Zebra Anthology

Chapters

Prologue
Mrs. Cake
Flitter & Cloud Chaser
Diamond Tiara & Silver Spoon
Twilight
Velvet
Thorax
Pharynx
Fluttershy
Dash
Stellar Flare
Sunburst
Gallus
Silverstream
Cadance
Shining
Moondancer
Pinkie
Cheese Sandwich
Applejack
Big Mac
Apple Bloom
Birch Bucket
Starlight Glimmer
Trixie
Fleur de Lis
Rarity
Scootaloo
Sweetie
Braeburn
Celestia
Sombra
Chrysalis
Luna
Grogar
Autumn Blaze
Vinyl
Octavia
Flim & Flam
Granny Smith
Flurry Heart
Babs Seed
Spoiled Rich
Ms. Harshwhinny
Hoity Toity
Filthy Rich
Blueblood

Prologue

The defeat of the Storm King, while a victory for the good of the world, heralded a time of hardship for many. Though the ponies of the land had only just begun to suffer from his cruelty, the nations he’d subjugated hadn’t been so lucky. Refugees flooded into Equestria from all sides, desperate for help from their saviors, but there was only so much that could be done. With resources spread thin, and only so many willing hooves to give aid, many were turned away and forced to return to their ruined homelands.

Of all the survivors of the Storm King’s cruelty, the zebras had suffered some of the worst treatment. Their lands had been rich with resources, ores and fertile fields, which the villain had shamelessly plundered. Robbed of their crops, with strip mines marring the once beauteous plains, their country and economy had been devastated beyond belief.

The striped equines had hoped their colorful kin would support and nurse them back to health, but they’d been mistaken. Though they couldn’t explain why, the earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns seemed to view them with animosity, shooing them away without compassion. The harsh indifference created a schism between the nations, leaving the zebras bitter and contemptuous of ones they once considered family.

The hardships they faced were omnipresent, from lack of food to their economy being devastated, leading to a depression like they’d ever known. Hardships were commonplace, catastrophically affecting every class, leading to only the strongest and most resourceful surviving. Sadly, over the course of several years, the majority of the female population succumbed or, for a lucky few, found homes in neighboring nations.

Years passed, new enemies were defeated, and Equestria prospered, while Zebrica licked their wounds and slowly recovered. Their population had been heavily depleted, pushed to the brink of collapse, yet they found the strength to endure and carry on. It wasn’t until after the terrible trio of Tirek, Queen Chrysalis, and Cozy Glow had been vanquished to their stony prison did the Zebras extend the olive branch to their pastel cousins.

Princess Celestia turned down their diplomatic invitation, as did Princess Luna and Princess Cadance, giving them only a single option to pursue. Sending a letter to Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship and soon to be ruler of Equestria, they received no reply - no, they got something far better than that. Nearly a month after reaching out to her, the youngest alicorn royal showed up at their border - no entourage, no guards, just a single mare with a smile on her face and hope in her heart. Sending their lead ambassador to greet her, with nearly a decade of scheming behind them, the battered nation of Zebrica would finally be able to enact their revenge on the ponies who’d forsaken them…

Mrs. Cake

Grinding her thighs together, keenly aware of the drenched panties clinging to her groin, Mrs. Cake glanced up at the clock. For all intents and purposes, it was just another Tuesday afternoon. The bakery was quiet, going through the regular lull between lunch and dinner, and everything was as it should be - well, almost everything.

Nearly six months ago, after Princess Twilight had welcomed several dozen Zebrican refugees into Ponyville, things had started to change - nothing different, mind you, just subtle differences that were almost imperceptible. The zebras themselves, aside from being tall and a bit imposing, had actually turned out to be exceptionally friendly and generous; they’d begun attending the School of Friendship, taken jobs about town, and a few had even started businesses of their own. Everything had gone smoothly for Mrs. Cake, that was until one fateful afternoon.

She’d been minding her shop like usual, when she heard the front door open. Much to her surprise, after making her way from the kitchen, she discovered a group of young, striped stallions perusing her confections. They’d seemed friendly enough, with each respectfully greeting her and introducing themselves, but one of the lads stuck out - one who had his eye on more than just her baked goods.

His name was Katako, and she found herself immediately fascinated with him - not just because of his exotic looks, but because he was remarkably attractive and debonair for his age. Standing a full head and shoulders taller than her husband, utterly dwarfing her meager height, he was an absolute mountain of a stallion. Though he was too old to attend the local school, having only just turned nineteen, he both looked and acted much older than he truly was.

Before she knew it, she’d stricken up a conversation with her youthful visitor which stretched on for hours. They talked about his homeland, his upbringing, and even a bit of his culture, yet their talk wasn’t the least bit one-sided. Nearly everything he’d been curious about was predictable, ranging from how she got into baking to her time in Ponyville, yet his final final question struck her completely off guard - are you single?

She’d laughed it off at first, presuming it was some sort of joke, but his confused expression had given her a moment for pause. There was no way a strapping young stud would be interested in an older, slightly overweight mare such as herself - was there? Shaking her head and answering him earnestly, his crestfallen expression left feeling slightly remorseful for him. Even if he wasn’t serious, which she doubted he was, the last thing she’d wanted was to upset him.

As the afternoon dragged on, with business steadily picking up, he pardoned himself, apologizing for being a nuisance, and made ready to leave. Maybe it was out of sympathy, or perhaps some latent want to see more of him, but she’d told him he could visit her at any time, going so far as to say she’d enjoyed their little chat. Seeing his smile that afternoon, as he promised he’d return, was but the smallest portent for what was to come.

Day after day, like clockwork, Katako showed up at four in the afternoon. Some days, he purchased something - other days, he simply bowed - but every day, they talked for what felt like hours. After a month, seeing as how he’d become a regular and shown an interest in baking, Mrs. Cake offered her regular guest an apprenticeship at her shop. Mr. Cake didn’t mind the extra help, since jugging a pair of foals and work was never easy, so it seemed to be the perfect solution for everyone.

Unfortunately for her, she had no idea what she was in for. The casual conversation gradually became more and more flirtatious, with Katako wistfully musing on how lucky Mr. Cake was and how he would treat her like his queen, but that was only the start. Accidentally bumping into one another became commonplace, with the young stud inadvertently touching her breasts or behind. As badly as she tried to dismiss it, telling herself that it was simply because he was so large, the casual contact never failed to send chills up her spine.

As much as she loved her husband, the intimacy in their relationship had dwindled over the past few years. She’d practically had to beg him to give her the twins, after they’d fostered Pinkie Pie, and he rarely took the initiative to be romantic with her. Her life wasn’t bad by any means, yet finding herself in the company of a strapping, handsome, and very provocative stallion had rekindled her marish instincts and filled her head with all manner of immoral fantasies.

She’d tried to stave off temptation - sweet, merciful Celestia, she’d tried, yet it was an uphill battle. Though she’d never admit it, having hidden the evidence from her husband, she’d even purchased a live-cast sex-toy modeled from a Zebrican porn star. She’d hoped the marital aid would scratch her itch, serving as a stand-in for any sort of infidelity, but it simply wasn’t the same as having an actual lover.

To make matters worse, she wouldn’t be surprised if Katako would bed her in a heartbeat. The way he waxed poetic about her, how he smiled every time he laid eyes on her, and his subtle peeking at her chest or behind left little room for doubt - he was genuinely attracted to her. As silly as it may have sounded, she’d unwittingly employed a young, adonic stud who found her appealing. Lost to her thoughts, lingering behind the counter, the sound of the door snapped her from her stupor.

“Mrs. Cake,” Katako began, stooping slightly to enter, “I see you’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

She smiled and dismissively waved a hand, despite the blush creeping into her cheeks. Though the afternoon wasn’t much different from any other, with the bakery functioning as normal, it was far from ordinary. Mr. Cake had brought their little ones to visit the Pie family farm, invited by Pinkie, which gave her a rare opportunity. With her libido having reached a fevered pitch, spurred by the stud’s unwavering attention, she’d decided to see how far he was really willing to go.

“Could you be a dear and flip the sign to closed and lock the door? I’ve got a large order that I’m going to need your help with,” she instructed, sauntering into the back before he could reply.

There was no guarantee that her little scheme would even work, uncertain if the stallion’s talk was false bravado, but she was determined to find out. With the bakery to themselves, and her family out of town, there was no way in Tartarus anyone would ever know what she was up to, even if it didn’t amount to anything. Rushing to one of the steel-top tables, before her apprentice could enter, she bent forward and began rummaging around for nothing in particular.

From what she’d gathered, Katako had a particular fondness for her rather rotund posterior. She’d always been on the short, somewhat bottom-heavy side, a fact that had never sat well with her, yet she intended to use her curvaceous physique against the exotic stud. Contentedly humming to herself, swaying her broad hips from side to side, she angled her rear at the doorway and waited.

“So what are we…” Katako trailed off, moments after walking into the kitchen.

“What are we what, Hun?” she asked, glancing back at him.

She dared not look back at him, lest he noticed her flushed expression, so she persisted in her meaningless endeavor. Listening to his approaching footfalls, wondering what he must be thinking, the sensation of something against her backside made her heart skip a beat. It would have been impossible for him to inadvertently brush against her, considering there was plenty of room to maneuver in the area, but she had to be sure.

Shuffling back slightly, directly at whatever had touched her, the unmistakable feeling of a hand on her tush set her marehood tingling. There was no question about it, he’d simply walked up and casually groped her ass, a fact that simultaneously thrilled and terrified her. Taking a breath to calm her frazzled nerves, eager to see just what she would find, she turned her head and peered back at him.

Even in her prime, she hadn’t been much for dirty talk or being forward with anyone, which left her to improvise. Looking up at him, seeing his eyes wander from her derriere to her face, she grinned. “Are you going to stand there all evening or are you going to help me?”

“Are Mr. Cake or the foals home this afternoon?” he inquired, brazenly sinking his fingers into one supple cheek of her ass.

“I - um - well, no,” she sheepishly replied.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, he moved his hand down her leg and stroked her inner thigh. “And just what sort of large order would you need my assistance with?”

“W...well, I...I was - Mmmmn,” whatever flimsy excuse she’d been about to utter fell short, as his thick, strong fingers glided to her groin.

Simply feeling his digits against her, separated only by the thin cotton of her panties, was quite possibly the most thrilling thing she’d experienced in over a decade. Subconsciously rocking back, rubbing herself against him, she knew he had to notice how wet she was, but she couldn’t care less. As he hooked one finger under her panties, grazing her bare flesh, her marehood winked.

“Is this an affair that your husband can’t fulfill?” he pressed, nonchalantly teasing her entrance. Before she could reply, pulling her undergarment to the side, his grin broadened. “It would pay for you to be honest, since you’re the one who asked me for help.”

The mention of an affair, while unsettling, did nothing to quell the growing flames of her lust. “N...no, I need your help with it.”

“I see,” he hummed. Freeing his hand and withdrawing his arm, he stepped over and ground his crotch against her backside. “And what exactly would this affair entail?”

Shivering slightly, as the growing tent in his pants bumped against her, her thoughts raced. Everything had been going smoothly, much better than she’d anticipated, yet she’d failed to comprehend just what she would do if things did work. Acting on instinct, she straightened up and turned to face him. Though she desperately wished for things to proceed, the vestiges of her reservations wouldn’t allow her to say what she yearned for - that said, she might not need to ask.

Without saying a word, she gently grabbed his wrists, lifted his arms, and placed his hands atop her bosoms. She was wearing what she normally wore at work, a simple blouse and apron, but her implications of the act spoke volumes. If having her give him a feel her chest wasn’t a clear answer of what she wanted, she didn’t know what would be.

“Such a gorgeous mare,” he sighed, slipping his hands under her apron. Brushing against her erect nipples, undoubtedly noticing her lack of a bra, he flashed his teeth at her. “Perhaps if you show me what you want, I may be inspired to give you what you need.”

“H...here?” she stammered, taken aback by the request.

He dipped his head once, locking eyes with her. “Here, yes.”

Not once had she stripped for anyone, not in any sort of erotic sense, which left her woefully unprepared for the moment - still, the excitement of being asked to disrobe by such a young buck was wildly compelling. She realized that she could turn back, could put things to a halt right then and there, yet her unrestrained arousal demanded otherwise. Shakily reaching behind herself, undoing the back of her apron, she stepped back and lifted the article up and over her head.

Having set the article to the side, she timidly began unbuttoning her top. Inch after inch of her turquoise flesh was revealed, unveiling her profound cleavage, as the fabric fell away from her chest. While there wasn’t much she liked about her body, being both old and somewhat overweight, she took pride in her rack. She’d had a generous bust for as long as she could remember, having developed at a relatively young age, and it wasn’t uncommon that she caught stallions ogling her.

Unfastening the last button, leaving the fabric draped over her torso, she meekly peeked up at him. She’d given him a tease, just the barest glimpse of her naked body, but that was just the start. As her fingers closed around the cloth, slowly pulling it open, she uncovered her bare chest. Lowering her gaze, embarrassed beyond belief, her eyes widened when they settled on his groin.

She’d realized he was likely well-hung, judging from his stature, but the imprint in his slacks was awe inspiring. Snaking down one leg, nearly reaching his knee, was an utterly titanic bulge. The swell in his pants was so massive that some part of her doubted her own eyes. If what she was seeing was his stallionhood, he was nearly triple the length and girth of her husband’s endowment.

“Tell you what,” Katako hummed, smoothly removing his snug t-shirt, “since you seem keen on getting a better look, we’ll play a little game. For every inch of flesh you show me, I’ll return the favor.”

“You want to see me - Oh!” she squeaked, as he reached out and fondled her breasts.

“Mrs. Cake, I want to see everything you have to offer,” he continued. Slowly leaning forward, maintaining eye contact, he hefted one tit and wrapped his lips around her nipple.

Stifling a gasp, watching him start to nurse from her, she could practically feel her vacant womb calling to him. Motherhood had been immeasurably rewarding, something that she’d grown extremely fond of, and it felt as though it had ended all too soon. Unlike a great many mares, who lamented the aches and headaches of carrying a foal, she’d loved every second of it - from the comfort of growing life within herself to the way her chest had nearly doubled in size. As she peeked down at him, while her free breast began to spontaneously leak, her hands drifted towards her panties.

Her hesitation to breach her sacred vows waned, wiggling in place and drawing the undergarment down her thighs. Husband or no husband, there wasn’t a mare around that could hold themselves back from such a seductive, virile stud like Katako. Not only was the zebra easy on the eyes, but almost everything about him was attractive. With her inhibitions pushed to the breaking point, fracturing under the immense weight of her marish needs, he pulled away and licked his lips.

“As expected, very refreshing,” he snickered, taking a small step back.

Peeking down at his crotch, wanting - no, needing to see just what he was packing, she rested her hands on the table behind her, hopped back, and seated herself. Her panties were mid-way to her knees, making the maneuver a bit awkward, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest. As she lifted one leg, pulling the limb up and out of the undergarment, she kicked the article away and hesitated.

It was one thing for him to see her rack, but letting him look at her sex was something else entirely. Having had a pair of foals, it wasn’t as taut as she used to be - that and she had a small, albeit relatively well-kept bush of fuschia pubes on her groin. Shuffling back, gathering her courage, she turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and spread her legs for him.

A part of her wanted to see his reaction, but she couldn’t bring herself to look. Braced on the cool tabletop, with her hands at her sides, she quietly waited for him to say something. Each second that passed stretched on and on, growing increasingly anxious with every beat of her thundering heart. Just as it became too much to bear, the most wondrous thing happened. Though he didn’t make a single sound, he gave her more than she could have asked for.

Unlike when he’d started suckling on her bosom, the sensation of his pouting lips and hot breath upon her sex caused her to squeak in surprise. Peering down at him, past her mountainous chest, she watched him set upon her like a starved beast. As his tongue glided over her sensitive flesh, tasting her intimate juices, her eyelids fluttered.

Though she absolutely loved being eaten out, Mr. Cake rarely indulged her - even then, it was only because she would incessantly badger him for the oral affection. It would have been bad enough if neither of them enjoyed going down on one another, but that wasn’t the case. She knew he liked her blowjobs, having even videoed them on several occasions, yet he hardly ever returned the favor.

Humming into her, lifting his arms and grabbing her waist, Katako plunged his tongue into her depths. To say his skill was amazing would be an understatement. Clamping her thighs around to either side of his face, she rolled her head back and groaned. Exactly how he’d become so skillful at pleasuring a mare was beyond her, especially because of his relatively young age, but she wasn’t about to stop him to ask him.

Alternating between the licking, tongue-fucking, and the way he gently lipping her clit, she roared towards release in a record time. As she laid back, caving to her yearning for more, her hands sailed to her breasts. As shameful as it may have been, getting off to such a scandalous encounter, she needily twisted and pulled at her engorged, sensitive teats.

The breath hitched in her throat, her heart thundered in her chest, and her thighs trembled uncontrollably, as she crept closer and closer to release. Just as she was about to cum, with her bliss reaching a plateau, the unthinkable happened; the striped stud stopped and pulled away. The immediate and unexpected halt of pleasure was almost maddening, spurring her to shoot him a wounded, needy look.

“W...why’d you s...stop?” she panted, seeing him stand.

“Because,” he sighed, “when you cum, and you will, it will be with your silken depths embracing this.”

Moving back a hair, giving himself a bit of room, he lifted then rested his rigid stallionhood on her groin. The heat and weight alone were staggering, almost unbelievable, but peering at his length - heaven help her, it was like looking at an obsidian log. Nearly as long as her forearm, and just as big around, his cock was awe inspiring. Unable to tear her eyes off his godly tool, simultaneously thrilled and uneasy at the thought of him fucking her, she knew he was going to ruin her.

“Spread yourself for me,” he purred, slapping his dick against her groin.

Without a shred of hesitation, she shuffled back, reached between her legs, and unabashedly spread her meaty lower lips. Her modesty crumbled away to nothing, as he took a small step back and brought the massive tip of his length to her entrance. As the head of his cock kissed her marehood, he grinned down at her.

“Would you like me to be gentle or hard? I’ll please you however you see fit, considering the kindness you’ve shown to me,” he humbly intoned, lovingly rubbing her hips.

“H...hard,” she blurted. “I want you to make me feel like a young mare.”

He dipped his head and grasped her knees, pushing her legs back. “As you wish…”

Driving his hips forward, he hilted himself in a single, herculean thrust. The move was so sudden and intense that she climaxed instantaneously. Her silken canal quaked around him, tightly gripping every divine inch of his length, as her deep, whorish groan filled the air. She’d realized he was bigger than any stallion she’d ever seen, but the sensation of him filling her, stretching her confines like none ever had, was extraordinary.

Caught unawares, he effortlessly pushed her legs back, loomed over her, and started fucking her in ernest. Awash in ecstacy, quite literally pinned to the table, she struggled to comprehend the unbelievable turn of events. One moment, he’d been taunting her with his stallionhood - the next, in little more than the blink of an eye, he’d made her cum harder than she thought possible. Jostling beneath him, whimpering with every unstoppable plunge of his hips, she pawed at her bosoms.

Katako lifted his head while mercilessly rutting her, possibly noticing her attempting to move, and peaked a brow. “Please, allow me to indulge you.”

As he leaned in, gently biting her right teat, she lustfully brayed. Despite having just climaxed, as inexplicable as it seemed, it almost felt as though she was on the cusp of yet another orgasm. Desperate for more, yet wholly immobilized, she hungrily clenched her battered snatch around his jackhammering shaft. There were a million and one things she would have done to him - for him, had she been able to move, but those options had been stripped from her.

“God yes,” she blared, sensing her sanity slipping away.

Rearing back, bringing his muzzle to an inch from her face, he sneered. “Mr. Cake does not deserve such a beautiful creature like yourself, which is why I will make you mine.”

“I - Aaaaaahn!” Whatever reply she’d been about to utter died, as she was stricken with another wave of unfathomable ecstasy.

Uncontrollably squirting upon his pounding waist and thighs, making a mess of the tiled floor beneath them, she nearly convulsed in rapture. Even if she’d been able to speak, she couldn’t have brought herself to disagree with him. Within the span of mere minutes, he’d rocked the very foundations of her once happy marriage and made her question everything she’d ever known about sexual delights. Mewling incoherently, with strands of saliva creeping down her face, wished for nothing more than for him to continue.

Plowing her like it was the last lay of his life, determined to reshape her interior, he wolfish grin split his features. “Tonight - Nnnph - you will fuck your husband…”

Barely comprehending what he’d said, she nodded. It didn’t matter what he was asking her to do, so long as he didn’t stop screwing her senseless. Tweaking her nipples, coating her fingers in the rich cream streaming from her udder-like breasts, her eyes rolled wildly. She’d had sex more times than she could count, and even bedded a few stallions before she’d ever met her loving husband, yet the absolute size of the zebra railing her made her feel like a virgin again.

“Promise me you will take his seed this evening,” Katako grunted.

“I...I promise,” she wailed. Though she didn’t understand why he’d ordered her to sleep with her betrothed, he answered her unasked question.

“I am going to impregnate you with my foal and make you my mare,” he growled, somehow redoubling his efforts. “Once you bear me a child, you will profess your love for me and forsake that pitiful pony who you swore yourself to.”

In a dreamlike state, overwhelmed by mind-breaking rapture, she peeked up at him. “I will! I’ll do anything for you!”

“Good,” he snarled.

Time lost all meaning, as his unbelievable endurance undid her. She couldn’t count how many times she’d cum, with one climax feeding into the next, before he finally reached his breaking point. Nearly destroying her in every conceivable way, coated in sweat from the exertion of it all, he sheathed the entirety of his stallionhood within her and emptied his balls. The sensation of his scalding foal batter, surging through her cervix and into her ravenous womb.

Her euphoric scream tapered off, replaced by a silent wail of ecstasy. Her limbs went slack, her vision blurred, and the only thing her rapture-stricken mind could dwell on was her young lover. He was a god, the embodiment of carnality, and her life until meeting him had been an utter waste. With his stallionhood still throbbing, disgorging his prolific load into her depths, he hauled his length free and painted her entire upper half.

As he released her legs, he stroked himself off and smirked. “Now lick it clean…”

Obediently doing as he’d asked, Mrs. Cake awkwardly slid from the table, got to her knees before him, and started making out with his dick. She’d gleefully lie to her husband, bedding him and claiming the foal she would almost assuredly bear was his, if it meant getting more quality time with the stud - her stud. Locking her lips around the head of his cock, quite literally sucking the thick, rich jizz from him, she swooned. A beautiful striped foal would be the perfect way to start her new family…

Flitter & Cloud Chaser

“Ok ~ how do I look?” Cloud Chaser asked, stepping back and slowly turning in place.

Flitter looked her friend up and down, marveling at the black stripes contrasted against the mare’s periwinkle coat. “You look great - well, I think you look great. Do you think I need any more myself?”

Inspecting her companion from head to toe, smiling at the myriad of dark bands over the mare’s body, Chaser shook her head. “Nah, I don’t think so - unless you wanted some markings on your nipples.”

“That’s a great idea!” Flitter chirped. Pulling up her top and revealing her perky bosoms, she presented her chest. “Maybe a spiral or a little star on one of ‘em?”

Chaser squatted down, grabbed the brush from the crock of paint, and straightened back up. “How about you have a star and I’ll have a swirl ~ does that sound good?”

“Sounds perfect to me!” Flitter giggled, peering down as her friend drew on her right breast.

Tittering like a school filly, Chaster quickly finished the task, stepped back to appraise the design, then hauled her top upward and freed her left tit. “Alright, do mine next.”

The pair’s quiet laughter eerily echoed throughout the tiled chamber as their excitement mounted. At a glance, they could be mistaken for sisters, their ages, colors, and personalities being remarkably similar to one another, although they weren’t related - not technically at least. They’d been neighbors and the best of friends since they were foals, having gone so far as to live together and both work as cheerleaders for the Canterlot Crushers, the capital’s buckball team, so calling them family wasn’t that much of a stretch.

“Alright,” Flitter murmured, placing the brush back in the little urn of paint. “I think we’re as ready as we’re going to -”

Thunk

The duo looked over as the door to the locker room was thrown open, startled by the sudden noise. An absolutely titanic silhouette lingered just outside, its shoulders heaving, moments before it stepped inside and beneath one of the lights. Glistening in sweat and brimming with muscle, the hulking zebra looked down at the pair of pegasi and snorted.

“S…surprise…” Flitter croaked. Glancing over at her friend, she elbowed Chaser in the side.

Unable to tear her eyes off the tremendous swell in the giant’s shorts, feeling her mouth starting to water, Chaser gulped. “Surprise…”

They stood in mute silence, waiting for the mountain of a stallion to make a move. Things were either going to go very well or very poorly for them, so it was all they could do to hold their breath and keep their fingers crossed. It would have been bad enough to sneak into the Zebrican buckball team’s practice grounds, but that was the most minor transgression they’d enacted that afternoon.

To call their scheme harebrained would be an egregious understatement. They’d bought the sluttiest outfits they could find, crept into the locker room of their team’s arch rivals, and they’d painted themselves up like a pair of aspiring porn stars for the latest volume of Striped magazine, all for the chance of getting fucked by the hottest zebra stud either of them had laid eyes upon.

The behemoth’s name was Nyota and he was the biggest, most striking athlete in Equestria - possibly the entire world. Leader of the Zebrican buckball team, he utterly dominated the field and was solely responsible for the trouncing the Canterlot Crusher’s had received the week prior. Given all the whisperings they’d heard about zebra stallions, how the brutes were absolutely godly in bed, they’d hatched a plot to seduce the mountainous stud into giving them both a bit of action.

The giant turned, stepped back to the door, and turned the lock, then cast his eyes back at them. “Either you’re really thirsty, really stupid, or both…”

“A little of column A and a little of column B,” Flitter nervously laughed, removing her top.

Following her friend’s example, Chaser wriggled out of the stifling garment. “I mean, in our defense, can you blame us? After seeing you in action, we had to get in on the fun.”

Turning and plodding over to a bench, Nyota eased himself down and spread his legs. “If that’s the case, put your bits where your mouths are,” he chuckled, patting the bulge in his shorts.

Adorned in a tank top and trunks, looking like he’d just stepped out of a shower, the colossal stud smirked over at the pair of mares. He was just as - no, more intimidating and awe inspiring up close than he had been during the match they’d watched last week, but his harsh words and imposing physique weren’t enough to deter them. Sharing a glance, the mares nodded and approached him.

Flitter moved to his right, while Chaser went to his left, until they were upon him. They’d done this dance before, albeit with a pony stallion, and they’d strategized long before he’d walked in on them. Only pausing to slip out of their painfully short skirts, leaving them clad only in the zebra-print thongs they’d purchased just for this occasion, they attacked in near-perfect harmony.

Sinking to her knees before the seated giant, Flitter reached out with a trembling hand and caressed the growing imprint of his stallionhood. She’d had no doubt that he was well-hung, but even her wildest dreams hadn’t done him justice. Bringing her fingers up to the waistband of his shorts, she pulled the article down to reveal the ebony base of his length.

“H…holy cow,” she sputtered, taken aback by the sheer enormity of the base of his shaft.

He laughed above her and reached out to grab Chaser’s ass. “If you think that’s impressive, wait until it’s hard…”

She’d been thrilled by the thought of what he could do with her - to her, so the peek at his package was more than enough to inspire her to continue. She worked in a flash, untying the drawstring of his trunks and unbuttoning them as quickly as she could, as she hastily tried to free his tool. Reaching into his shorts, unable to fully wrap her fingers around his dick, she pulled his stallionhood into the open air.

Only snagging on his trunks for a split second, his cock sprang free and flopped between his length. Holy heck - he was even more huge than she’d imagined! Nearly as long as her arm and as big around as her bicep, the obscene appendage steamed in the cool air. Slick with sweat, glinting in the dim light, his lightly pulsing, gradually growing endowment sang a siren’s song to her.

She leaned in and breathed deeply of the heavenly musk wafting from his loins, shivering as her panties grew damp. Nyota wasn’t simply a buckball captain or a stud - he was a god who demanded worship. Drawing her tongue up the side of his shaft, giving in to her bestial urges, she softly groaned and reached for her nethers.

Chaser was in no better state than her friend, yielding to the titan as soon as she’d knelt on the bench beside him. Kissing her way up his abs and to his broad chest, she playfully bit his nipple he clutched and fondled her ass. As happy as she would have been to venerate him and lick every drop of sweat from his adonic body, he had other plans.

His free hand shot to her chin and lifted her face. The sensation of his vice-like grip on her jaw startled her for a moment, unsure of where his intentions lie, but then he struck. Dipping his head toward her, he plunged his thick, powerful tongue into her muzzle. She swore to Celestia - the impromptu kiss was almost enough to make her cum right there on the spot.

She closed her eyes and gave herself to him, feeling his digits wander around her waist. She’d heard that Zebrican stallions took what they wanted, taking what they wanted from mares or lesser males alike, and he did not disappoint her expectations. Lifting one knee and resting it on his thigh, she gave him access to the plump, barely covered marehood.

“Mmmmmm,” he hummed, pulling back and listing to the side to peer at her flank. “Are you normally this wet around stallions, or is this just for me?”

Shivering as he rubbed her snatch, she gave a shuddering sigh. “J…just for you.”

“You what,” he growled. “If you’re gonna come here and paint yourselves for me, you better show some respect ~ got it?”

She quickly nodded and looked him in the eyes. “Y…yes, Sir.”

“Better,” he grunted, pulling her panties to the side and jamming a digit into her. “Now moan for me, Bitch…”

She did as he asked before he’d finished speaking, pressing her tits against him while lifting her hips. His finger was almost as big as some of the dicks she’d had in the past, and he knew exactly how to use it. Winking uncontrollably, wetting his palm with her growing arousal, she ran her hands around the back of his neck.

His body was hot, fresh from the field she’d spotted him at earlier, and he smelled even better than he looked. Every other stallion she’d ever seen, let alone been with, was inferior in comparison to his commanding presence. Her soft whimpers raised an octave and she stiffened, as he drove a second finger into her sopping wet depths.

Repositioning herself, Flitter hotly made out with Nyota’s cock-head while she gazed up in wonder at the giant. She would have given anything to suck him off, to swab her throat with his glorious stallionhood, but such a task would have been impossible. Her jaw could only open so wide, in spite of what her enthusiasm would have her believe - fortunately, she wasn’t completely out of options. Lifting her arms and stroking him off with both hands, abandoning her pussy to angrily ache from neglect, she stroked him off.

Milking his dick as best she could, keenly aware that he was shifting his focus between her and her friend, she recoiled when a gout of something thick and scalding erupted into her snout. For an instant, she thought he’d had a climax, but then the truth dawned on her. Eagerly gulping down the mouthful of cum, she brought one hand to his hefty balls.

Each of the stud’s nuts was roughly the size of a grapefruit, capable of producing enough seed to knock up a mare several times over, and she was determined not to leave until Chaser and herself had made sure they were completely drained. As she palmed one weighty cum-tank, her imagination took flight. She’d watched and gotten off to more zebra porn that she dared to admit, but there was one genre that she adored more than the rest - breeding.

She and Chaser routinely discussed what it would be like to become broodmares for a big, burly Zebrican, and such discussions often resulted in a furious masturbatory session, which was one reason they’d sought out Nyota. They both knew that there was no guarantee that the gigantic athlete would fulfill their desires, but things were definitely headed in the right direction to make their dreams a reality. Almost reluctantly shuffling back, leaving glimmering ropes of saliva and pre-cum strung between her lips and the stud’s cock, she stared up at the colossus.

“S…sir,” she anxiously began, drawing his baleful gaze, “may we both serve you?”

His lip curled as he peered down at her. “Did I ask for you to stop?”

Feeling her hair stand on end, she felt a lump form in her throat. “N…no, but someone so incredible deserves to have two mares serving him. Double the pleasure -”

“Double the fun,” Chaser cooed into his ear.

His ire withered, if only just, and he withdrew his hand from between her thighs. “Go on and join your friend down there. I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve had two bitches slobbering on my junk.”

Receiving a soft slap to her ass, Chaser snickered and eased herself off of him. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d shared a stallion with her best friend, but now she needed the extra help. Had Flitter or herself would have been screwed in more than just a literal sense if they’d tried to handle Nyota solo, but that’s exactly why they worked as a team. Coming to rest on the opposite side of the monolithic stallionhood as her companion, she made herself comfortable.

The mares winked over at one another, turned to face Nyota’s cock, and put themselves to work. Tending to a stallion was’t just making him feel good, it was about putting on a show. Fondling themselves and each other, while their tongues mopped the underside of his shaft, they only briefly paused to lavish him with praise.

“It’s just so big…”

“I can’t wait for it to ruin me…”

“Thank you for letting us serve you, Sir…”

“I wonder which of us he’ll fuck first…”

The sinful comments, paired with their pouting lips, skillful tongues, and graceful fingers seemed to do the trick, elevating his arousal to the breaking point. No more than a handful of minutes passed before he snorted and brought them to a screeching halt. Looking up at him wide-eyed, they remained kneeling as he got to his feet and nonchalantly stepped over them.

“Where’s that paint of yours?” he groused.

Scrambling to stand, Flitter rushed over to a nearby locker and retrieved the little crock. “It’s right here, Sir!”

Snatching the urn from her, he pinched the brush between a finger and thumb. “You two been claimed yet?”

Chaser got up and scampered over to her friend’s side. “No, Sir.”

“Gonna fix that,” he rumbled. “Ditch the panties.”

Neither mare hesitated in the slightest, practically ripping their thongs off with gusto. With their hips touching, they held still as he stepped toward them and squatted down. Moving with a speed and precision that defied his gargantuan size, he traced a sigil on their lower abdomens. The mark which he adorned them with vaguely resembled a heart with odd traceries around its interior, and the act of being anointed made them giggle excitedly.

Looking at them both, apparently pleased with his work, he stood and tossed the paint into a nearby trash can. “That means you’re mine,” he huffed. “If you’re decent lays, I’ll get some of the permanent stuff from a shaman - even if I don’t, you ain’t leaving here without a bastard pumped into you.”

“You honor us,” Flitter whispered, giving a small bow.

Following her friend’s example, Chaser did the same. “We are yours, Sir.”

Nyota looked past them and nodded to the bend. “Which one of you wants it first?”

Having hoped he’d eventually ask them that magical question, the duo leapt into action. Regardless of how big he was, he was only capable of using one of them at a time, but that was hardly a problem. Flitter rushed over to the bench, seated herself, and reclined with her tush hanging off one end, while Chaser followed along after her.

“It’s silly that you asked, Sir,” she purred, splaying her legs.

Straddling her friend, Chaser looked back at the behemoth. “You get to choose who you want to rut first, Sir.”

With their breasts smashed together and thighs parted, they gave him an unfettered view of their drenched loins. Any stallion who was even remotely straight would start drooling at the sight of two young, naked mares laying face to face with one another, and Nyota was no different. Grinning broadly, he lumbered over, lowered his hips, clutched the base of his shaft.

“Who to choose,” he mused, running the fat tip of his length up and down between their cunts.

“Sir, pick me,” Chaser mewled, raising her waist slightly.

Kicking her legs up, feeling juices trail down into the cleft of her ass, Flitter peered past her friend’s head. “No, Sir, pick me!”

“Guess I’ll just…” he trailed off.

Chaster tensed from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, when her entrance was forced open. She’d screwed herself on some pretty sizable sex-toys before, and even been fisted by Flitter on a couple occasions, yet nothing came close to the raw intensity of being impaled by something so enormous. She was filled in an instant, her womb essentially crushed by the stud’s prodigious endowment, and he gave her no time to acclimate to the intrusion.

Rolling his hips back and keeping one hand on her lower back, he started fucking her. Each thrust was slow and deliberate, his dick nearly pulling free from her before it was slammed back inside, and it was all she could do to howl out like an animal. The sensations which accosted her were unbelievable, on an entirely different level to any other sexual experience she’d ever had, overwhelming her in the blink of an eye.

Seemingly from nowhere, she was stricken by the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. Her rapturous squeal of delight reverberated throughout the chamber, while climactic nectar gushed from around his pistoning length. She’d never cum so fast or hard before, always steadily building up to a peak of ecstasy, yet he’d caused her to climax without the slightest bit of effort.

“Fuckin’ - Nnnf - tight bitch,” he snarled, pounding into her.

Had it not been for Flitter’s arms around her back, holding her in place, she may have been pulled off the bench by his backstrokes. She could feel her lower lips being drawn out every time he withdrew, her sex clinging to him with a death grip, before being stuffed back into her. She’d come to the locker room thinking - hoping he would ruin her forever, making sure she’d never take any satisfaction from sleeping with a pony stallion again, and she was getting just what she wished for.

Flitter scrunched her snout, jealous that she hadn’t been chosen to get railed first. The look on Chaser’s face was like something out of a porno, but she knew this wasn’t cheesy acting. Her friend’s eyes were rolled back, saliva dangled from the mare’s chin, and the only noises she could make were guttural moans or blissful wails. Pinned to the bench, the sensation of something prodding her belly tore her from her envy.

Twisting her head to peer down at herself, she came to a startling realization. Given the circumstances, trapped beneath her friend, she was feeling the Zebrican stud’s cock through Chaser. There were stories about intrepid, oftentimes masochistic stallions or mares who could accommodate something so immense that you could see their abdomen bulge from the intrusion, but that was only supposed to be from anal! Totally speechless, she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d weather the astonishing experience herself.

A second deluge of Chaser’s juices shook her from her stupor and reminded her that she wasn’t helpless - not completely anyways. Fidgeting in place, she wormed her hands between their chests and blindly felt for their nipples. She may not be the one getting fucked into a coma, but she could sure as heck contribute something to the situation. If she wasn’t going to be the one cumming her brains out, she’d do her darnedest to make her friend black out from ecstasy.

Screaming out, practically seizing atop her friend, Chaser’s jaw hung open. Unable to cope with the mind-blowing pleasure coursing through her, her sanity had been tried and found wanting. Her every nerve was alight, she couldn’t move, and she was absolutely certain that she’d be walking funny when she left the locker room - that was if she’d be able to walk at all.

Coming down from her fourth or maybe fifth climax - honestly, she had lost count, she rested her chin on Flitter’s shoulder and grunted with each of the titan’s thrusts. The moment she made herself even remotely comfortable, her head was wrenched back. Holding her by her mane with one hand, while savagely pulling on the dock of her tail with the other, she brayed like a beast possessed.

At some point or another, while her sanity was slowly stripped away, something clicked within her brain. All the striped porn she’d seen had made an impression on her, but now she fully understood why. The mares who she’d seen getting rutted by zebra studs hadn’t been acting at all - no, they’d actually been getting owned. As she accepted her fate, her foal-factory prepared itself to receive his inevitable gift.

Her mind reeled as his flaring cock beat against her cervix. She wanted it, she needed it, and she was going to become the mother of his child. Suddenly filled with preternatural strength, she pushed back against him and constricted her marehood around him. Though the chance was slim that he’d pull out before delivering the mother of all creampies, she was going to do everything in her power to ensure she didn’t spill a drop of his precious seed.

Draping himself on her and biting her neck, driving his length into her womb, he came. The sensation of being filled with what had to be at least a pint of jizz was the most phenomenal thing she’d ever experienced, yet it was overshadowed by the implication of what it meant. Though she’d fantasized about becoming a mother on many occasions, she could never have guessed she’d end up getting bred while laying on her best friend.

Feeling a cocktail of marish juices and cum seeping over her snatch, Flitter bit her lip. She’d thought Nyota would need some time to recover, a few minutes where she could suck him clean and prepare him for a second round - she’d thought wrong. He didn’t seem tired - heck, he didn’t even seem winded, as rose above her. With Chaser shivering against her, the giant repositioned himself.

“Your turn,” he thundered, plunging into her without any warning whatsoever.

She came purely from being penetrated, effectively having been edged while Chaser had been getting rutted. The orgasm was metamorphic, instantaneously forcing her to understand what her dearest friend had gone through. Her legs shot out, she locked her ankles over his hips, and she drew her deeper.

Who she was, the very fiber of her being, buckled under the crushing weight of unremitting bliss, but she wasn’t scared - on the contrary, she was elated. Climaxing over and over and over again, incoherently babbling her thanks to the stallion using her, she welcomed her role in the grand scheme of things. Even if Nyota didn’t keep them, she was certain that Chaser and herself would be exclusively serving Zebricans for the rest of their days.

She had no way of knowing how long he lasted, fainting multiple times only to be awoken by her own shrill yowls of ecstasy, yet things ultimately came to a head. The stud’s stallionhood throbbed in tune with his thundering heart, stretching her all the wider, while the head of his cock slipped past her inner gates. The absolute flood of his seed was cathartic, washing away her old life and ushering in a new chapter of her existence, and she wept tears of joy because of it.

Unlike with Chaser, he stayed hilted for several minutes at least, causing her gut to distend from the tremendous volume of cum he’d filled her with. Only eventually did he step back and unsheathe his softening length, but he was far from finished with her. Stooping down and slapping her battered cunt, causing it to clench and trap most of his seed from leaking from her depths, he laughed.

“Where’s your stuff?” he asked, leaning over to look at her face.

Wearily nodding, she pointed to a locker behind him. She and Chaser had come into the room wearing their street clothes and changed after arriving, not wanting to draw any undue attention to themselves, so what few belongings they’d brought were stashed away. Addled though she was, she watched as he turned and began rummaging through her things.

Chuckling to himself, he turned and leveled a phone - her phone at her. “Flip your friend over and smile pretty for me. I want to send the Canterlot Crushers a nice pic of my new cheerleaders…”

“Chaser, g…get up,” she weakly insisted, shaking her companion.

Chaser groggily opened her eyes and looked down on her. “Wha…”

Nodding in Nyota’s direction, Flitter pushed on her friend. “Just get up and follow my lead.”

Once Chaser had wriggled free and nearly fallen to the floor, sat up and offered a hand to her friend. They were both exhausted, covered in a mixture of sweat, spunk, and marish juices, and sore, but that didn’t stop them from leaning their backs against the row of lockers behind them, spreading their legs, and reaching down to show off their battered, cum-filled marehoods. Nyota squatted down to get a low angle shot, snapped a few pics, then presented them with the phone.

“Send it,” he instructed.

After pressing a slickened digit to the all contacts button, Flitter sent the picture. Her team, her friends, and a good many of her family would soon be treated to an image of her and Chaser striped and thoroughly bred, but that wasn’t important in the slightest. She dreamily beamed up at the stud as he stepped closer and presented his semi-flaccid cock.

“Clean it off for me,” he muttered.

Like a pair of twins moving in sync, Chaser and Flitter drifted closer to him and kissed his dangling length. “Yes, Sir…”

Diamond Tiara & Silver Spoon

“We totally got this,” Diamond Tiara mused as she popped a sucker into her mouth and leaned against the street lamp.

Silver Spoon smirked and nodded over at her. “Totally…”

Shifting slightly, Diamond peeked to the dilapidated shop they were lingering in front of. Seeing two mares idling about in a seedy part of Fillydelphia wasn’t all that uncommon, given that the area had gained a reputation for questionable activities - nevertheless, they she and her friend stood out like a pair of sore, slatternly thumbs. Checking herself out in the storefront window, one of the few that wasn’t shattered, she turned to face her reflection.

Adorned in fishnets, stiletto heels, a miniskirt that failed to fully cover her tush, and a tube top, all of which being a brilliant turquoise. There was only one reason anypony would dress in such a promiscuous way, but that was by design. After Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie had all gained fortune and infamy from the adult entertainment industry, she had to act.

She couldn’t say what was worse, the fact that her supposed friends had become incredibly wealthy and well known for their amorous exploits or that it had taken her so long to make a name for herself - in the end, it didn’t matter too much, but it still rubbed her the wrong way. If her stupid parents hadn’t forced her to graduate, threatening to write her out of their wills if she didn’t, she would have enacted her scheme long before now - hence her seemingly spontaneous trip to Fillydelphia with her bestie. As she spun on one heel and sucked on the lollipop in her snout, her eyes drifted over to the impending partner in crime.

Silver was dressed similarly to herself, wearing high-heels, fuzzy arm and leg warmers, boy shorts, and a crop-top, every part of her ensemble was a neon-pink that clashed wondrously with her grey coat. It was a bit chilly for what they were wearing, but they wouldn’t be outdoors for long - at least they hoped they wouldn’t be. Peering down the sidewalk and spotting somepony lumbering in their direction, she softly grunted and caught her friend’s ear.

Whoring one’s self out wasn’t glorious, but it was a means to an end - in fact, it would kill several birds with one stone. She and Silver would get paid for their services, get to have a little fun, and they wouldn’t have to worry about jumping through the hoops of dating or feigning romance, although the best part was they would be laying the foundations for an empire. After they recorded and released a few videos of themselves getting plowed by a few big, ideally hunky striped studs, they’d start their own porno studio and show those insufferable cutie mark crusaders how it was really done.

She bit back a sneer as the figure came nearer. The stallion was a zebra, tall as hell and with a shaggy mop of dreadlocks falling over his face, but he was far from an adonis. Overweight and old enough to be her dad, if she had to hazard a guess, he drew from a cigarette as he trudged onward.

“Should we…” Silver began, stepping to her side.

Gripped with indecision, Diamond shrugged. On one hand, she would have liked their first prospective customer to be more attractive - on the other, as the saying goes, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Neither her nor Silver’s parents knew what they were up to, presuming they’d gone off to Manehattan for a little graduation celebration for themselves, and they’d spent most of their funds for the trip on equipment, their outfits, a hotel room, and the train tickets.

She held her breath and waited until the very last second to step in the mountainous stallion’s path. “Hey there, stranger.”

Slowing, the stallion brushed a lock of mane from his face and peeked down at her with a cerulean eye. “Yeah?”

“Nothin’,” she sighed, grinning up at him. “Was just wondering if such a big, strong stallion like you had somepony to keep them company for the night…”

Silver didn’t skip a beat, trotting over to her side. “Or two someponies to keep you company…”

His lips spit in a smirk before he took another drag from his cigarette. “How much?”

“Depends on what you’re wanting, stud,” Diamond giggled, boldly stepping to him and cocking her hip.

Mirroring her movements perfectly, Silver giggled. “There’s a discount for both of us.”

“Hmmmph,” he snorted, exhaling a plume of smoke as he looked between them. “All I got is fifty bits.”

Diamond’s brow knit, her lip curled, and her fists balled. Fifty bits? Fifty bits?! She wouldn’t give him a hand-job for fifty measly bits, let alone allow touch her in any way! Moments from giving him a piece of her mind, she felt a slender hand run up her back. As Silver gently tapped her shoulder, her ire subsided ever so slightly.

Looking over and seeing Silver looking at something lower down his body, she followed her friend’s gaze and froze. Though the stallion was fully dressed in a ratty t-shirt, boots, and a pair of ragged jeans, the imprint of something gargantuan lurked within his pants. She’d known zebras were well endowed, having lost track of how many striped studs she’d seen in Play Colt magazines, but she’d never been close enough to appreciate one in the flesh.

“Fifty bits,” she groused, foregoing a handshake and turning. “We got a room across the street.”

“Works for me, toots,” he rumbled, stooping over and smacking her ass.

Biting her tongue and sensing her marehood seize upon itself, she strutted across the street beside Silver and motioned for him to follow. While getting frisky with some impudent, out of shape stallion wasn’t exactly ideal, it was better than nothing. The stud was just a stepping stone, the first in a long line of lover’s who’d be paying out of their ears to be with her, and she was sure she’d forget all about him by the morning.

She and Silver made their way through the shabby hotel’s lobby, up the elevator, and to their room within moments - all while the stallion railed along behind her. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be that bad. The fat, ugly bastard probably would blow a load in no time, cumming seconds after seeing their nubile, gorgeous bodies, and spend the rest of his life regretting being such a cheapskate.

Opening the door and stepping in behind the John and her friend, she locked up behind herself. “Money up front…”

Chuckling to himself, the stallion shook his head. “I ain’t payin’ shit until the job’s done, doll.”

Silver nervously stepped between him and Diamond. “M…maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Silver and this is Diamond,” she stammered, waving a hand over at her buddy. “We just don’t want to get ripped off, that’s all.”

“Name’s Gizufi, but you can call me Giz,” he muttered, “and I’m in the same boat as you two.”

“How?” Diamond pressed, glaring up and over at him.

Lowering a hand, he unbuttoned the front of his jeans and pulled at the fly. “‘Cause I ain’t payin’ you unless you can actually handle it.”

“The hell do you mean can ha…” The words died in Diamond’s throat as he hauled his pants downward and proved his point.

Giz’ stallionhood was a behemoth, easily one of the largest she’d ever laid her eyes on, and he wasn’t even hard. Covered in coal-black flesh and with a large, angry vein snaking along one side, the imposing length twitched and languidly swelled. She’d figured he was packing some serious heat, but this was absolutely absurd.

“Yeah,” he laughed, grabbing the base of his dick and wagging it at her, “he kinda has that effect on bitches. So are we doing this or what?”

“I…” she croaked, licking her lips and feeling her nipples go hard. “Sure, I guess.”

As she inched closer to him, unable to look away from his gargantuan endowment, he held up a hand and stopped her. “Ain’t you gonna strip first?”

Diamond swallowed hard and nodded. “R…right. Silver?”

Glancing over to the side, she realized she hadn’t needed to speak. Looking far more excited than herself, Silver peeled her clothes off and tossed them to the side. What the hay was going on? Usually she was the assertive one, taking the lead for anything and everything they did together, yet her friend had gotten naked before she’d removed even the first piece of clothing.

She scrunched her snout and unzipped the side of her skirt, annoyed but eager to get the entire affair over with. Without saying a word, she undressed and threw her attire onto the dresser. Buck it - it really didn’t matter who stripped first, and she was gonna show herself off to somepony sooner or later, so she may as well get used to being in the buff around strangers.

“Hot damn,” he mused. “I might need to ask you two for ID, because you’re looking like jail bait.”

With a scathing remark on her lips, Diamond glowered up at his face - at least she tried to glower at his face. Her irritation was instantly eclipsed by awe as she spied what the little show had done to his endowment. Nearly twice as big as it had been moments prior, his monstrous cock hung menacingly under its own weight.

He kicked his pants away as he stepped over and seated himself on the foot of the bed. “C’mon, he won’t bite.”

Diamond crossed to him and fell to her knees, moving thoughtlessly while fixating on his endowment. Was this really happening? How in the heck was she going to be able to service something so massive? What would the people who watched her think? Her eyes darted to several points in the room and cameras they’d concealed there, reminding her that everything that happened was being recorded.

Shuffling forward, she drew a breath to steady herself and almost gagged. Gaz clearly wasn’t an affluent zebra, but that was no excuse for his poor hygiene. Though the musk assailing her was overwhelming, making it hard to think and clinging to her sinuses, it wasn’t completely unpleasant - plus the view of his package made it easy to ignore the funky smell radiating from his clearly unwashed loins. She extended a hand to the tip of his length, lifted it, and shuddered feeling its weight against her palm.

Sweet, merciful Celestia, his cock weighed a ton and looked even more massive up close. Glancing up and seeing the expectantly look on his face, she leaned in. Regardless of the stink, how bad he tasted, or if she’d be able to fit him in her snout, she’d be darned if she wasn’t going to put on one heck of a show.

As she made out with his cock-head and stroked him off with both hands, a bead of nectar crept down her inner thigh. While she was anxious and slightly put-off by Gaz, she was getting more and more turned on by the second. She momentarily grappled with the choice of fondling his big, ripe balls or rubbing her aching snatch while opening her mouth as wide as she could.

To Tartarus with it - bearing in mind that the little home movie would soon find its way to the public, getting off while serving him would be prudent. Massaging her marehood, she managed to work her snout around the immense stallionhood. Flavors of sweat and pre-cum danced over her taste buds while her jaw strained. She was only able to get a few inches of his length into her muzzle, a mere fraction of what he had to offer, but that wasn’t her fault.

While she was far from a virgin, having bedded a number of her old classmates in Ponyville, Gaz was unlike any of her past partners. An actual behemoth and from a class far removed from her own, the colossus was as different from her as the night was from the day. Bobbing her head and mopping his shaft with her lips, she stiffened when he leaned over her and grabbed the base of her skull.

“I ain’t payin’ you to fuck around,” he growled.

The gruff statement was all the warning she had. In the blink of an eye, he wrenched her forward and forced the entirety of his cock down her gullet. Her eyes bulged, her throat spasmed, and a tear ran down her cheek as her nose was pressed to his crotch. One part of her was furious, incensed that he’d be so rough with a refined mare like herself, but another, far more sinful part of her was nothing short of enamored.

“Glk - Mmph - Glk…”

Quite literally choking on him, with her lungs burning and heart racing in her bosom, she played with one tit while driving three fingers into her slavering marehood. Despite her inability to breathe, the tinge of panic clawing at her mind, and his condescending expression, she couldn’t think of a time she’d been more aroused. She was his whore, just some stress relief for him, and any enjoyment she received was just a byproduct of being with him.

On and on he went, only giving her the occasional sip of air. As her anger faded, her libido raged. Nopony had ever treated her like this, and she knew she should have been angry, but the audacity of being so violently used was thrilling beyond reason. On the cusp of release that defied her discomfort, she gasped when he released her and shoved her back.

“Was wondering when you’d come join us,” he clucked, spreading his legs. “Go on, don’t be shy.”

Diamond coughed and mopped a mixture of drool and pre-cum from her face as she was gently pushed to one side. She’d expected Diamond to spectate, not for the least of which reasons being there were only fifty bits on the line, although her friend had other plans. Catching her breath, she watched as two slender, grey hands ran up and down the giant’s glistening shaft.

“Atta girl,” he whispered.

Driven by jealousy and the fact that she’d been robbed of a climax, Diamond shot forward and tongued his length. Following her lead, Silver licked and kissed the opposite side of his length. She didn’t think there was a camera that could adequately capture their actions, but she was sure that he, if nopony else, was enjoying the spectacle of two young mares practically worshiping his junk.

They were only able to venerate him for a short time, caressing and licking his tremendous length before he patted them on their heads. Reluctantly shying away, they peered up at him as he rose to his full height and loomed over them. Though he was a veritable titan, there was only so much that a pair of harlots could do for him - or so Diamond thought.

“Alright, fillies,” he murmured, motioning to the bed. “Faces down, asses up.”

Silver didn’t hesitate, scrambling onto the mattress and presenting herself like a bitch in heat, though Diamond faltered. She’d only barely been able to fit him in her gullet - even then, that had been because he’d effectively rutted her snout, so there was no way he could actually fuck her ~ could he? Unsure of what to do, she started when he loudly clapped Silver’s upturned tush.

“Guess you get seconds then - that or you can clean my dick after I’m done breeding your friend,” he snickered, getting into position behind Silver.

“W…wait!” Diamond bleated.

Crawling up beside Silver and assuming the exact same position as her friend, she peered over her shoulder and braced her knees. She hadn’t wanted to get fucked by him, but the situation had changed. With Silver ready and more than willing to get ravaged by the boorish stud, she couldn’t bring herself to sit idly.

Gaz rolled his eyes and shook his head, appearing both amused and a touch sympathetic. “Once I’m done with her, I’ll give you what you’re wanting - until then…”

Whimpering and clutching the sheets beneath her, Diamond bucked back when a pair of thick digits plunged into her. His fingers were thick and calloused, as unrefined as the rest of him, and they felt amazing. As she snaked one hand under herself to stroke her clit, her pitiful moan was eclipsed by a blissful howl from next to her.

Somehow, even though Silver wasn’t as experienced as herself, Gaz drove his prodigious stallionhood into her. She writhed and clawed at the bed while her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The sight of such a behemoth filling her was obscene in every sense of the word, yet it was overshadowed when he started to truly fuck her.

With her rapture growing by leaps and bounds, fueled by envy and a growing need to be rutted, Diamond grabbed a pillow to stifle herself. Simply getting finger banged would have gotten her off pretty darn quickly, but getting to watch Silver getting ruined, practically turned inside out while cumming over and over, was more than she could bear. Covering her face in the cushion, she trembled and gushed nectar over Gaz’ hand.

“Hot damn, a squirter,” he guffawed. “I’m gonna have fun with you, but first I gotta - Mmmph - blow a load in your friend.”

He virtually ignored and halfheartedly fingered her while he focused on Silver. Each of his thrusts was devastating, pushing the young mare’s face into the mattress while her body lurched forward, and he showed no signs of slowing. She would have given almost anything to be closer to the action, to see her friend’s cunt being utterly destroyed, but there was one thing that gave her hope, one thing she prayed would come to pass - that he’d make good on his promise and plow her next.

The sound of her pathetic whining, Silver’s screaming and mindless gibbering from the countless orgasms she was having, and the meaty Plap Plap Plap of bodies slapping against one another filled the air. Gaz’ endurance was unparalleled, far and away from any stallion’s she’d ever been with, and it seemed to go on without an end. It was only when she noticed his rhythm become frantic that she had any idea he was getting close.

Clamping his eyes shut in concentration, Gaz held himself back for as long as he could. Age and species notwithstanding, there was only so long any stallion could last - for him, his peak came after Silver had cum well over a dozen times. He briefly hilted himself, snarled, and stepped back.

The pitch of Silver’s wailing raised an octave when he withdrew his flared, throbbing stallionhood from her. She’d surely gotten at least a few shots of zebra spunk straight in her foal-factory, but the overwhelming majority of his seed was sent spattering over her rump, back, and mane. Marked inside and out by a true stud for the very first time, and she collapsed as he finished claiming her.

Nearly delirious with longing, Diamond spun around and reached for his jizz-slathered length. “W…want me to suck it clean?”

He peaked a brow as he looked down at her. “As cute as that’d be, I got something else in mind. Lay down and spread ‘em.”

Flopping to her side then rolling to her back, Diamond was dragged to the side of the mattress by an ankle. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was about to screw her in a missionary position, but she was taken aback when he paused and lifted Silver from the bed. Gazing up and watching as her friend was brought over her, she gulped.

“Eat my cum out of her while I knock your stupid ass up,” he instructed, releasing Silver and letting her fall on Diamond’s face.

Knocked up? He wasn’t actually going to try and put a bun in her oven ~ was he? Her parents would kill her if they found out she ended up getting pregnant, but the notion of trotting around Ponyville, gravid and carrying some bastard foal, did have some appeal. Looking into Silver’s gaped, leaking depths, she warily did as she’d been told.

Gaz wasted no time, snickering to himself as he took one of her legs in each hand and pressed the tip of his length to her entrance. Nothing could have prepared her for him, no amount of masturbation or foreplay, but that didn’t stop him from bucking his hips and impaling her. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, allowing the spunk flowing from Silver’s marehood to flow into her maw as a mind-blowing climax overtook her.

There should have been some pain from sheathing a cock as big as her arm, yet her every sense was blinded by ecstasy. An orgasm couldn’t begin to describe the experience, so profound and intense was the sensation. Crying into her friend’s nethers, she smeared her face with a combination of marish juices and virile jizz.

This wasn’t having a quickie with some random stud, and it certainly wasn’t making love to somepony she cared about - this was visceral, she was an outlet for Gaz’ sexual frustrations, and realizing that was a transcendent experience. Her sanity and the spoiled child she’d once been was flayed away, revealing her true purpose. She’d never been a spiritual pony, yet the unfathomable understanding that this was where she belonged and that Scootaloo, Sweetie, and Apple Bloom hadn’t become porn stars for money alone rocked her to her core.

She could feel him sieging her womb, battering against her inner gate with every plunge as he steadily moved faster. Hit with wave after wave of pure pleasure, she lost herself. He may not have known who she was, where she was from, or what her ulterior motives were for luring him back to her room, but he’d done something to her that nopony ever had. Regardless of whether she was getting paid for it or not, she didn’t think she’d be able to go back to pony stallions ever again.

Each climax that struck her was more potent than the last, draining what little strength she had and making it impossible for her to focus on anything but the images being a single mother from dancing through her cock-addled mind. Marish nectar jetted from her stuffed confines, the world faded in and out of existence, and yelled until her throat was sorer than it had been after Gaz had resized it. If nothing else, should she never see him again, at least she’d have a video to commemorate the first of what would be many similar trysts.

Time lost all meaning as she weaved in and out of a rapturous coma. The only reason she didn’t succumb to the nothingness attempting to consume her was because some sliver of her higher self sensed him beginning to flare. Bolting upright without knowing where or when Silver had gotten off of her, she stared down at her bulging abdomen with a rictus grin on her snout.

“F…Fill me,” she hysterically rasped.

As she spied Silver kneeling behind him, rimming him as he came to the finish line, it dawned on her that their plan had backfired. Maybe they’d get famous for getting railed by zebras, or maybe they’d end up going back to Ponyville and starting families of their own - regardless, they were both changed mares. Leaning over and locking lips with her, Gaz drove her ankles up to either side of her head, pinned her to the mattress, and locked lips with her.

She’d often dreamt about being bred by a Zebrican, yet her imagination hadn’t done it justice. Visions of his seed surging into her, questing for a ripe, innocent egg to despoil, gave her one final, apocalyptic orgasm before he pulled away. It would have been nice if he’d stayed hilted for longer, allowing all of his cum to be deposited as deeply as possible, but he’d given her enough to satisfy her.

He straightened, gently shooed Silver away, and mopped his brow. “Not a bad lay, mares,” he huffed. Plodding over to his discarded jeans, he stooped down, retrieved a fistful of bits, and threw it onto the cum-soaked bed. “Here ya go.”

After getting his clothes back on and reaching the door, Silver stirred. “W…wait!”

“You want somethin’?” he grumbled, looking back at the mare.

Diamond shakily pushed herself up and met her friend’s gaze. Silver’s expression mirrored how she felt, desperate for more but not knowing how to proceed. Anything else they did that evening wouldn’t gain them any funds, and they’d already gotten more than enough footage for one night, although Gaz had kindled something within them.

“Free,” she wheezed. “W…we’ll give you another lay for free…”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Gaz peered up at the ceiling and shrugged. “I dunno, I got work tomorrow and -”

“Here,” Silver interjected, scooping up the golden coins and hurling them at his feet. “You can keep these if you stay.”

A wide, twisted smile split his muzzle as his hands moved to his waistband. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I could hang out for a little longer…”

He loosened and dropped his pants, but this wasn’t like when he’d first unveiled his endowment. Diamond and Silver clambered over to him, crawling and leaving a snail’s trail of spunk in their wake as they fought to reach him and the mare-breaker he called a stallionhood. Having more than enough cock to share and leave them walking funny for the better part of a week, he tenderly caressed their heads and gave them what they desperately desired…

Twilight

“I really can’t thank you enough for rolling out the carpet for me,” Twilight hummed, taking another drink of her wine. “This is really good, by the way.”

Dipping his head, smiling across the table at his guest, ambassador Mkuu dismissively waved a hand. “Please, the honor is all ours! And I’ll be sure to pass your praise along to the vineyard; it’s one of the few creature comforts we have remaining.”

Watching her empty her glass, he fought back a smirk. She’d been visiting the newly rebuilt palace for three days, and she’d been eating at the banquet hall for each and every meal. Ordinarily speaking, had she been anybody else, it would have been a trivial point, but she wasn’t anybody else - she was a Princess. His eyes shot to one of the nearby servants, silently commanding him to step forward.

“Would you like another?” he softly inquired, fondly extending a hand.

Fanning herself, the mare shook her head. “No thank you, I think three is more than enough for me - as a matter of fact, I may just retire for the night.”

Mkuu’s smile broadened, as he waved the attendant away. “Then by all means, allow me to escort you to your chamber.” Pushing himself away from the table, he stood, crossed to his guest, and extended his arm. “My Princess…”

Gently taking her hand, helping her to her feet, he turned and began walking with her to the exit. Though it was subtle, the effects of her stay had begun to show an effect. He’d expected her to have some resilience to his little ploy, what with being an alicorn, although he’d slowly watched her succumb. The way he caught her looking at him, as well as her increasingly relaxed and congenial demeanor would have been telling enough, but the most telling sign had only just begun to manifest - she was going into heat.

Without the natural abilities of flight or magic, his people had become masters of alchemy and botany. Through trial and error, over generations of study, their potion making skills were left unrivalled, inevitably offering them their single best to repopulate as a species and reap retribution against the ponies who’d shunned them. With so few females available, there was a way they could kill two birds with one insidious stone.

“Here we are,” Mkuu noted, showing the Princess into her room. Looking to his guest, knitting his brow, his smile wavered. “Are you alright?”

“I...I’m…” Twilight sputtered, lurching towards him.

Acting quickly, turning to face her, the towering stallion caught the mare in his arms. The elixir she’d been steadily dosed with was painstakingly crafted and extremely potent; besides acting as an aphrodisiac, it drove any mare who consumed it into estrus, induced a state of euphoria, and increased the sensitivity of their erogenous zones to an almost unfathomable level - in short, it would easily allow any pony mare to fully appreciate the sinful pleasures a zebra stud could offer.

The Princess’ head came to rest on his broad, bare chest, as she pressed herself against him. Being the assigned dignitary of his race, he’d chosen to wear the traditional attire of his people. While his regal visitor was adorned in a simple, yet beautiful gown, the only attire about his chiseled frame was a leather loincloth. Outside of being practical and comfortable, it allowed his guest to slip glances to his concealed equipment - equipment which her hand was steadily drifting towards.

“Princess,” he murmured, while her fingers glided over his waist, “is there some way I could...assist you.”

Wrenching her hand away, as if startled by his question, she peered up at his face. “I...I don’t…” she trailed off, drawing a breath and shivering in his grasp.

Seeing her nipples go erect, beneath the sheer fabric of her dress, he chuckled. “My Princess, please, there is no shame here. You are a healthy, young mare, and I am stallion - if anything, you should embrace your curiosity,” he sincerely remarked. “As a matter of fact…”

Releasing her, just as her digits strayed under his loincloth, he stepped back. Though it was painfully obvious that she was worked up, judging from the scent of her arousal and her barely restrained interest in him, he wanted to see what it took to shatter her resolve. Having a bashful female would have been sufficient for many, but not for him - not under such conditions. Reaching for his hip, he playfully tugged at the string holding his lone garment in place.

“If you’d like me to indulge you, perhaps you could inspire me beforehand,” he mused.

“Inspire?” she parroted, her eyes never straying from his covered loins.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, shrewdly rubbing his chin. “Though our species are similar, I’ve often wondered what the differences are between ponies and zebras…”

The Princess’ eyes widened, if only slightly, as her jaw flapped silently. “Y...you want me to strip?”

Mkuu closed his eyes, disinterestedly shrugging. “A simple curiosity, I meant no…”

Before he could even finish his statement, the mare had reached behind herself and began unzipping her gown. Though she certainly appeared timid, averting her gaze, her actions spoke more than any words ever could. She wished to see his nude form, to the point where she was disrobing before him. The garment flowed over her shoulders, past her perky bosoms, and down her abdomen, putting her body on display.

“Wondrous,” he warmly intoned, drinking in her figure, “absolutely wondrous.”

Steadily walking around her, he drank in her every feature. From her delicate ankles to the top of her head, she was a fine specimen - at least, as fine of a specimen as a pony could be. With full hips and a generous chest, he felt certain that she’d make a fine mother for a beautiful striped foal.

She was relatively attractive, he was more interested to see how far she’d be willing to bend for him. The elixir she’d been steadily consuming was clearly effective, clouding an alicorn’s mind with lust, but to what extent he couldn’t say. As she meekly attempted to cover herself, blushing heavily, she tracked him with her eyes. True to his word, came around and faced her, he pulled the string of his loincloth and allowed the article to drift to the floor.

“Sweet Celestia,” Twilight gasped, her mouth agape.

“It is rather impressive, if I may be immodest,” he snickered, idly stroking his semi-rigid length.

He knew good and well that his equipment was superior to any pony stallions, yet he didn’t want to forsake his humble act - anyways, not yet. Blood surged into his length, causing it to swell and lengthen with each passing second, as he nonchalantly rubbed himself. Though he was staring dead at her face, the Princess seemed mesmerized by the sight of his tool, prompting him to make the next step.

“Come and have a closer look, if you’re so inclined. Trust me, I won’t bite,” he purred. “That is, unless you want me to…”

Without skipping a beat, Twilight stepped forward and reverently sank to her knees. With shaking hands, openly panting, she reached out and graced his tender flesh. Her touch was reeked of inexperience and hesitation, both conditions he had every intention of remedying in due time. Resting his hands on his hips, content to let her fondle him, he sighed.

Kneeling before him, the mare pressed her muzzle to the trunk-like base of his cock, deeply inhaled, and groaned. He’d seen the sight before, when a female loses herself to the overpowering aroma of a powerful, virile stallion, but he’d never once tired of it. Like a fumbling neophyte, enthusiastic yet inexperienced, she drew her tongue up his pendulous nuts, over his sheath, and to the underside of his shaft.

The sensation of her warm tongue and pouting lips was pleasing enough, but not as pleasing as seeing her inhibitions crumble. Her breaths were deep and steady, flooding her sinuses with his musk, while she coated her tastebuds with the unsullied flavor of his unwashed loins. It wasn’t until she shifted in place, moving one hand to her groin, did he put an end to her hedonism.

“Princess, if I may be so bold, perhaps we should move to the bed,” he quietly remarked, motioning to the nearby mattress.

The mare’s crestfallen expression, having his equipment suddenly removed from her muzzle, shifted to one of scarcely hidden excitement. Bolting up, swiftly trotting to the bed, she seated herself on the edge of her mattress. Had she been adequately experienced, she would have hauled the stud along behind herself, although he’d forgive her the small slight. Casually strolling after her, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Now then, just lay back and relax,” he cooed, softly pressing her backwards.

As Twilight reclined, resting her back against the soft sheets, her naked body was laid bare. A trail of glimmering nectar had crept down her inner thigh, beneath her moist and engorged marehood, yet those weren’t the only signs of her arousal. On her abdomen, just above her pelvis, an intricate black sigil of a heart covered in vines had appeared. The sign marked the final process of the potion’s touch, bringing a grin to Mkuu’s face.

Apparently noticing what held his attention, the Princess pushed herself up and gazed at her belly. “What is -”

“Nothing to worry about,” he sweetly interrupted, leaning forward to caress her legs, “many who visit Zebrica develop such a crest.”

“It’s like a cutie mark?” she asked, subconsciously glancing at his turgid stallionhood.

“In a sense,” he smoothly replied, bringing his hands under her knees, “it’s a sign that one is truly devoted to this land and her people.”

“Oh,” Twilight apathetically responded, almost as if she felt obligated to say something.

Laying back, as the towering stud lifted her legs, she pawed at her chest. It was cute, in a way, seeing a mare so clearly desperate to be bred, but it simply wouldn’t suffice - perhaps for a female zebra, but not for some mere pony. She was beneath him, in every conceivable way, she just didn’t realize it yet. Flashing her a toothy smirk, stepping forward, he ground his length over her sex.

Her eyelids fluttered, she trembled slightly, and she shamelessly twisted and tugged at her nipples - still, she didn’t give voice to her desires. Rocking his hips forward and back, rubbing himself between her meaty lower lips, he patiently waited. He’d taken her this far, bore himself to her, and allowed her to bask in his divine perfume; if she wanted more, she’d have to ask for it.

Sure enough, as the seconds dragged by, she reluctantly peered up at his face. “Y...you said you’d indulge me…”

“Have I not?” he countered, his motions unceasing. “I’m sorry, you may have to be more specific.”

Casting her head to the side, as her cheeks darkened, she looked away. “You know…”

“I’m sorry, but I do not,” he smoothly answered, bringing the tip of his length to her entrance. “Is this some form of pony courtship?”

The sensation of the hot, broad tip of his stallionhood against her, taunting her with unfathomable sinful delights, was her undoing. Gripping the bed sheets, scowling, she locked eyes with him. “I want you to rut me!”

She’d pay for the impertinence of her tone later, he’d make sure of that; for now, it was time to give her what she’d wanted - after all, she had worked up the courage to ask. Adjusting his hands, holding firmly onto her ankles, he spread her legs and shuffled forward. As he slowly pressed his hips forward, with all the speed of a glacier, his cock bore against her ripe, juicy snatch.

Little by little, bit by bit, the pressure mounted on her entrance. He’d assumed she’d be tight, though he’d clearly given pony stallions more credit than they were worth. The Princess winced, squirming slightly in place, yet didn’t shy away. Finally, just when he’d begun to question if he’d actually fit, his efforts bore fruit.

The first several inches of his shaft buried themselves in the alicorn, almost instantaneously. While Mkuu had been a bit surprised with the intrusion, his mate didn’t fare nearly as well. Her canal coiled around him, spasming wildly, as her back arched. A throaty, depraved moan escaped her once pristine lips, as feminine juices dribbled and squirted from her stuffed canal. The spontaneous climax was amusing enough, though it left him to wonder how well she’d weather the onslaught to come.

Standing tall, withdrawing a fraction of his length, he lazily started thrusting. In, out, in, out - each small motion drove him deeper into the mare. It was a slow, arduous process, but he didn’t mind. Once he had her properly trained, he’d be much less controlled - for the time being, he’d give her a taste of nirvana and sink the hooks deeper. Feeling some resistance, he glanced downward and grimaced.

He’d already bottomed out, with nearly three inches of his shaft left untouched. Picking up the pace, he gradually increased the force of his plunges. Her silken depths embraced him, snugly wrapping around his pistoning length, chipping away at his restraint. It was almost a shame to know she’d be ruined before long, almost, but that was a concern for his future self - for now, he needed to teach her the joys of serving her new lords.

Moving at a snail’s pace, letting her acclimate to his girth, he watched her slowly melt. The discomfort she’d had bled away, replaced by a look of unbridled ecstasy. She’d already had one orgasm and, if he had to guess, she was rapidly approaching a second. Leaning forward, resting her legs on his shoulders, he brought his face to hers.

Ever so slowly, he forced him motions to grind to a halt. Her blissful expression faded, as her eyes swiftly gained focus and locked on his. The raw desire in her gaze, of wanting him to continue, was marvelous, almost enough to inspire him to continue, but he wanted it wouldn’t suffice. Running one finger under her drool soaked chin, bringing it to her pouting lips, he grinned.

“I’m glad you have enjoyed yourself,” he began, languidly withdrawing his slickened, throbbing shaft, “perhaps I could-”

“Why’d you stop?” she bleated, scanning his face for an answer.

Cocking his head, Mkuu feigned confusion. “My Princess, I’ve already made you peak. What else-”

“B...but I didn’t want you to stop,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with yearning.

Making yet another mental note of her impudence, his soft expression never wavered. “Then perhaps you should ask me for it…”

Though he’d expected some hesitation, he got anything but. Swinging her legs up and kicking them under his arms, she locked her ankles over his hips. Attempting to draw him deeper, while admirable, was a fool’s errand; alicorn or not, there was no way she’d be able to force him to do anything. Steeling himself, realizing the importance of the moment, he took a metered breath.

“I said,” he hissed, all but fully unsheathing his substantial length, “beg for it…”

“Please,” the mare mewled, trying in vain to pull him into her depths. “By Celes -” she cut herself off, realizing that her Princess was no longer her lord, “by Zebrica, I need it.”

Smiling cruelly upon her, seeing she’d slipped past the brink, his eyes went alight. “As you wish, my Princess.”

The moment he finished speaking, he started to move. The delicate plunges from before became cruel and merciless, as he molded her for her new master. Her legs snapped around his waist, his nails sank into her back, and a lilting, whorish wail escaped her, while she was undone. The rapturous song matched the beat of his bucking hips, joining the furious Plap Plap Plap of their bodies, filling the air with a carnal symphony.

On and on he went, heedless for whatever joy she got from the experience. He knew once he was finished with her, she’d be ruined; no pony stallion, regardless of their size or experience, would ever be able to satiate her ever again, such was the devastating combination of the elixir and his sexual expertise. He was simply superior, a fact that his new whore would become well acquainted with.

Seconds passed into minutes, and longer still, as he plowed her like an ancient fertility god - still, even he had his limits. With his heart thundering in his chest, covered in beads of sweat, he felt his time coming to an end. Briefly locking lips with the alicorn, evoking yet another catastrophic climax from the lust addled mare, he broke their kiss.

“I’m getting close,” he huffed, clenching his jaw.

“I...I want it!!” she howled, tightening her grasp.

The plea was the sweetest of songs he’d ever heard, sealing her fate and the fate of her people. Jackhammering away, freeing his body of the hindrances he’d imposed upon it, he pulled out all the stops. For the briefest of moments, just as he tipped over the edge, he delivered the full might of his kind - that was, before he brought her to the gates of nirvana. With one final, herculean thrust, he battered his way through her cervix.

Twilight’s mouth hung open in a silent scream, as he flared inside her womb and came. His ordinarily productive nature had been augmented by a virility potion and several days worth of self control, making the load he’d been storing exceptionally massive. Pints of seed surged through his pulsing stallionhood, overflowing her in a seemingly impossible way. He had little doubt that he was siring his foal within her, what with the sheer output of his seed, yet he knew it was only the first of many such offspring.

In claiming a Princess, he’d secured a foothold to the entire Equestrian empire. Her body belonged to him, and her mind would soon follow. Under her guidance, her people would bend the knee and come to realize their place in the world - breeding and serving their betters. Holding her tightly, making sure every last drop of his essence seeped into her, he grunted triumphantly.

Though neither of them could see it, the enchanted mark on Twilight’s abdomen flashed with power. For the blink of an eye, the image of a clasped lock flashed, before the intricate vines and brambles about the mark expanded outward. The signature was one of possession, one which would grow with the devotion of the bearer, and it signified her rank to any and all who saw it.

“My sweet,” Mkuu whispered, bringing his muzzle to her ear, “perhaps tomorrow morning, after a long and lovely night at your side, we can readdress Ponyville’s stance on harboring some of our refugees.”

The cum-drunk pony nodded, smiling idiotically at him. Embracing her, immaculately pretending to care, he drove his tongue into her snout. Before long, he’d have her at his beck and call, though he still needed to be cautious. Until she and the rest of her inferior pony ilk were bonded to his kin, serving them without question, there was still much work to be done…

Velvet

“Go on,” Nasara urged, leveling the camera at the mare standing beside the bed, “tell them who you are.”

“I...I’m Twilight Velvet,” the unicorn stammered, nervously grinding her thighs together.

“And you’re here because…?” he smugly continued, nonchalantly stroking his hardening, coal-black length.

Unsteadily unbuttoning her blouse, unable to look away from the titanic cock at the young zebra’s loins, she felt her marehood hungrily seize upon itself. “I’m h...here because…”

“Go on,” he snickered, “be honest.”

Unlike his host, the zebra was fully naked - then again, that was all part of the plan. He wasn’t the star of the show, Velvet was - at least, for the time being. She’d been kind enough to invite him over, and hadn’t stopped him when he’d asked to use her phone, so she knew what she was in for. Cocking his hips, firmly grasping the root of his shaft, he playfully waggled his dick at her.

“I’m here because I...I want to get fucked,” she finally admitted.

Opening her top, the fabric of her blouse hung loosely over her bare chest. Though her rack wasn’t wholly exposed, one mauve colored areola peeked from beneath the garment. The naughty bit of flesh stood out like a beacon, contrasting against her lighter colored coat, but that wasn’t the only thing to be unveiled. In preparation for their tender moment, her torso had been marked with dark bands of paint.

“And why do you want to be fucked? Don’t you have a husband?” the striped stallion conceitedly asked, as his dick drooled a bead of pre-cum to the floor.

The mention of her husband caused her cheeks to darken, only then causing her to avert her gaze. “I do, but you’re so much bigger than him…”

Flashing his teeth at her, slowly stepping closer, he trained the camera squarely at her face. “And why is that?”

“B...because,” she faltered, as the tip of his shaft bumped against her groin. “Because zebras are superior…”

“Good girl,” he whispered. Reaching out and sweetly caressing her face, he nodded to his groin. “How about you show everyone how eager you are.”

With only the slightest bit of hesitation, feeling her reluctance slowly slip away, she settled into a deep squat before him. Though he was only a teenager, barely an adult, he was vastly more endowed than her betrothed - sure, she loved her husband, but it would have been impossible for any woman to resist the temptation of an adonis like Nasara. Lifting her arms, grasping the base of his tool with one hand, while gently cradling his prodigious nuts with the other, she lightly kissed the tip of his length.

She’d always heard that zebras were paragons of virility, but she couldn’t have fathomed how true that really was. Nasara and his father had moved in next door nearly a month ago, and it hadn’t taken her long to notice the young stud eyeing her from a distance. It had been cute at first, knowing she’d inadvertently attracted someone so much younger than herself, but things had escalated from there.

Casual compliments had turned into overt flirting, inconspicuous glances transitioned into flashing skin or intentionally revealing outfits, and the friendly hugs had evolved into outright groping or fondling. She’d always told herself that she’d be faithful, that she would never cheat on her lover, yet she’d underestimated her own womanly desires. With her husband away for the weekend, and the teenager realizing she had the home to herself, she hadn’t stood a chance - then again, she had little fight left in her.

As much as it pained her to admit it, she’d gotten off to thoughts of him in the past. Even while fully clothed, the imprint of his endowment was unmistakable and, despite her best efforts, she caught herself ogling his body more and more often. She’d even taken an interest in watching interspecies porn, hoping that it would quench her growing thirst, yet it ultimately wasn’t enough; in the end, she succumbed to her lecherous urges and confessed her interest.

Smirking, keeping the phone angled at her face, Nasara recorded the mature mare fervently suckled on the first few inches of his shaft. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he knew he was going to ruin her humble little life. She was startlingly attractive for her age, with an impressive bust, large, child-bearing hips, and a pretty face, which is precisely why he didn’t care if she was in a relationship or not. There was no possible way her husband could rival him, and he was going to make good and damn sure that she became addicted to what he had to offer.

“Play with yourself, Slut, and remember that this is a show,” he softly tutted, grabbing her bobbing head with his free hand.

Freeing her hands, secretly thankful for the request, Velvet twisted and tugged at her teats. Though she was far from a novice in the bedroom, she struggled to deal with his monstrous cock. The thick, vascular appendage was nearly as large as her arm, in both length and girth, and it was easily the biggest dick she’d ever had in her mouth; thankfully, he was more than happy to help with the monumental endeavor.

Firmly clutching the back of her head, Nasara slowly drove his hips forward. As he forced the blunt tip of his length into her throat, she weakly gagged and sputtered around him. It was cute of her to assume he’d be satisfied with the lackluster oral, but he wasn’t upset - no, he was happy she was struggling. Properly training a female was immeasurably rewarding, ensuring they did things properly, and he had every intention of breaking his busty neighbor in.

Choking on the colossal shaft, unable to escape, Velvet reached to her nethers and sank two fingers into herself. She’d always dreamt of having her throat swabbed by an exotic and well-hung stud, yet she could never have guessed that she’d ever get to experience it, not to mention from someone nearly half her age. Furiously getting herself off, just as her nose bumped against his crotch, she peeked up at him.

Grinning down at her, holding the camera off to the side, his eyes met hers. He really was an incubus, having teased her for so long, and part of her was thankful that she’d met him. She did feel a bit guilty for breaching her husband’s trust, but she wasn’t the only one to blame; if Night Light had actually seen to her sexual needs, instead of placing a priority on his work, she wouldn’t have had to resort to adultery. In the end, she wasn’t too concerned; as long as nobody else found out, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

Taking his time, taking care to give her the periodic sip of air, he thoroughly swabbed her throat. Her efforts were admirable, even if they needed a bit of polish, so he wasn’t too hard on her. There was a fine line to walk with mares, putting them in their place without being exceedingly rough, but the end result was worth the effort. Once properly introduced to a stud like himself, they’d never be satisfied with a pony stallion.

Fucking into her muzzle, relishing her taut gullet, he begrudgingly pulled away. Truth be told, he was amazed that she was able to fully throat him; there weren’t many women around who could fellate a zebra, let alone one of his substantial endowment, which scored her a few more points in his book - still, skilled or not, she’d need to breathe eventually. Releasing his grip, he stepped back and hauled his rigid shaft from her airway.

As his cock-head cleared her snout, leaving glistening strands of pre-cum and saliva connecting her lips to his tool, he subtly moved the camera to capture her abdomen and groin. Despite having just had her esophagus despoiled by someone as young as her child, she was shamelessly getting off like a horny teenager. Retreating slightly, getting a better view of her depravity, he recorded her finger-fucking herself.

“Want it bad, huh?” he sympathetically inquired, tauntingly flexing his cock.

“Yeah,” she groaned, plunging a third digit into her slavering snatch.

His scent clung to her sinuses, the flavor of his loins coated her palate, and she couldn’t look away from his immense tool. Though he was but a juvenile, her marish instincts pined for the virile seed stored within his plump, weighty balls. She could practically feel her womb descending, radiating warmth through her abdomen, as the primal portions of her mind prepared her to be bred.

Turning his head, he nodded to the bed. “If that’s the case, how about you lay down for me.”

Velvet’s ears perked up, moments before she shot to her feet and scrambled onto the mattress. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so excited for anything, and the thrill of it all crushed her inhibitions. Flopping onto the mattress, with her rump hanging just off the side, she spread and lifted her legs. Wholly ignoring the wedding photo on her nightstand, just within arm’s reach, her guest and his massive dick were the only things she was concerned about.

“Would you look at that,” Nasara remarked, staring at her sopping wet loins. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mare this turned on before.”

As peculiar as it may have sounded, he’d been truthful. While he had bedded a number of ponies in the past, his neighbor was by far the oldest and most enthusiastic. He honestly didn’t care that she was married, but knowing he’d tempted her into doing something so scandalous did add an exotic element to their budding relationship. Grabbing the base of his length, he slapped his dick against her neatly presented cunt.

Bucking his hips, running his shaft over her clit, he watched her shiver in delight. “You want it?”

Nodding her head, Velvet found it suddenly difficult to speak. Sucking someone off was bad enough, but getting plowed behind her husband’s back was something she swore she’d never do. Trembling, feeling him bring his meaty glans to her entrance, she turned her head to the side and looked away. She wanted him - sweet stars above how she wanted him - but she couldn’t give voice to her desires; sadly, as she quickly discovered, she really didn’t have an option on the matter.

“Beg for it,” Nasara purred, prodding her sex. “If you don’t, you’ll never know how amazing it is…”

“P...please,” she breathed, giving in to her compulsions.

“Please what,” he pressed, running his tip between her meaty lower lips.

Feeling as though she was about to go mad with lust, desperate to feel him inside her, she knit her brow. It was clear that he was enjoying himself, virtually forcing her to say just what she’d been wanting him to do all along, yet her conscience struggled against her desires. Seconds dragged by, feeling like a small eternity, before her urges got the better of her.

“Please,” she whimpered, bashfully meeting his eyes, “fuck meeeeEEEE - Oh my god!”

Before she could even finish speaking, Nasara ground his shaft into her. The sensation of her hot, snug confines seemed almost virginal - then again, considering she’d likely never wrangled with someone as well hung as him, they may as well have been. Her eyes rolled back, orgasmic nectar squirted and dribbled around her stuffed entrance, and her legs snapped shut around his hips, causing his smile to broaden.

“Cumming already? Jeez - I thought older mares were supposed to have some self-control,” he mused, despoiling her depths inch by inch.

Given zebras’ endowment, endurance, and hunger for conquest, any ordinary pony stallion would never be able to satisfy a woman they’d bedded, married or not. He almost felt bad for Night Light - almost - but it wasn’t his fault that he was simply superior. Watching the imprint of his dick appear within her abdomen, quite literally seeing himself molding her into his perfect little sex-pet, he started to genuinely fuck.

Instinctively grabbing her breasts, Velvet tugged at her nipples. She’d always thought she was experienced with sex, having been rather adventurous in her youth, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Though they’d only just begun, the pure intensity and unadulterated bliss of being plowed by a zebra was beyond reproach - that being said, she couldn’t bring herself not to reciprocate.

Locking her legs around his hips, after having given herself a moment to acclimate to the gargantuan intrusion, she began bucking up to meet his thrusts. Be darned if she was going to get fucked into a stupor by a teenager, yet the task proved harder than she realized. Despite her past sexual exploits, and awe-inspiring carnal prowess, it took everything she had just to keep up with him.

“I’m - Mmmph - impressed,” Nasara grunted, dialing up the intensity.

He could easily say that she was the first woman of any species to put up a fight, cementing his feelings towards her. While she could never dream of besting him, that wasn’t the point - she’d shown an unimaginable amount of determination, winning his favor and ultimately his coveted seed. Grabbing her hip with one hand, while periodically training the camera between her swaying breasts, drooling face, or pounded cunt, he made sure to record every delicious moment of the sinful experience.

The monumental size of his dick was only rivaled by the skill and force of his thrusts, swiftly withering Velvet’s efforts. Try as she might, it was simply impossible for her to become anything more than a mewling, climaxing mass of thrashing limbs and whorish moans. As unbelievable as it was, her refractory period simply faded away to nothing, overwhelming her in a tumultuous, mind-breaking sea of rapture.

She genuinely couldn’t say how long she’d ended up laying there, having her brains fucked out, but things eventually came to a head. Sensing him throbbing within her, with his steady rhythm devolving into a series of frenzied thrusts, she knew his time was at an end. Summoning a strength she didn’t know she had, seizing control of herself, she flexed her legs and pulled him deeper.

“Inside,” she madly wailed, her very sanity on the cusp of sundering. “Cum in me!!!”

Her frantic plea was like a sweet symphony to Nasara’s ears, bringing him that much closer to his limit. Gritting his teeth, looking slightly to the side, his eyes settled upon the photo of the mare and her loving husband. Seeing the happy couple, fully aware of just how wrong it was to dash their dreams, he reached his limit. With one final, herculean plunge, he drove his cock past her cervix and unloaded straight into her womb.

The sensation of having her deepest depths ravaged, feeling his seed claiming her, was an insane combination of divinity and damnation. Every other orgasm of her life paled in comparison to the ruinous ecstasy she experienced at that moment. She knew she was done for, that the inconceivable volume of his jizz would surely knock her up, but she didn’t care - if anything, realizing she was being despoiled made her climax all the more intense.

Concerns about her husband were swept away by the young stud’s virility and the tide of his essence flooding into her. She felt certain that Night Light would disapprove, but she knew he’d have to understand and forgive her. Though she truly did care for him, there simply wasn’t a comparison between him and Nasara. Not only was the Zebra younger and more energetic, but his performance in the bedroom and his charisma were unmatched. Any mare would have done what she’d done, breaching their sacred vows, in the face of such a perfect mate.

As horrifying as it was, some part of her prayed that she was still fertile enough to bear a foal for him. While she hadn’t planned on having any more children, being proud of the two she had, she was stricken with the compulsion to have another - a fine little zebra brother or sister for Twilight and Shining to fawn over. She knew it was silly, since she wasn’t as young as she used to be, but the joy of having such a virile, energetic lover made her feel like a school filly.

Braying to the heavens, unknowing that her ovaries were going into overdrive, her sanity was undone by the sheer, prolific output of her young lover. Her belly rounded and ballooned outward, impossibly containing what felt like gallons of seething jizz. Pushed past the breaking point, dipping in and out of consciousness, some base part of her mind seized onto what Nasara was to her - her stud.

Some length of time passed, though she had no way of knowing just how long, before something lightly patted her cheek. Wearily looking up, seeing the striped stallion draped over her obscenely swollen belly, she only eventually noticed him holding the phone towards her face. Lost in a mental haze, doing little more than heaving air into her lungs, she couldn’t grasp what he wanted - that was, until he spoke.

“Press send,” he whispered, moving the device closer to her hand. “If you do, I’ll let you suck it clean…”

Feeling his semi-erect cock twitch within her, sending yet another jolt of bliss through her frame, she shuddered. It didn’t matter what he wanted her to do - if it meant getting another unimaginably blissful round with him, she’d do anything. Clenching her snatch around him, trapping most of his spunk within herself, she shakily lifted one arm.

Without a second thought, as a blissful stupor settled over her, she did as he asked. She couldn’t fathom who she sent the video to, or why he wanted to share it, yet she couldn’t care less. Draping her arms over him, after he’d set the phone over to the side, she was wholly ignorant to the message on the little screen.

Message Sent to All Contacts…

Thorax

“Oh cheese and crackers,” Thorax grumbled to himself, fumbling to don an oven mit.

He wasn’t upset that he was wearing a maid outfit, nor that his new chastity cage was exceptionally snug - no, he was unhappy because, if his nose was right, he’d inadvertently burnt the granola. Opening the oven and retrieving the tray, seeing that the baked grain was only slightly on the crisp side, he sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted was to bungle dessert for his big, sweet, loving Daddy.

When he’d heard about Twilight inviting Zebrican refugees into Equestria, he’d gleefully volunteered to take as many as he could into his hives. The way he saw it, the exotic equines needed a home and, as far as he was concerned, as much tender love and care as his people could muster - that said, he hadn’t anticipated being swept off his dainty little feet by the first striped stud off the train! He’d never forget waiting at the station with a throng of his followers, waving banners and carrying snacks for their new neighbors, when he first laid eyes on the stallion of his dreams.

He’d met plenty of big ponies, but not a single one matched Intaba in stature or godly build. Simply put, the giant was an adonis, a carved statue made flesh, and he’d nearly swooned right there at the sight of him. As the titan departed the train and surveyed his surroundings, his piercing, arctic eyes eventually settled squarely upon him. To say he got instantly flustered would have been an understatement - nevertheless, he’d greeted the colossus with as much respectable cheer as he could muster; little did he know that the moment would mark a turning point in his life.

Not only was Intaba an absolute dreamboat, but he was as polite and kindhearted as can be - furthermore, as he’d been quick to discover, the stallion found took an immediate interest in him! What began as daily visits and friendly chats gradually took a more amorous turn, with the zebra openly hitting on him and waxing poetic about how hot he was - needless to say, in spite of his relatively sheepish nature, he’d reciprocated the stallion’s advances. Maybe it was lust, the novel excitement of being around someone so forward, the fact that his colossal guest was so nice, or some combination of the three, but he found it impossible to stave off the banded behemoth’s advances - regardless, it wasn’t long before they began formally dating.

He’d never really had much luck in the romantic world, being too timid to ask anyone out, but Intaba wasn’t bothered by his lack of experience - in fact, if anything, the stallion was happy he hadn’t been in many relationships. His oversized lover taught him all about how a sissy, what he’d apparently been for most of his life, was supposed to behave around their mate. The zebra had picked out frilly, revealing outfits for him, locked his clit in a cage, and nourished his feminine side by leaps and bounds, crafting him into the perfectly demure little lover he was meant to be.

Placing the tray of granola on the kitchen counter, he gradually lost himself to his thoughts. It hadn’t been easy learning how to accommodate the stud’s godly endowment in his pussy or throat, without using his metamorphic abilities, but he’d be lying if he hadn’t loved every second of it. The thought of getting stretched open and fucked raw, manhandled by his stud, caused a bead of pre-cum to leak into his thigh. He almost felt silly for pretending to be a stallion for so long, acting tough while looking over his hive, but the past was the past; now that he’d learned his place and embraced his true self, he was as happy as a clam.

As he merrily hummed to himself, thoughts of his Daddy flitting through his head, he skipped to the refrigerator and pulled out some fresh fruit. He was still technically the leader of his hive - then again, he was still technically a stallion. Though he could have easily transformed himself into a mare, Intaba was quite insistent that he not change a thing about himself - a fact that confused and thrilled him to no end. Intaba had mentioned that there was nothing wrong with being emasculated and deferential to a real stud, and he’d been absolutely right. Stepping back and leaning forward, reaching for a number of chilled apples, he was blissfully ignorant to the sound of soft footfalls creeping up behind him.

“Mmmmmm,” a rumbling voice hummed, a heartbeat before a large, powerful hand clasped his barely covered backside. “Is this for me?”

Thorax squeaked and wheeled, startled by the wholly unforeseen grope, but his surprise lasted only an instant. Finding himself facing a broad, sculpted chest and abs, he swooned. He could have sworn his Daddy wasn’t going to be home for another three hours, but he wasn’t about to complain. Drifting forward, gliding his cheek between the giant’s massive pecs, he drew a breath through his nose and shivered.

Wrapping his arms around the svelte changeling, Intaba’s hand drifted down to affectionately squeeze his mate’s ample tush. “You been a good mare today?”

“Of course I have, Daddy!” Thorax chirped, craning his head to peer up at the zebra’s chin.

The zebra’s fingers crept into his lover’s tush and playfully circled the pronounced, winking, decidedly slick pucker lurking between the pair of supple buns. “No plug today?”

Shaking his head, Thorax rocked back into his stud’s palm. “Not right now, but I may have - Um…”

Intaba stepped away and withdrew, folding his arms over his chest. “You may have…?”

Thorax knew there was nothing wrong with relieving stress when he was by himself, but he still felt awkward talking about his urges. For buck’s sake, it wasn’t his fault for having developed a ravenous ass! Clutching his hands before himself, twiddling his thumbs and trying to look guiltless, he anxiously fidgeted in place. Even if he could bring himself to lie, the monumental stallion would almost certainly see through his deception - not to mention he’d feel awful for not telling the truth.

“I got lonely,” he bashfully admitted, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“What was that?” Intaba inquired, leaning forward and holding a hand to his ear.

Only hesitantly looking upward, seeing a knowing smirk on the stud’s handsome face, the changeling scrunched his snout. “I said I got lonely…”

“Baby,” the zebra sighed, “you knew I’d be home soon!” Stooping down and extending his arms, he scooped his lover up into a bridal carry. “And why so uneasy? It’s not like I could ever get mad at my little Princess!”

Peering up at the stallion, as he was carried out of the kitchen, Thorax felt his heart skip a beat. Heaven help him, he absolutely adored when the big guy called him Princess. For his entire existence, he felt like he’d been living a lie, being who people thought he should be, but that had stopped the moment the hulking hunk had come into his life. Hugging the stallion’s neck, as he was trundled into the living room, he smiled from ear to ear.

“I really am sorry,” Intaba murmured, glancing down at the shapeshifter in his arms. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

“Maybe,” Thorax mumbled, grinding his thighs together. “You should sit down and get comfy, I know you’ve had a long day.”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how strenuous the titan’s day was, but he had to play his cards carefully. He could have simply asked to be pinned down and plowed into a coma, but that would be neither ladylike nor all that respectable - sure he may have an almost crippling fondness of worshiping his beefy mate, but he didn’t have it in him to act like a complete slut. Twisting in the zebra’s grasp, only barely getting his feet on the floor, he scampered back to the kitchen.

By the time he reached the fridge and retrieved a cold drink for his lover, he’d already concocted the perfect plan. It took him no time at all to pour a glass of iced, lightly sweetened tea for the stallion, as he put his little scheme into action. If he was lucky, and he couldn’t imagine how he wouldn’t be, he’d get just what he wanted with next to no effort.

“One ice cold drink for my strapping…” he trailed off, leaving the kitchen and laying eyes on his paramour.

Reclined on the couch, his semi-rigid stallionhood gradually rising from beneath his loincloth, Intaba grinned over at him. “You got me,” he began, holding his hands up innocently, “you aren’t the only one who was lonely today.”

Thorax gulped, unable to tear his eyes off the monolithic appendage. He’d hoped to seduce the stud into getting frisky, possibly even playing hard to get, but his ploy crumbled to ash. Just by showing himself off, not even in an overtly lewd way, the stud had flipped the script and set his mouth watering. Drifting toward the sofa, setting down the perspiring glass on the coffee table, he sank to his knees in silent deference before the titan.

“Is my little Princess gonna help me with that?” Intaba mused, shooting a wink at the kneeling changeling.

Giving a small nod, staring longingly at the immense cock before him, Thorax shuffled closer. While he wasn’t one to act overly whorish in front of his mate, there was no way in Tartarus he could resist helping the zebra blow off a bit of steam. Like many times before and doubtlessly many times to come, his muzzle drifting to the stud’s package, he drew a breath and flooded his sinuses with his mate’s heady musk.

Intaba smelled incredible, but his package - powers above, the aroma of his package was ambrosial. With trembling hands, he reverently fondled the plump balls hanging from the sofa. Each ripe orb was nearly the size of a grapefruit and easily able to knock up a mare several times over, but their contents were for him and him alone. Though the zebra could have easily claimed a small harem for himself, his interests lay with one changeling and one changeling only - him.

“Daddy…” he groaned, dragging his tongue up the weighty nuts and to the meaty folds of his lover’s sheath.

He would have been happy enough just to fawn over the stallion’s endowment, yet he got much more than that. Leaning forward and reaching out, Intaba lovingly stroked his cheek. Though he may have been a reformed changeling, no longer needing to feed off the love of others, his instincts had allowed him to realize something early in their relationship; the zebra didn’t merely pretend to care for him - no, the passion and fondness for him was as blatant and ineffable as the blazing sun in the midday sky.

His head spun, clouded by lust and the ethereal romantic energy permeating from the stud, as he kissed his way to the crown of his mate’s length. There had been a time when he’d struggled to suck the zebra off, gagging and sputtering around the girthy stallionhood, but that time had passed. Without any hesitation whatsoever, he wrapped his lips around the blunt tip of cock-meat, closed his eyes, and started bobbing his head.

Intaba’s hand shifted to one of his antlers, guiding his movements, as he contentedly groaned. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t let me shower first.”

The remark nearly made Thorax withdraw and give a modest rebuttal - almost. Though he hadn’t openly admitted it, It was a poorly kept secret of his that he adored the smell and taste of fresh sweat on his paramour. Softly twisting his head, he gave a muffled moan while he lavished the sensitive underside of the stud’s length with his tongue. If he’d known things were going to take such a lustful turn, he would have had a plug or dildo filling his rump for the occasion - alas, that wasn’t the case.

As he hungrily mopped Intaba’s shaft, stroking the base of his mate’s length with his right hand, he surreptitiously reached behind himself to finger his ass - at least he tried to. No sooner did he move his arm than the stud pulled his head back, freeing his snout with a soft pop. His eyes flew open, peering up at the zebra with concern, fearing he may have done something to upset his lover, but that wasn’t the case. Smiling broadly down upon him, his eyes full of sympathetic kindness, the stallion released him and offered his hand.

“Since we’re both a little worked up,” the stud chuckled, tenderly helping the changeling to his feet, “how about my little Princess has a seat on her throne.” Flexing his cock as he finished speaking, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions, he draped his arms on the back of the sofa.

“B…but I just started,” Thorax replied, glancing from the stud’s face to the throbbing, saliva slickened length.

His smile never wavering, Intaba gave a small shrug. “If you insist on sucking me off, you can do it later - for now, I just want to hold you,” he muttered. As the drone turned and took a small step back, he extended an arm to stop the changeling. “No, I want to face you.”

Thorax stopped dead and peered over his shoulder. He’d been mere moments from fucking himself on the zebra, yet he’d just been given a golden opportunity. Spinning on a heel, as giddy as a filly on prom night, he swung a leg forward and rested his knee beside the stud’s hip. He should have known his lover would want to face him while they did it, but his eagerness had gotten the better of him.

“There we go,” the giant breathed, as his mate straddled him, “just like that.”

Seated on the striped behemoth’s thighs, he looked down his chest at the gargantuan stallionhood resting against his abdomen. He could hardly believe he was able to accommodate something so insanely huge, nearly as big as his arm, but the contrast of the obscenely huge appendage against his chastity cage made the moment all the more surreal. It was moments like these, seeing how vastly superior the stallion was to himself, that reminded him why he called his pathetic endowment a clit.

Reaching down and endearingly fondling his meager package, gathering up a drop of pre-cum on his finger, Intaba snickered. “I must be doing something right for you to be this wet - haven’t seen you leaking this much in a while.”

“It’s because I love you, Daddy,” Thorax admitted, placing his hands on the hunk’s shoulders.

“Oh?” the zebra countered, quirking a brow. “And what do you love about me?”

“Everything,” Thorax sighed, pulling himself forward and sandwiching the hot, pulsing cock between them. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I hope you never, ever leave.”

“Babe,” Intaba whispered, hooking a thick digit under the changeling’s chin, “don’t talk like that. If anything, I don’t deserve you!” Lowering his muzzle, he pecked his mate’s collar. “You’re the cutest - Mwah - kindest - Mwah - most amazing little love bug I’ve ever met - heck maybe the best in the whole world, and not a day goes by that I don’t thank the spirits for having you.”

The sweet talk alone pushed Thorax to the brink, making his backdoor angrily seize. He wasn’t normally one to take the lead, much too bashful to be assertive, but even he had his limits. Raising his waist and pushing himself up, feeling the stallionhood slide down his crotch and to the cleft of his rump, he angled his hips forward and got into position. As his pucker kissed the head of his mate’s sublimely warm cock, he was brought to a halt by a pair of hands clasping his backside.

“If you don’t mind,” the zebra began, lifting him up and spinning him to the side, “allow me…”

With a gentleness belying his strength and size, he repositioned the shapeshifter into a close approximation of a princess carry. It was always amazing as it was to be moved about as though he weighed nothing, and this time was no less thrilling. With one arm under his knees, and another behind his shoulders, he was slowly lowered onto the towering stallionhood under him.

“W..wait,” he bleated, causing the stud to slow, “can you kiss me when you put it in?”

It was a foolish request, self-indulgent and serving little purpose, yet he couldn’t help himself. Smiling fondly at him, holding him steady, the stud closed his eyes and drifted his muzzle closer. Since the zebras had flowed into Equestria, he’d heard all sorts of wild, unbelievable tales about how domineering and haughty the striped equines could be - even if those stories were true, his mate couldn’t be more benevolent and caring. With his hands around the stallion’s neck, he craned his neck, locked lips with his lover, and was gradually impaled.

The sensation of something so unbelievably huge sliding into him, stretching his needy hole and worming into his depths, was indescribable and he doubted it would ever get old, but that wasn’t the best part - the best part was being completely immobilized by his burly mate. Held in place, slowly feeling his insides be rearranged by the utterly insane intrusion, it was all he could do to hotly make out with the stud. Feeling the exquisitely girth medial ring slip into him, he whimpered into the stallion’s muzzle.

With an approving grunt, Intaba shifted his hand upward, grabbed his antler, and pulled his head backward; while it wasn’t a particularly forceful move, it further cemented how inadequate he was as a stallion. For all intents and purposes, he was a male in name alone, practically a housewife for his mate, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d always been a bit submissive, but it wasn’t until he’d met the powerful stud did he learn to love himself for who and what he was - a bottom bitch.

Seconds passed, before Intaba had fully sheathed himself into his sylphlike mate. With the entirety of his length buried in the changeling’s snug confines, he broke their kiss and peered into Thorax’s eyes. “Gods, you’re so hot like this…”

Thorax’s jaw worked uselessly, a bead of drool creeping down his chin, as redness entered into his cheeks. Somehow, even though he was sheathing nearly a foot of dick, the compliment hit him like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t used to being flattered by anyone, let alone in such a compromising position, so the praise left him at a loss - fortunately, the colossus knew just what to do.

Using him like a sex toy, Intaba lifted and lowered him with ease. A part of him wished he’d been free, if only so he could reciprocate his lover’s affection, but another, deep-seated portion of himself adored being unable to move. The helplessness of it all, of being controlled, was electrifying and only served to elevate the experience. Clenching his hole on the upstrokes, while relaxing as he plunged downward, he did what he could to pleasure the giant.

It was hard to pick his favorite thing about being a changeling, yet the empathic ability to share emotional energy was easily one of the best. The bliss he felt was magnified by the pleasure and happiness of his lover, bringing him into a euphoric state of nirvana. He couldn’t have been more lucky with meeting Intaba, and he thanked the heavens that they’d become more than just friends.

His slavering cage dripped pre-cum down his comparably minuscule balls and onto the thick stallionhood pounding into him, as he reached for his chest. He really didn’t mind having his clit locked away - heck, it wasn’t like he’d ever gotten much use out of his colthood anyway, yet the denial of being chaste was more fantastic than he ever would have guessed. Forced to rely on less conventional means to get off, coupled with his latent empathic abilities, his body had gradually acclimated to his subservient role.

“Allow me,” the zebra intoned, leaning in and wrapping his lips around the changeling’s right nipple.

Thorax’s stuffed entrance quivered, as he was driven closer to his limit. “D…Daddy, you know how - Mmmmah - sensitive they are!”

Intaba peeked up at him, only pulling away once he’d gently nibbled on the sensitive bud of flesh. “Just imagine how sensitive they’d be if I sired my foals with you.”

“W…what?” Thorax croaked.

“I know it’s silly, but I would definitely make you a mother if I could. Imagining you walking around carrying my foal, your little breasts full of milk - a happy, loving wife who’s ready to have a family,” Intaba huffed, plowing into the drone with increasing speed.

It would have been impossible for the stud to know about Thorax’s fantasies, yet the stallion had somehow, be it from luck or intuition, done just that. His thoughts ran absolutely wild, picturing himself gravid and lactating for an impending colt or filly. It may have been strange, bordering on the absurd, but he’d found himself daydreaming about becoming a mother for several weeks - a fact that his body had subconsciously responded to.

Though shapeshifting was almost entirely a conscious process, he’d gone through several subtle changes since Intaba had moved in. His chest, once flat as a board, sported a pair of modest bosoms, while his hips, tush, and thighs had filled out considerably. By the time he’d noticed how much he’d changed, he could have passed for a different changeling entirely - not like that was a bad thing. If his stallion was happy with the way he looked, which he very much was, he was more than content to stay the way he was.

Lightly twisting and pulling his nipples, spurred on by the idea of being knocked up, he swallowed hard. “H…harder, Daddy…”

Flashing a wolfish grin at the request, the zebra slowed. “My little Princess wants to be bred?”

Pursing his lips, Thorax averted his gaze. It was one thing to privately dwell on something fetishishtic, yet he wasn’t nearly bold enough to express his more taboo cravings. As his mate’s motions stopped dead, leaving him motionless, he clamped his eyes shut. If there was one shortcoming of Intaba’s, it was that the titan expected answers for his questions - no matter how asinine or trite.

“Yes, Daddy,” he reluctantly replied, stroking the colossus’ bicep.

“Good,” Intaba growled, instantly falling back into his steady rhythm, “because I won’t stop until you’re carrying my foal.”

With that assertion, he shot forward and delicately bit down on the drone’s nipple. The sliver of pain, combined with the unimaginable bliss of being used and the vehemence of the zebra’s words, nearly did him in. Wrapping his arms around the giant’s neck, doing what he could to add something to the moment, he feverishly milked the stud’s length.

The revelation that Intaba’s desires ran parallel with his own triggered something deep within him, heightening his rapture and sending hormones surging through his system. Mewling with every thrust, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. One of the first things he’d learned about the stud, aside from how charming and attractive he was, was that Intaba had a way of getting what he wanted - even if what he wanted seemed impossible.

A sensation of wetness moving down his chest, paired with an approving snort from the zebra, drew his eyes downward. He’d seen and experienced all manner of things in his life, from the liberation of the hives to saving the world with his friends, yet nothing could have prepared him for what he saw; as unimaginable as it was, a weak stream of milk flowed from his freed teat. He hadn’t tried to start lactating, yet his body had done what it was supposed to do - make their dream a reality.

“Yes,” he brayed, clutching his mate’s head to his bosom, “make me a mommy! I want to have your foals!”

Intaba was more than gracious, flying into a frenzy and rutting him like a machine. Overwhelmed on a physical, emotional, and spiritual level, he came in the blink of an eye, his impotent jizz dribbling onto the gargantuan length pistoning into him. It was a heavenly and cathartic climax, though it was only a portent of what was to come. Unable to think, only barely able to move, his sense of time grew tenuous.

He may have been getting fucked for fewer than seconds or longer than years - in truth, he couldn’t say - but the end result was the same. The sensation of Intaba’s wildly pulsing length, the feeling of the stallion flaring deep within him, and the labored grunts and frantic movements told him everything he needed to know. Even if he and his lover could only pretend to start a family, that fantasy would serve as a welcome element to their lives for the rest of their days.

Intaba slammed Thorax downward, hilting himself completely, as his head shot forward. There was no primal howl, no victorious roar to the heavens - he simply locked hips with his little mate and came in relative silence. A tsunami of scalding, virile seed flowed through his throbbing shaft and into the quivering, groaning drone, while they climaxed one right after the other.

Despite having just endured an astonishing orgasm, the influx of jizz pumping into Thorax was too much to bear. Flashes of himself as Intaba’s broodmare, heavy with foal and overjoyed to expand his hive, wrought exhilarated havoc on his mind. What little cum he had left, if the thin, impotent substance could even be called such, flowed from his cage to mingle with the thick essence seeping from his trembling backdoor.

He didn’t have to look to know his gut was distending, bloated with the impossibly rich foal-batter of his stud, as he rode out his second climax. Ecstasy was a word, something mortals used to describe a sensation, yet it paled in comparison to the feeling coursing through him. With his limbs growing slack, struggling to remain conscious, the stallion pulled away and held him.

“Promise me you’ll stay by my side forever…” Intaba’s voice was so faint that he may not have said it at all.

“I will,” Thorax breathed, “as long as you’ll have me…”

He couldn’t speak for others, but inviting the Zebricans to his homeland had been the best decision he’d ever made. With the potent high of his climax subsiding, gradually replaced by a euphoric warmth, he thought of his fellow changelings. Growing numbers of his fellow shapeshifters had taken striped lovers of their own, but there was one in particular he often found himself wondering about…

Pharynx

“Yeah,” Pharynx groaned, “I bet you studs would love to be fucking this boy-pussy - unless you’re one of those sissies who wishes you could milk a dick like this.”

Leaning back and extending his arms behind himself, he propped himself up and let the camera get a good view of his stuffed hole. Unlike a great many of Equestria’s stallions who sheepishly fantasized and masturbated to being a fuck-toy for Zebrican studs, he had no qualms about showing off. With an inverted chastity device forcing his clit into his groin, adorned in little more than striped leggings, arm warmers, and a tube-top emblazoned with the words Zeebs Only, he rode his favorite, oversized dildo for his adoring fans.

Peeking down his chest and to the monitor, seeing the endless stream of complements and tips flooding the chat, he gnawed his bottom lip. “Fuck - you guys think I should get a permanent womb tattoo?” he snickered, exerting his metamorphic ability to make a stylized heart with wing traceries appear on his lower abdomen.

He’d given some serious thought to getting an actual tattoo, but there was no real need. Considering he routinely went out wearing next to nothing, not to mention his regular and supremely scandalous online displays, it was no secret that he was a total slut for zebras. While he couldn’t speak for every femcolt who’d submitted to their urges, he was completely comfortable with advertising his support of Zebrican stallions’ superiority.

One of the best things about being a changeling was that he could enhance his look with but a thought. Plump lips, a fat ass, makeup, faux tattoos, and body writing were typical, though the specifics often varied. More often that not, he’d strut about the hive looking like a highly feminized twink, openly flirting with strapping studs while making lesser beta-boys jealous of his prowess, but he could and occasionally would mix it up - specifically the womb design he’d taken to manifesting above his groin.

Though the embellishment wasn’t fully captured in the stream, his viewers went positively wild. The very generous donations and adulation he was showered with were nice, but it was the thrill of exposing himself that kept him producing content. The thought of various inferior stallions wantonly screwing themselves with toys, while alpha studs stroked their imposing stallionhoods to him, never failed to fuel his lustful fire.

“Oh gods,” he sighed, clenching his ass and causing a rope of pre-cum to squirt from his cage. “I wish I had a real cock right -”

“Honey?”

The distant, deep voice brought him to a screeching halt, as he twisted his head and peeked at the doorway. Insika, the absolute mountain of a stud he’d managed to bag for himself, was supposed to be at a buckball game for another few hours - for fuck’s sake, the only reason he’d broke out one of his biggest dildoes and his webcam was because the brute was going to be out for a bit. With several pounds of sculpted silicone in his ass, and nearly two hundred spectators on his stream, an idea struck him like a bolt from the blue.

Leaping to his feet, he unsheathed the massive dong, kicked the toy under the bed, and snatched up his camera and laptop. Judging from the sound of approaching footfalls moving steadily toward his room, he’d only have a minute or so to lay his hastily concocted trap. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, he sat the computer on his dresser, angled the cam at his bed, then leapt up and onto the ceiling. He may have been reformed, but he’d be damned if he still didn’t have a use for ambush training.

Seeing a hand push the door open, he held his breath and remained motionless. Stepping into the room, roughly a half-dozen paces a way, appeared Insika. Pushing eight feet tall, built like a beefy, well-hung, adonic tank, his mate was an angel made manifest - nevertheless, he wasn’t perfect. Though the stud was physically huge and imposing, rocking a bitch-breaker that would put any pony’s dick to shame, he was a bit of a pushover.

Pharynx smirked and drew his forked tongue over his pouting lips, hoping the stallion wouldn’t notice the strand of pre-cum dangling from his cage. He may have been less than half the zebra’s size, but what he lacked in stature and muscle he made up for in zeal and raw, unabashed lust. The feminine aesthetic he’d adopted was a ruse, a ploy to lure unassuming tops to him, which suited his purposes just fine.

Waiting until the ignorant stallion was directly beneath him, he struck. He couldn’t say if he genuinely loved Insika, but the big lug’s relative innocence, hot looks, and godly cock had definitely grown on him over the months they’d been living together. Silently behind the unaware studmuffin, he tapped the zebra’s shoulder.

“Over here, lover,” he purred.

Insika started and turned, before he was shoved off balance. Stumbling back, his arms pinwheeling, he landed atop the mattress with a resounding Pomf. “H…hey, Honey…”

“Hey, Stud,” Pharynx hissed, shamelessly grabbing and fondling the supine zebra’s meaty, cum-loaded balls, “I see you brought me back some dinner.” Getting a hand or mouthful of stallion meat was an easy affair, considering his mate rarely wore anything but a loincloth, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it.

“I…I - uh -” Insika sputtered, trying and failing not to stare at the changeling’s drooling chastity cage. “I forgot my jacket.”

“Oh you forgot more than that,” the drone continued, crawling up the stud’s body. Coming to a rest and kneeling over his mate’s head, he reached back, spread his cheeks, and flaunted his slack, slick hole. “I forgot to give you dinner before you left, my Love…”

He’d known since day one that Insika wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, nor all that assertive, but those were hardly deal-breakers. The chief things he looked for in a partner were a massive cock, an amazing build, and a willingness to flood his guts with as much jizz as he could handle - all traits his mate had in spades. Glancing over his shoulder, seeing the immense, coal-black length rise between the stallion's legs, he threw his weight downward and ground his tush against Insika’s muzzle.

“Mmmmm -” he loudly hummed, doing his damnedest to sheath the stallion’s snout in his behind, “eat up, big boy.”

Subjugating someone who was exponentially more powerful than himself was an intoxicating affair - one made all the more heady by the fact that hundreds of viewers were likely getting off to the sight. It didn’t matter that his pathetic clit was forced in by the cage - he didn’t care that there were those who thought less of him for discarding his once cherished masculinity - the only thing he gave a damn about was being baddest, most intimidating cum-dumpster Equestria had ever seen. Igniting his horn, he bucked his hips and levitated the wireless camera into his outstretched hand.

“You pony bitches jealous?” he giggled, leaning forward and bringing the camera to Insika’s face. “Just wait until this absolute bull breeds me like the broodmare you wish you were.”

Insika’s eye flew open and peered into the cam’s lens, as he went rigid. “Mmmph?!?”

“That’s right,” Pharynx snickered, “you’re not leaving until you plow my ass and leave me looking like a used condom.”

Making his pucker just a touch more pliable than usual, he wiggled his hips and slipped the stallion’s muzzle into his ass. It would have been nice to have his impromptu co-star being a bit more compliant, possibly making out with his rump, but that wasn’t a huge concern. If the stud was too startled to take an active role, he’d gleefully pick up the slack for their little performance.

Hovering the camera behind himself, glancing over at the monitor to ensure the shot was decent, he grabbed his nipples and pulled. Even before the influx of zebras had come to the hive, he’d been a bit of a masochist. Biting, choking, and scratching were a must for any bedroom hijinks, but his cage - sweet, merciful Chrysalis, his cage was the best investment he’d ever made. The persistent discomfort of the unyielding steel locked to his groin, having long since ensured his colthood was permanently flaccid and limp, was a badge of honor and a constant reminder that he had one purpose and one purpose alone - despoiling the biggest stallions he could come across.

As fun as it would be to stay where he was, that would be impossible; Insika might have been a literal powerhouse, but he still needed to breathe. Sure enough, after a handful of seconds passed, the stallion patted his thigh and mutely asked him to relent. Though his approach to amorous affairs was crass and excessively direct, he wasn’t a complete asshole - as such, he flexed his legs, lifted his waist, and freed the zebra’s muzzle from his backside. To the few uninitiated viewers watching, the move may have been taken as an act of mercy, but he was far from finished with his big-dicked lover.

Cheerfully humming to himself, overshadowing the stud’s soft gasps, he turned in place and faced Insika’s groin. The diamond-hard, fully erect stallionhood standing at his mate’s groin, leaking pre-cum in the cool air, affirmed what he already knew. The zebra may have been taken off guard by the carnal assault, but his body betrayed him - after all, you can’t fake an erection.

“Hey,” he softly began, draping himself over his lover’s chest and sculpted abs, “how about you warm me up while I choke on that fat cock of yours.”

The remark was more of a statement than a request, but he enticingly swayed his hips just to hammer the point home. As a pair of strong, calloused fingers grabbed his waist, feeling hot breath upon his entrance, he turned his attention to the towering stallionhood mere inches from his face. While he preferred to be on his knees to suck someone off, or being laid down to get his face fucked, the sixty-nine was far from the worst thing in the world - not for the least of which reasons being the audience in his stream.

Moving with glacial speed, he made a show of kissing his way up Insika’s shaft while his rump was reluctantly feasted upon. The big guy was too cute, almost sheepish most of the time, but only to an extent. Like most creatures, the zebra had a breaking point, a limit to what he could endure, and he had every intention of pushing the gentle giant over that line.

As Pharynx reached the blunt tip of cock, he opened his jaw, extended his tongue, and plunged downward. Insika groaned and tightened his grip, his rim-job faltering, while his shaft was practically inhaled. The contrast of their sizes was only exacerbated by the disparity of their passion, making for quite the compelling scene. Though the changeling was downright tiny compared to the stud, his tenacity more than made up for his lack of bulk.

“Y…you don’t have to be so - Nnnnf!” Insika grunted, his remark only fanning the shapeshifter’s lust.

Pharynx would have said something condescending, had his throat not been positively stuffed. His neck bulged, tears streamed down his face, and he fiercely stroked the root of his mate’s tool, yet his motions only grew more savage. It wasn’t the first time he’d swabbed his esophagus with a thick slab of zebra meat, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. Bobbing his head and working the girthy medial ring past his lips, he screwed his eyes shut.

Even if he wasn’t really struggling, there was nothing wrong with acting like he was having a hard time. It was a well known fact that most pornographic connoisseurs preferred bottoms who took a submissive or timid role, bashfully being used or made love to, but he couldn’t bring himself to play a pushover - having said that, giving the illusion of some difficulty on his behalf served as a mitigating factor. Squeezing his hand and milking a sizable amount of pre-cum through the stud’s length, he withdrew and worked a mouthful of the thick, salty stuff into his snout.

The second Insika’s cock-head cleared his airway, he broke into a coughing fit - it was fake as hell, sure, but that was the point. Strands of pre and thick ropes of saliva hung from his chin, connecting him to the obscene appendage, before he wiped his face. If the camera had captured the moment as he’d hoped, he knew he’d just made the perfect thumbnail for his video. Raising his hips and swinging a leg over the stallion’s face, seeing the zebra looking at him with concern, he faltered.

He had been about to hop up and mount the stud in a cowgirl position, yet he hesitated. Forcing himself not to roll his eyes, hedging his bets, he flopped to his side and onto his back, grabbed his ankles, and spread his legs. There was a strong argument to be made for riding the overly affectionate bastard, but there were few things better than being pinned down and rutted.

“Really?” Insika huffed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. “We’re seriously doing this?”

“What’s wrong?” Pharynx cooed, peering up at the colossus. “You don’t want to pin me to the bed and fuck my brains out?”

Despite his rigid cock, the zebra shrugged. “But I’ll be late for the game…”

Maintaining his sultry smile, Pharynx beckoned the stallion closer. The last thing he wanted was to disrupt the show, so he fell back to a tried, true, and somewhat questionable tactic. A tense moment passed between them, before the stud leaned forward and brought his muzzle to the changeling’s ear.

“If you fuck the cum out of me, I’ll make that tiramisù you like so much,” Pharynx whispered, keeping his voice quiet enough to slip past the microphone.

Insika’s hands shot to his rump, a thump slipping into him, as he glanced over and made eye contact. “Tiramisù and we get to cuddle on the couch for a movie later.”

“Deal,” Pharynx hastily replied, pecking the stud’s cheek.

He was a slut by any definition, basking in his sexuality and reveling in the attention it afforded, but he wasn’t without emotional needs. Outside of their bedroom hijinks, he secretly loved simple acts like spooning, showering, or simply holding hands with his lover; it wasn’t like he’d be particularly bothered if his fans and simps found out about his softer side, but he had an image to uphold. Sending power into his horn, pulling a pillow from beneath the headboard and stuffing it under his tush, lifting his lower half just enough so Insika wouldn’t have to awkwardly squat, he prepared himself for the main event.

“Alright, bitch,” the zebra growled, hauling him to the very edge of the mattress, “I hope you’re ready to have that hole ruined.”

“Hah!” Pharynx scoffed - genuinely scoffed, amused by the stud’s false bravado. “Like you’d ever break - Oh fuck!”

He was cut off, as Insika hilted him in a single, brutal thrust. Apparently the promise of a dessert and a movie was a better motivator than he remembered, or perhaps the stallion was more excited than he’d assumed - whatever the case, he was given no time to acclimate to having his ass filled. With no warning whatsoever, reeling from a wave of pleasure, he was unprepared when his mate started mercilessly screwing him.

His body lurched forward and back, his cage leaked like a broken faucet, and his eyes rolled wildly, as he was beset by rapture. Seizing the reins and taking charge in the bedroom was fun as hell, yet being topped by an eager stallion was an unbeatable experience. As he lifted his head and gazed down at his belly, knowing full well what he was going to find, he spied the imprint of Insika’s cock pounding into him.

“You’re so - Aaaaahn - fucking big,” he groaned, releasing his ankles and locking his legs around the stud’s hips.

“Only for you, babe,” Insika responded, “b…but don’t think for a second you’re not my whore!”

Pharynx’s eyes widened in shock, taken aback by the assertion. He knew the zebra had to be fucking with him - he had to be; there was no way his warmhearted lover would suddenly become a total bad boy! Resting a hand atop the swell in his abdomen, stroking the pistoning shaft through his skin, he scanned the stud’s face.

“Say it ~” Insika insisted, “say you’re my whore!”

Stars above, he’d been about to debase himself and acquiesce, seduced by the prospect of being dominated by his mate, but then he saw it - the not-so-subtle wink the zebra gave. Though it was equal parts terrifying and mystifying to comprehend the stallion was putting on an act, raising several questions, he didn’t break character. As he flexed his legs and pulled his lover deeper, his lips curled in a wolfish grin.

“Make me…”

In the blink of an eye, only slowing for an instant, Insika grabbed his calves, bent at the waist, and drove his legs upward. He’d fully expected for things to ramp up slightly, potentially getting railed a bit harder or faster, yet he was unprepared to be contorted into a mating press. With his knees to either side of his chest, and his ankles beside his head, he was given the punishment he’d yearned for.

“You - Unf - always act like you’re hot shit,” Insika grunted, using his strength and his body weight to devastating effect. “But I’m going to plow all that defiance out of you until you’re a drooling, cum-drunk, obedient little cock-sleeve.”

Pharynx squirmed and whimpered in place, unable to move. It would have been incredible enough to be screwed so forcefully, but the dirty talk was the hot, sticky icing on the cake! Where was all this coming from? Had Insika been holding out on him? Why hadn’t the stud been this commanding and rough before now? A thousand different questions flitted through his mind, though they were quickly washed away by the onslaught of pleasure. Gritting his teeth, his act threatening to fall to pieces, he had to fight to compose himself.

“You wish!” he cackled, constricting his well-trained pucker around the massive stallionhood. “You might be bad, but I’m worse than you’ll ever be!”

“Hmmmph,” the zebra snorted. “We’ll see about that…”

His head shot forward and his tongue plunged into the defiant changeling’s mouth, while he increased his pace. The bed creaked beneath them, his frame threatening to give, as the sounds of slapping flesh and muffled moans filled the air. It would be easy for anyone witnessing the scene to misconstrue it as violent, bordering on abusive, yet that was far from the actual case.

Closing his eyes, Pharynx forgot about the camera and fixated on the wondrous sensations his lover afforded. The weighty balls slapping against his ass, the huge cock stretching his depths, the thick tongue in his muzzle - each and every part of the experience was beyond reproach, but there was one that sailed above the rest. No matter the precise reason, Insika had pulled out all the stops and was screwing him into oblivion to make him happy.

His fingers weakly pawed at the stallion’s biceps, as he inched closer and closer to the edge. It didn’t help much that he’d been playing with his ass and edging for nearly half an hour prior to his mate’s appearance, so the sudden, extremely fervid mating press quickly became too much to bear. Trembling from head to toe, unable to control himself, he reached his limit in spectacular fashion.

Howling into his lover’s snout, he painted his bulging tummy with watery seed. It had been ages since he’d gotten off to anything but having his prostate crushed, which was only one of the reasons he’d acquired and installed progressively smaller chastity devices on himself. The sensation of being forced to climax simply couldn’t be beat, and he’d effectively cemented it would be the only way he could orgasm for the rest of his life.

Insika paused and pulled back, breaking their kiss. “You ok for more?” he breathed, prompting a swift, albeit weak nod from the shapeshifter. “Pathetic,” he loudly laughed, straightening up to his full height and releasing the drone’s legs. “I should have known you wouldn’t last long, but I expected more from you.”

“F…fuck - Cough - you,” Pharynx rasped, sneering upward.

If he’d had the slightest idea that Insika was such a skilled thespian, he would have demanded such hard service in the past, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. Making a mental note to grill the stallion on the subject later, too preoccupied with the thought of getting bred, he definitely pushed himself up on one arm. He didn’t have the slightest clue what the stud was planning, especially given the sudden shift in attitude, so he knit his brow and testily waited for whatever was to come next.

“Still got some fight in you ~ huh?” Insika mused, smirking down at the petulant insect. “Since you can still move,” he continued, stepping over and seating himself beside the changeling, “how about you earn my cum.”

As the stud slid onto the middle of the bed next to him, Pharynx’s eyes settled on his lover’s long, dark stallionhood. His limbs felt as though they were made of lead, he was lightheaded from his climax, and his battered hole was already tender, yet his determination and insatiable drive to subdue the behemoth overshadowed his feebleness. Getting onto his knees, he swung a leg over the giant’s waist, reached between his thighs, and guided the monolithic cock to his gaped pucker. If Insika thought he didn’t have the strength to fuck himself, the big lug was dead wrong.

Steadily descending, he lowered his head and watched the swell of stallionhood creep up his torso and come to a rest just beneath his rib cage. Fuck if he knew how anyone was able to accommodate something so big - hell, he didn’t understand how or why it felt so damned good, but he loved it all the same. As he sensed his mate shift, feeling a pair of thighs behind him to act as a backrest, he rested his hands on Insika’s knees and began riding the zebra like a depraved cowgirl.

“Mmmmph Mmmmph Mmmmph,” he rhythmically groaned, bouncing in place and hammering his ass on the stallion’s groin.

Insika pushed an elbow into the bed, as he extended an arm and twisted the drone’s left nipple. “Work my cock, Mare - that’s the only thing a locked little sissy bitch like you is good for.”

The remark sent a thrilled shiver up Pharynx’s spine and hastened his pace. Yeah, there was no doubt about it - something had gotten into Insika, but he could worry about that after he’d wrung every drop of cum out of the guy. Clenching his hole on the upstrokes, while relaxing on the descents, he steadily worked himself into a frenzy. Tired though he was, his ravenous lust turned him into a machine.

He could have spent an eternity fucking himself on the stud - sadly, like all good things in life, it came to an all too abrupt end. The stallionhood swelled within him, pulsing in tune with the titan’s thundering heart, as its head began to swell. As acquainted as he was with his lover, he recognized the signs instantly - Insika was about to blow. In that instant, wishing for nothing more than to deliver a phenomenal finale for the zebra and his followers, he flew into an absolute frenzy.

“C…cum for me!” he wailed, throwing his head back. “Make me your mare!!!”

The timing of Pharynx’s whorish plea couldn’t have been better, as Insika peaked mere moments afterwards. Grabbing his hips and bucking upward, hilting himself, he held the changeling in place and unleashed a torrent of foal-batter from his heavy balls. His masculine grunts and growls clashed wondrously with the svelte drone’s feminine braying, coalescing in a cacophonous, perverse crescendo. With their bodies growing still, save for Pharynx’s steadily growing, cum-bloated belly, they heaved air into their lungs and stared at one another.

“Gods, I love you…” Insika affectionately rasped, reaching up to caress the shapeshifter’s cheek.

Positively glowing, his cheeks going a brilliant crimson, Pharynx closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to his mate’s hand. “I love you -” he stopped dead, only then remembering they had an audience. Awkwardly leaning over and grabbing a pillow, he lobbed the cushion to the side and knocked both the camera and laptop to the floor. Only when he was sure they were no longer in frame, he leaned forward and pecked the zebra’s snout. “I love you too, but where’d all that come from?”

“What?” Insika croaked, lifting a brow. “The rough stuff?”

Pharynx nodded, savoring the warmth of the load sloshing around in his depths. “Yeah.”

The stud softly snickered and dismissively waved a hand. “You act like I don’t watch your videos when you’re not around. It’s not like I ever intended to be part of one, but the thought had crossed my mind.”

“I…Gods, you’re an idiot,” Pharynx flatly remarked, trying not to giggle.

“But I’m your idiot,” Insika sighed, pulling the drone into an embrace.

It was a rare moment of sweetness between them, similar to those which usually happened prior to or shortly after sleeping, yet therein lay the magic. The sweet complimented the spicy, the harsh with the soft, and so their relationship was made all the stronger by such exchanges. Though their personalities and looks differed wildly, all but making them polar opposites, the age-old adage held true - opposites attracted, and their love for one another was made all the stronger for it…

Fluttershy

Fluttershy considered herself the last pony to speak up about any potential problems, but she knew had to say something. Ever since Twilight had opened the Zebrican border, allowing a seemingly endless wave of refugees to flood into Equestria, she’d been noticing changes. Many mares had begun developing preferences for the large, exotic stallions, with some having left their husbands for the striped studs, and she simply didn’t understand why.

Not only were zebras bigger, stronger, and more imposing than ponies, but they often wore next to nothing, leaving their chiseled bodies on display, and they were very assertive. Whereas most of Equestria’s native stallions would often court a mare for weeks or months before making any sort of sexual advancement, the foreigners would often bed mares they favored within days. The whole situation was confusing and a bit disconcerting, which did little to help her with the party she found herself uncomfortably attending.

Shifting awkwardly, staying well away from the thick of the activities, she crossed her arms over her considerable chest. She hadn’t wanted to turn down Twilight’s invitation, but she wasn’t sure why she’d be asked to come. The event was being held in the Canterlot castle’s ballroom and all of the guests were mares and zebra stallions, with almost all of the latter being practically naked. Adorned in little more than loin cloths or grass skirts, the hulking brutes’ packages were impossible to miss.

Sipping her drink, some oddly fruity cocktail which was apparently a Zebrican specialty, she kept her eyes glued to the floor - that was, until she heard someone calling her name. There were only a handful of partygoers there who knew her, leaving a small number who would recognize her. Lifting her head, seeing Twilight moving in her direction, she waved a hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” the Princess asked, traipsing up in a very revealing mini-skirt and tube top.

“Um - it’s ok, I guess,” Fluttershy murmured, feeling herself starting to blush.

She’d worn a simple sundress to the event, uncertain of what to expect, but her attire was easily the most modest outfit in the place. Compared to herself, most of the mares at the gathering wore skimpy outfits. Noticing a pair of figures moving up behind the scantily clad alicorn, she lifted her head and spotted two of nearly identical stallions.

“Fluttershy, I wanted to introduce you to someone - well, two someones,” Twilight giggled. Being flanked by the duo, smiling up to each in turn, she shifted her attention back to the sheepish pegasus. “These are Haki and Kushoto, they’ve heard all about you!”

Meekly peeking up at their faces, feeling herself starting to blush, Fluttershy avoided meeting their eyes. “Oh - uh - hello.”

Undeterred, the Princess stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her companion’s shoulder. “They’re twins, if you haven’t figured that out yet,” she giggled, “and they were wondering if you’d be willing to talk with them about the element of kindness.”

“K...kindness?” Fluttershy stammered, unsure of how to feel about the situation. “Twilight, I don’t think I -”

Leaning in and lowering her tone, Twilight brought her muzzle to the pegasus’ ear. “Trust me, they’re big fans of yours and neither of them hurt a fly. I know that parties can make you nervous, so I told them you speak with them in one of the guest rooms upstairs - you know, so you can all talk in private.”

Lifting a finger to protest, Fluttershy caught herself. She didn’t want to disappoint her friend, and she most certainly didn’t want to be rude to someone she’d only just met - still, privately meeting with not one but two of the giants made her slightly anxious. Steeling herself, trusting Twilight’s promise, she slowly nodded.

“Perfect! I’ll show you to the suite right away!” the alicorn merrily chirped, nearly skipping away.

Trailing behind the twins and her friend, Fluttershy’s eyes wandered over the studs’ backs. Each was over a foot taller than her, with her head coming only to their chests, and their powerful builds were as unsettling as they were impressive. Watching their muscular buns glide over one another, getting a peek at the ripe, obsidian balls hanging between their thighs, her marehood spontaneously clenched.

Though it only took a handful of minutes to reach one of the many guest chambers within the keep, the trip felt like it had taken a small eternity - an eternity which saw her getting increasingly, yet paradoxically excited. As frustrating as it was, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring the twins’ bodies and silently wondering just what they were capable of.

Moving into a vacant room, with the siblings in tow, Twilight turned to her friend. “You’ll see that they’re not that bad,” she began, clasping the blushing pegasus’ hand.

Before Fluttershy could utter a reply, the Princess skipped out, closed the door, and left her and the two stallions to their lonesome. Peering down at the carpet, absentmindedly brushing a strand of mane away from her face, her thoughts raced. The turn of events had happened so fast that she didn’t know what to say - heck, she honestly didn’t know what to do. Attempting to think of some way to break the ice, she noticed the duo shift.

“What are…” she trailed off, watching them casually undress.

The view of their backs had been splendid, but seeing their well-defined pecs and abs sent blood rushing to her cheeks. Glancing downward, spying their long, dark-fleshed stallionhoods gradually swelling in size, her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen naked guys before, having purchased a few dirty magazines in the past, but this was totally different. Her jaw hung open, and her eyes widened ever so slightly, as they lazily trotted over to her.

“Twilight said that you may be intimidated by us zebras,” Haki purred, halting just before her and slightly to her left.

Kushoto followed suit, mirroring his brother and stopping at her right. “With our bodies laid bare, perhaps you’ll see that we’re not as imposing as you think.”

Unable to speak, barely able to process what was happening, she swallowed hard. A part of her was scared, being all but trapped in a room with two of the biggest studs she’d ever laid eyes upon, but another, much more subtle part of her was thrilled by seeing their bare flesh. Peeking at their growing erections, subconsciously drawing a breath, an odd scent struck her.

A shiver ran up her spine, as she inhaled their rich, natural bouquet. Whether or not they noticed her odd reaction, seeing her tremble slightly, she couldn’t say - regardless, they stepped in and pressed themselves against her. The sensation of their soft fur, paired with the then overwhelming fragrance of their masculine musk, proved a deadly combination with disastrous results.

Her nipples stiffened, digging into the fabric of her bra, as her panties grew moistened. She’d never had that much of a libido, only musing over romantic pursuits on rare occasions, yet she was gripped by perverse thoughts. Feeling her heart beating in her chest, only vaguely aware of their hands reaching for her, the sound of a chuckle shook her from her stupor.

“Such a pretty young mare,” one intoned, sweetly caressing her cheek.

The other followed suit, hooking a finger under her chin. “But she’s hardly a fair one…”

“Fair?” she parroted, genuinely perplexed by the accusation.

“You stand before us fully dressed, while we have shown ourselves to you,” Kushoto responded, running his fingers through her mane.

“If you were as kind of a soul as Twilight said, you’d let us appreciate your body as well,” Haki added.

Moving in tandem, stepping back and away from her, the duo placed their hands on their hips and smirked down at her. Looking between them, playing with her hands, she considered her options. It was true that the siblings had undressed for her, proving that they weren’t that different from ponies, yet she hadn’t anticipated they’d ask the same from her. Seeing the handsome, expectant faces, a faltering smile graced her lips.

She’d never been a showoff, and the thought of stripping in front of anyone, let alone someone she’d only just met, had never occurred to her, yet she was inspired. For all she knew, they were simply curious about pegasi - after all, they may have never seen one before. Reluctantly deciding to return the favor, slipping the occasional peek at their packages, she dipped her head.

“O...o...only if you don’t tell anyone,” she sputtered, causing their grins to broaden.

“Of course not,” they answered in unison, each giving her a curt bow.

Nodding once, feeling slightly better about her decision, she sauntered to the bed. She’d presumed she’d be able to show herself unimpeded, much like they’d done for her, but she’d been wrong. Hearing a quartet of footfalls behind her, she looked over her shoulder and saw the duo towering over her.

Haki squatted down, nearly causing his equipment to touch the carpet, while Kushoto gingerly pinched the shoulder straps of her dress. It took her a second to figure out what they were doing, caught off guard by their unforeseen involvement, but she quickly lifted her arms. As the flowing garment was lifted up and off her frame, revealing her snow-white panties and brassière, her pulse quickened.

“So beautiful,” Haki said, running his hands up her legs and to her hips. Hooking his thumbs over the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling the article downward, he breathed hotly between her thighs. “And doubtlessly fertile too.”

“Indeed,” Kushoto agreed, deftly unclasping and removing her bra, “and so well endowed.” Slipping his hands under her arms, hefting one titanic tit in each palm, his fingers grazed her teats. “I’m sure she could feed many young foals with these.”

The sudden amorous attention left Fluttershy at a loss for words, yet she didn’t move to stop them - if anything, she yearned for them to continue. Being lavished with praise by a pair of colossi did nothing to quell her mounting arousal - a fact which both seemed intent to capitalize on. Moving as one, heedless or uncaring of her smitten state, they dialed up the intensity.

She gasped, as she was scooped off her feet and gently placed atop the mattress. For some reason, she’d been laid down across the width of the small guest bed, leaving her head hanging from one side and her rump perched on the other. Almost as an afterthought, seeing the brothers move to opposite ends of herself, she covered her chest and nethers.

“No need for such modesty,” one chuckled, grabbing her ankles and prizing her legs open.

Peering down her chest, between her mountainous bosoms, she saw him shuffle forward. She’d had every intention of asking what he was doing - that was, until a huge weight settled on her groin. Lifting her shoulders, getting a better view, she went rigid. His fully erect cock rested against her, reaching nearly her belly button, as he got into position.

“Perhaps she just wants a closer look,” the other mused from above her.

As she looked up and back at him, just as he lightly pressed a hand to her shoulder, he draped his stallionhood over her face. His musk alone was overpowering, nearly clouding her thoughts in an instant, but that wasn’t the only captivating feature. Reclining, resting her head over the edge of the mattress, she gazed at his massive, coal-black nuts. Simply staring at the pair of virile orbs made her feel weak, tickling her submissive side, and yet she pined for them. Lifting one arm, only vaguely aware of the twins moving, she reverently cradled his balls.

“Leave those be, little one. If you wish to take part, hold my hips,” Haki tutted.

“And mine as well,” Kushoto hummed.

It was only when they finished speaking, seeing the stud step back and level his cock at her muzzle, did she realize where their intentions lie. They were going to have their way with her, ruin her throat and marehood simultaneously, and do so several times over the course of the evening. She could still get away, roll from the bed and escape, yet that was the last thing on her mind. Feeling one blunt head of stallionhood kiss her entrance, while the other graced her lips, she locked her hands and ankles onto the twins’ hips.

Flexing her legs, trying and failing to spur Kushoto to proceed, she drew her tongue over the tip of Haki’s length. The taste was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before; earthy and strong, like distilled masculinity, the flavors coated her palate. Gazing down his shaft, awestruck by just how huge he was, she quietly drew the digits of one hand against his mighty tool.

To say he was well-hung would be an understatement. At somewhere near a foot long, and too big to fully wrap her fingers around, he utterly dwarfed any stallionhood she’d ever seen, not to mention touched. She had no earthly idea how she’d be able to suck him off, or if his counterpart would be able to fit within her near-virginal confines, yet she wanted - no, needed more. Adjusting herself, opening her jaw as widely as possible, she worked him into her muzzle.

The velvety soft skin surrounding the diamond-hard core of his dick was downright sinful, practically inviting her to lavish it with her tongue. Clamping her stretched lips around him, breathing his heavenly scent through her nose, she twisted her head from side to side. Even attempting to pleasure one such giant would be a herculean endeavor, and potentially undoable, yet she had to try.

Bit by bit, inch by inch, she tenderly drove his member forward to the back of her throat. Proudly humming around him, despite having only managed to fit a fraction of him into her muzzle, she sensed his brother shift. The pressure against her drooling marehood skyrocketed, feeling almost like a fist was attempting to press into her. Squirming in place, as what had to be a pair of hands settled on her tits, her momentary distraction proved fatal.

The stallion before her plunged into her gullet, plugging her throat with his impossibly thick shaft, while his sibling pressed harder and harder against her sex. Her inexplicable enthusiasm mingled with a tinge of fear, seeing Haki’s pendulous nuts grow steadily closer. Quivering, wholly unable to breathe, Kushoto’s efforts finally paid off. With a mighty thrust, holding her legs and keeping her in place, the stud sank into her.

The sensation of being filled by such a gargantuan tool was mind boggling, as or more intense than the first time she’d had sex, and yet they’d only just begun. Gagging around his length, writhing and arching her back, her eyes rolled wildly. Unfortunately for her, disregarding her plight, the pair began languidly fucking their hips.

With one stallion swabbing her throat, and the other gradually driving towards her hapless womb, she struggled to comprehend everything that was happening. Each and every one of her senses were besieged, her lungs burned, and her snatch was pushed to its limits, as they used her like their plaything. While it was true that neither was being especially rough, being remarkably gentle for their monstrous size, she simply hadn’t been prepared to endure something so staggeringly intense.

Inhaling sharply, as the stud in her muzzle pulled back just enough to give her a sip of air, she felt his fingers lightly circling her nipples. She’d always been a bit heavy chested, something the duo had already commented on, but what they couldn’t have known was that her breasts were a huge weakness for her. On the few occasions when she did get herself off, it wasn’t uncommon that she played with, or even occasionally suckled on her own teats.

“So - Mmmph- beautiful,” Kushoto affectionately remarked, continuing to lazily fuck her.

“Indeed,” his brother chirped, twisting one delicate bud between his fingers. “I feel certain that she’ll make a magnificent mother…”

Fluttershy’s heart skipped a beat, her marehood winked, and she groaned, hearing their lighthearted banter. One of her few passionate fantasies was to eventually raise a foal of her own, doting on them and showering them with all the love and affection she could afford. Caring for animals had always been a passion of hers, and it always would be, but that couldn’t rival the devotion for a child.

As the discomfort of accommodating two titanic stallionhoods began to subside, aided by the thought of being a mother, pure, unrefined carnal bliss insidiously welled up within her. Warming her core, radiating through every nerve, the pleasure growing within her was indescribable. Extending her legs, hitching her knees on the stud’s hips, she slowly started bucking up to meet his thrusts.

The zebra making use of her muzzle clearly knew what he was doing, withdrawing just when she needed to breathe, and apparently he approved of her mounting enthusiasm. Tugging on her teats, adding yet another layer of enjoyment to the experience, he incrementally increased his pace; his twin followed suit, plowing her harder and faster with each passing second, as his thumb massaged and kneaded her clit.

Pinned between the two, feeling her throat bulging while her cervix was battered, Fluttershy’s anxiety faded away to nothing, replaced by an undeniable ecstasy. It almost seemed like she was soaring towards an orgasm, but that couldn’t be possible, not so quickly; throughout her entire life, she’d never experienced anything of the sort before. Her body tensed, waves of pleasure crashed over her, and her mind went black, as she was overcome by rapture.

Practically convulsing, lewdly squirting climactic nectar from her stuffed cunt, she quivered from head to toe. Every other orgasm of her life paled in comparison to the nirvana the two studs delivered, leaving her mind all but shattered. Barely able to move, struggling to think, she was given no time to recover by her duo of lovers. Caving to her primal urges, embracing the terrifying and wondrous sensations they afforded, she savored their affection.

On and on the pair of zebras went, alternating their thrusts while their hands caressed and stroked her soft flesh. She couldn’t say how long they’d been at it, having almost immediately lost track of time, but it felt like they’d been going at it for hours. They’d all but forced her to cum several times, with each climax being as or more intense than the last, until things finally came to a head.

The brothers hips became a blur, ruthlessly plowing her face and marehood, while they started to flare. If Fluttershy could have spoken, she would have begged them to cum inside her, to bathe her interior with their essence, yet she couldn’t even breathe. Weakly cradling Haki’s balls, as she clamped her legs around Kushoto’s waist, she beseeched them with her body. As if hearing her unspoken plea, the two hilted within her, simultaneously plunging into her womb and nearly to her stomach, and reached their limit.

What felt like liters of scalding, thick seed coursed into her from both ends, filling her like nothing ever had. Cum seeped past her lips, from her nose, and from her stuffed sex, while the duo unloaded within her. She hadn’t even been close to climaxing, having just suffered through an orgasm of her own, yet the sensation of their virile foal-batter flung her into a tumultuous sea of delight. The last thing she remembered was a vision of heaven opening for her, before she lost consciousness.

When she finally awoke, groggily lifting her head, she found that the siblings had departed. She wasn’t sure where the brothers could have gone or exactly when they’d left, yet she quickly discovered that she was not alone. Seeing two figures lounging by the door, with one being nearly twice the size as the other, she only eventually realized whom she was looking at.

“T...Twi - Cough -” she croaked.

Without saying a word, the alicorn strutted over to the bed. Behind the Princess moved the hulking Zebrican ambassador she’d briefly met earlier, although that wasn’t what held Fluttershy’s attention. Both her friend and the stallion were buck naked, and her companion had a number of what appeared to be flowery markings on her abdomen. Shakily pushing herself up, shifting to her side, she only then got a better look at herself.

Her belly was positively engorged from the double-teaming she’d received. With one helping of cream in her stomach, and a second marinating within her womb, she could have easily passed for being several months pregnant. Awestruck, staring down at herself, she spotted a black mark below her navel.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Twilight noted, running her fingers over her upper crotch, “see.”

Fluttershy shifted her focus, seeing a similar, albeit substantially larger design on her friend’s groin and lower torso. Though she couldn’t explain exactly what it was, blissfully ignorant to the moans and howls of pleasure emanating from beyond the room, a timid smile graced her lips. Regardless of what was happening to her companion or herself, she knew she wanted more of it.

The giant at Twilight’s side leaned forward, drawing his fingers up her thigh and to her hyper-sensitive snatch. At his mere touch, she shivered. He, like the pair who’d serviced her earlier, was extraordinarily well equipped, bearing a stallionhood that rivaled or eclipsed Haki or Kushoto. Staring longingly at his heavenly endowment, feeling her mouth beginning to water, she licked her lips.

Leaning in, Twilight brought her muzzle to Fluttershy’s ear. “I told you they weren’t bad…”

“Y...yeah,” Fluttershy whispered, her eyes locked on the stud’s growing erection.

“Hmmm -” the Princess thoughtfully hummed, “you still don’t sound too convinced. Mkuu, perhaps you could persuade her.”

“Gladly,” the brute huffed, effortlessly grabbing the stricken pegasus’ ankles and pulling her to himself.

With her lower half hanging from the mattress, held aloft by the enormous zebra, Fluttershy reached between her legs and spread herself open for him. Though she’d had more fun than she could ever remember with the siblings, she felt positively empty after their stellar performance. As Mkuu stepped forward, grinding his monumental cock into her quivering, silken depths, she rolled her head back and moaned. Yeah, zebras weren’t that scary - they weren’t that scary at all...

Dash

As she reluctantly removed her sports bra, revealing her modestly-sized breasts, Dash sighed. She was familiar with all the goings-on in regular spas, but the new health resort had a number of regulations she wasn’t used to. For starters, anyone expecting to get a massage had to be nude - secondly and more interestingly, the staff was entirely comprised of zebras. Shimmying out of her boy-shorts and panties, setting them atop the rest of her clothes on the nearby countertop, just beside a large standing mirror, she eased herself onto the padded table.

She would have been perfectly happy going to the La-Ti-Da Spa to have the tension worked out of her muscles, but Twilight had positively raved about the newly founded resort. Having received a complimentary voucher from her friend, good for one deluxe treatment session, she figured she didn’t have anything to lose. If the place had decent service, she may visit them periodically - if not, she could always go back to using her regular haunt.

Slightly uneasy about having someone look at her nude body, she attempted to console herself. There was no way they’d let any sort of pervert work there, and they’d more than likely been desensitized to seeing naked customers, so there shouldn’t have been any real worry - still, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. As far as she knew, the only people who’d ever seen her fully exposed were a few of the Wonderbolts, since they had group showers, and the handful of lovers she’d had in the past.

Shaking her head, lying supine on the soft surface, she closed her eyes and awaited her treatment. Aside from the slight awkwardness of being in the buff, she was looking forward to a good, thorough rubdown. Being the fastest flier meant regular practice, and regular practice meant that it was rare that she wasn’t somewhat stiff and fatigued. She could have done yoga at home to alleviate the problem - then again, having an excuse to treat herself wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

It only took a minute or two before the sound of an opening door alerted her that she was not alone. Situated as she was, with her head turned away from the exit, she couldn’t see exactly whom had entered - not like it particularly mattered. Listening with one cocked ear, hearing the sound of heavy footfalls drawing nearer, she expectantly waited to hear what, if anything the employee had to say.

“Missus Dash, would you like your treatment with or without hot oil?” a deep, sonorous voice inquired.

“It’s Miss Dash,” she corrected, knitting her brow, “and, sure, I’ll try the hot oil stuff.”

“As you wish, Miss Dash,” the attendant responded.

Though she couldn’t see it, she heard a cabinet open and close to her right. Though she couldn’t be totally sure, since she hadn’t looked over at him, he sure as heck sounded like a giant. Listening to the stallion move about, wondering if he was sneaking glimpses of her behind, clamped her tail over her rear. Be darned if she was going to intentionally give him a peek between her thighs.

Staving off the temptation to turn her head and see what he looked like, the sensation of two sets of thick, powerful fingers against her back caused her to start. His hands were massive, easily gripping her trapezius muscles, and he immediately put them to work. Startled by the sudden contact, not to mention the sheer size of his grippers, she stifled a groan as his fingers sank into her flesh.

“You must relax, Miss Dash,” he purred, skillfully kneading and manipulating her upper back.

Regardless of whether or not his comment was genuine, it struck a nerve. Pursing her lips, fully intent to give him a piece of her mind, she turned her head. “Easy for you to say, you’re not…”

She fell deathly silent, finding herself at eye level with a thick, vascular obsidian length of stallionhood. Gazing in disbelief at his package, stunned by the size of his endowment, she was only eventually able to wrench her eyes off his loins and up to his face. Grinning down at her, bearing a shaggy mop of dreadlocks dangling from his face, he withdrew his hands.

“I’m not…?” he quietly pressed, lifting a brow.

Unable to concoct an excuse which wouldn’t make the situation more awkward than it already was, she slowly exhaled. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never gotten a massage like this before.”

“A traditional Zebrican massage?” he asked, prompting her to nod. “I assure you, you’ll enjoy it - that is, so long as you’re open to the experience. You must forgive me, by the way, I didn’t properly introduce myself. My name is Gusa.”

The rumble of his voice stood in stark contrast to his handsome face and friendly disposition, bringing a smile to Dash’s face - that was, until she unconsciously lowered her gaze. Seeing his bare nethers, immediately reminded that he was just as naked as herself, her cheeks darkened. Despite being flaccid, his cock looked to be the size of her forearm - no, bigger than her forearm. Grinding her thighs together, feeling blood rush to her marehood, she fought to keep her tail pinned to herself.

“Now then, just how hard would you like your massage, Dash?” he softly inquired, inching closer.

“I...I - uh - usually like it pretty hard,” she guiltily admitted, doing her level best not to eye his equipment.

Too amazed by the sight of his endowment to even consider her other senses, the aroma of his loins struck her like a gong. She’d smelled some pretty musky stallions before, especially considering the flight suits that the Wonderbolts used could be very stifling, but this was something altogether different. Her pulse increased, she drew a second breath, and her marehood grew moist, growing increasingly entranced by the zebra’s exotic and remarkably sizable package.

“Enjoying the view?” Gusa chuckled, as he meticulously worked the stress from her upper back.

Taken aback, Dash sensed her blush redouble. “Are all you zebras like this?”

“Are you referring to my stature, my endowment, or my demeanor?” he coolly countered.

She could have kicked herself for blurting the question, but it was too late then. Scrunching her snout, petulantly turning away from him, she did her best to ignore his captivating musk. Her growing arousal blended with her frustration, practically demanding she say something. Shifting slightly, she turned one eye up at him and glowered.

“I’ve seen bigger…” she muttered.

Even if it was a lie, she wasn’t about to let him have the final word on the matter. Praying he wouldn’t persist, hearing his snicker trail off, she made herself comfortable and focused on what she was meant to do - relax. Making a concerted effort to fixate on his hands, and the wondrous sensations they afforded, she felt the warm oil seeping through her coat and to her skin.

Though it took a bit of effort on her behalf, she was eventually able to shake the lecherous thoughts from her mind and enjoy herself. As her libido gradually cooled, an all-consuming contentment settled over her. To his credit, Gusa definitely knew what he was doing. Skillfully massaging his way down her back, moving around her to include both her arms, he only stopped once he’d inched his way down her legs and to her ankles.

As he withdrew his hands, he stepped back and gave her calf a little pat. “If you’d be so kind as to turn over, I’ll start on your other side.”

Over all the times Dash had been to spas, she’d never once had a therapist offer to massage her chest. Though it was a tempting offer, considering how exquisitely good he was at his work, she was reluctant to show off her bare breasts and marehood to him. Pushing herself up slightly, going to look back at him, she got a glimpse of her reflection and froze.

“What the…” she whispered, noticing what appeared to be black bands tracing her torso, limbs, and face.

Completely ignoring the stallion idling by the door, she awkwardly shimmied off the table, got to her feet, and faced her reflection. As inexplicable as it was, her entire body was covered in dark stripes - not only that, but she looked a bit larger than she had mere minutes ago. Blinking rapidly, with her jaw hanging open in disbelief, she cupped her bosoms in her hands.

She’d never had that large of a chest, sporting modest A cup tits, but her breasts had filled out to Cs or possibly even Ds. Turning in place, getting a better look at herself, she swiftly discovered that her entire figure had changed dramatically. Her hips were fuller, her tush more plump, and the definition in her arms and legs had softened to a degree. Feeling herself up, wondering if she was somehow in a dream, the colossal stallion stepped behind her.

“You were quite beautiful before,” he purred, caressing her arm, “but now you are simply perfect.”

Speechless, watching his hands wander over her shoulder and to her rack, she felt something long, hard, and extraordinarily huge press against her tush. Looking up at him, seeing him lowering his muzzle towards her, she nearly swooned. None of the situation made sense, from the beautiful giant and his gargantuan stallionhood to her inexplicable transformation, but she was mesmerized and wanted more. As his fingers glided down her abdomen and to her groin, sending tingles of excitement up her spine, she gnawed her lip.

“Perhaps I could interest you in a deep tissue massage,” he hummed, prompting her to nod. “Very well. Brace your hands to either side of the mirror, I want you to watch me claim you.”

Though she couldn’t find the words to reply, Dash did exactly what he asked. Regardless of if she was in some debaucherous dream or not, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on. Stepping to the wall, she leaned forward, braced her legs, and pressed her palms to the reflective surface. Flicking her tail to the side, as the stud got into position, she arched her back and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Deep breath,” he whispered, sinking his titanic length into her.

She gasped and trembled from head to toe, nearly climaxing simply from the immense intrusion. The feeling of having him stretch her open, testing the limits of her depths, was astoundingly intense, yet not unbearably so. Gritting her teeth, unwilling to let him do all the work, she rocked her hips back and forced several inches of his cock into herself.

“Brave,” he huffed, shifting one hand to her chest, “but foolish.”

Tugging on her nipple, causing a guttural groan to escape her lips, he started fucking - not the slow, steady thrusts of lovemaking, but the savage plunges of a conqueror. Undone by her hubris, struggling not to climax, she noticed a twisted smirk split his snout. Even if she was in peak condition, unhindered by the added weight of her enhanced figure, beating him in a test of strength would have been impossible.

“Just give in,” he tutted, giving a particularly deep thrust that battered her womb. “Submit to me and the glory of being my mare, or are you too scared to accept it…”

“I...I’m not - Oh Fuck!” she howled, trembling uncontrollably.

Her climax hit her like a bomb, sundering her resistance she had and derailing her train of thought. Organic nectar gushed from her pummeled cunt, spattering to the floor, yet the stallion showed no sign of slowing. Securing his grip, rutting her harder and faster than ever, he lightly snickered in her ear. As demeaning as it was, the thrill of being utterly dominated by someone, and a stallion no less, virtually shattered what little defiance she had left.

Fondling her bosoms, whispering sinful promises, and even occasionally toying with her clit, Gusa played her like a fiddle for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been that long. Fighting to remain standing, having peaked two more times in short order, Dash began to lose herself. Weakly meeting his thrusts, desperate for more, her eyes shot to his face when he slowed to a halt.

“Or perhaps I was mistaken,” he sighed, languidly hauling his shaft from her. Leaving just the tip of his length within her, tugging just lightly enough to pull her entrance outward, he somberly shook her head. “I’ll have my leave and -”

“Wait!” she blurted, peering up and back at him. “I...I don’t want you to stop.”

Piquing a brow, staring down at her, he looked her in the eye. “If that is true, I must give you a warning. If you truly wish for me to continue, I will only stop once I’ve claimed your womb and sown the seed of life within you.”

“I want it,” she faintly stated, clamping her snatch around him.

Freeing his tool, lightly smacking her backside, he cocked his head to the side. “Then prove it.”

Taking a deep deep breath and composing herself, not wanting to come off as too needy, she turned to face him. The small room gave her perilously little to work with, with the only item large enough to accommodate any sort of amorous hijinks being the massage table. Taking stock of her surroundings, as an idea occurred, she backed herself against the wall, just beside the mirror, and beckoned him closer.

The second he took a step in her direction, she put her hastily laid plan to action. Her scheme was as brazen as it was foolish, bordering on the insane, yet it was the best she could come up with. Leaping at him, using both her wings and legs to gain as much altitude as she could, she slammed against his chest, locked her legs around his waist, and set him off balance. As he stumbled forward, smashing her back against the wall, she drew her tongue up his neck.

“Does that prove it,” she cooed, nibbling his ear.

All but balanced on his stallionhood, feeling the mammoth appendage nestled in the cleft of her ass, she gyrated on him. There was no way in Tartarus she was going to get pushed around by a stallion, no matter how big he was, and she was going to do everything in her power to prove it - sure, she may have been on the cusp of begging him to plow her, but her natural competitive instincts demanded she show him who’s boss. His hands shot to her rump, sinking into her then-supple cheeks, as he flashed his teeth at her.

“The only thing that proves,” he began, lifting her as though she weighed nothing, “is that you’re worthy of my bearing my foal.”

Opening her mouth to reply, feeling the blunt head of his dick come to her entrance, she was impaled in a single, brutal stroke. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as her womb was utterly crushed by his gargantuan tool. She’d hoped to have a moment to recover, if only a second to prepare herself, but she got anything but. Without skipping a beat, pressing her against the wall, he started rutting her like a rabid animal.

Grunting with every plunge, feeling her insides being rearranged, she clung to him for dear life. How anyone could endure such a merciless pounding was beyond her grasp, and she wondered if all zebra stallions were as fervent as Gusa, but it made little difference. She’d called down the thunder, now she was going to reap the whirlwind.

Her hands pawed at his muscular back, she inhaled his scent with each shuddering breath, and her lower lips were ruthlessly drawn out and jammed in with every plunge of his massive length. Though she’d climaxed several times such a short time ago, when he’d screwed her from behind, she found herself nearing release yet again - not just because she was ready to cum again, but because he demanded it.

In the face of such overwhelming carnal might, she was nothing - no, less than nothing. Long-dormant portions of her mind went alight, grappling with the shocking circumstances. She was being fucked like a rag-doll by the largest, biggest-dicked stud she’d ever seen, she was somehow covered in stripes, and her once fit physique had transformed into something more fitting of a porn star, yet she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Her ambition soared, imbuing her with a strength she didn’t know she had. Flexing her legs, provoking him to fuck her even harder than he already was, she rhythmically tightened and relaxed her marehood around his pistoning length. While her efforts weren’t much compared to his, eclipsed by his herculean might, the gratification of proving herself worthy more than made up for the endeavor.

As she drew her tongue up his chest, giving his nipple a playful bite, he snorted above her. Considering his amazing performance, she had to do something to please him. Over the span of less than an hour, he’d delivered new, wondrous sensations that she never thought were possible, bringing about one mind blowing orgasm after another, prompting her to return the favor. Pummeling her cervix, hellbent on breaching her inner gate, he lifted her chin, leaned in, and locked lips with her.

As his long, powerful tongue pressed into her mouth, nearly reaching the back of her throat, her motions faltered. Yet again, she was reminded of her place and just how small she was. She was his toy, an outlet for his desires, and the best she could hope for was that she wasn’t found wanting.

“Your endurance and zeal are admirable,” he huffed, momentarily pulling away. “Our foal will combine our best qualities, having your tenacity and my physical might.”

Though she’d never given much thought to raising a family, the notion of bearing a superior foal was an exceptionally compelling one. A colt or filly created from her and the striped colossus would undoubtedly be impressive in every conceivable way, and her body immediately responded to the proposition. Without her knowing, grabbing his head and pulling him back into a deep kiss, a single, fertile egg began its pilgrimage to her beleaguered womb.

Alternating between brutal deep-dicking strokes and rapid fire pounding, he reshaped her once taut canal to suit his needs. It wasn’t like she’d ever fooled around much to begin with, yet she could tell that she was going to be utterly and completely ruined for anyone aside from the majestic giant. Feeling his length pulsing, realizing he had to be close, she tightened her legs around him.

She’d presumed he wasn’t going to last long, but he proved her wrong in the worst way. It wasn’t until she’d cum twice more, all but losing control of her body, that he finally reached his limit. With one final, unstoppable plunge, barging into her deepest depths, he grunted into her muzzle and came with the calamitous force of a tsunami.

She’d been on the cusp of breaking for minutes on end, barely clinging to her sanity, but the unbelievable influx of scalding foal-batter shattered her tenuous grasp of reality. Visions of her future self, heavily pregnant and more curvaceous than ever, assailed her. Throwing her head back, howling to the heavens, she was wracked with the most catastrophic orgasm of her life.

Weaving in and out of consciousness, with her limbs hanging limply from her frame, she was supported only by the wall at her back and the behemoth, flared stallionhood trapped within her. The sheer amount of ecstasy he delivered was inconceivable, making her question if the entire scenario had actually been a dream. Panting, peering down between her bosoms, the breath hitched in her throat.

Her belly had rounded like a balloon, quite literally inflated by the stud’s prolific deposit of spunk. The sight of herself, bloated and covered in sweat, tickled her imagination and caused her to giggle. Hearing him chuckle, she looked up into his eyes and found him smiling down at her. He really was an attractive, charming bastard, and she dearly hoped he was as happy about their obscene encounter as she was.

“I believe we both need to get cleaned up,” he grunted, wrapping his arms around her.

Stepping back, holding her to his chest, he turned and lumbered towards the exit. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, after nearly being fucked into a coma, but it certainly wasn’t to be paraded to the shower while his dick was lodged inside her quivering marehood. Clawing at his back, hearing the door open, she struggled to dismount from him.

“No,” he growled, grabbing her mane and pulling her head back, “you are now mine and everyone will know it.”

Apprehension tainted her arousal, coalescing into a degenerate string of thoughts. He’d meant what he said - he’d marked her, claimed her, more than likely knocked her up, and now he was going to parade her through the spa like a trophy. Aroused and fearful, filling her legs to clamp around him, she trembled with every step he took - not just because anybody could see her in such a compromising position, but because she secretly loved the concept of being an owned mare.

“Thank me,” he added, bucking into her and prompting her to mewl out. “Thank me like the whore you are.”

“T...thank you - Aaaaaahn - S...Sir!” she whimpered, sensing herself nearing yet another climax.

He’d broken her in mind, body, and spirit, destroying her to the very core, yet she wasn’t upset - no, she adored it. After so many years of searching for a challenge, someone who could best her, she’d finally been granted her wish. Bouncing on his cock, while he nonchalantly moved through the winding corridors to the baths, she submitted to him. While she wasn’t sure what he was going to do after they’d cleaned themselves up, she knew they were going to have a beautiful foal...

Stellar Flare

Stellar Flare considered herself a very lucky mare for a number of reasons - chief amongst which being that she’d somehow managed to bag an absolute beefcake of a zebra, one who was nearly half her age, strong as an ox, domineering to a fault, and incredibly well hung. Be darned if she could explain exactly why Induna, her young, virile lover, but he’d made it very clear that she was his and his alone - an offer she’d practically leapt at. Being no spring chicken, with her prospects of finding a mate dwindling by the day, she was overjoyed with her assertive stallion, yet her budding relationship had resulted in a curious and totally unforeseen snag.

Shortly after her not-so-little stud had moved in with her, she’d noticed that her son, Sunburst, had started acting peculiarly. It wasn’t long after she’d spoken with him, telling him that she’d entered a relationship with one of the Zebrican refugees, he’d made an impromptu visit, then a second and a third, until he was coming to see her twice a month. In and of itself, seeing him would have been a joy, although she quickly discovered he was much more interested in her suitor than herself.

She’d always been keenly aware that Sunburst had struggled with mares, and had often presumed he may have been playing for the other team, but his fascination with Induna had practically confirmed her suspicions about him. The way he looked at the tall, muscular zebra, how he’d sneak furtive glances at the stud’s groin, and his subtle blushing and tented slacks made her assumptions about his sexual preferences all the more clear. While some mares may have been disappointed with finding out their son was interested in guys, she found it rather endearing - in fact, she and her mate wanted to help him with his bashful urges.

Having discussed Sunburst’s dilemma and sheepish nature with Induna, a plan was devised - a plan which she hastily put into action. Having invited Sunburst over to stay for a weekend, promising him a home cooked meal and some quality time to catch up, it didn’t take long for her little scheme to bear fruit. It only took a matter of hours for his reply to appear via magically mailed scroll, with him enthusiastically accepting her offer.

That following weekend, just as she’d planned, she met him at the train station and escorted him back to their family home. The first day of his stay had been unassuming enough, with her preparing a meal for him and her lover, chatting about current events, and then going out for ice cream. For all intents and purposes, it had been a relatively boring afternoon, with nothing of note occurring whatsoever, but that was by design. It was only after she’d wished him a good night, retiring to her room with Induna for the evening, did she set things in motion.

Leaving the door to her bedchamber cracked open, knowing full well that her son’s room shared a wall with her own, she saw herself into the shower to make ready. Ordinarily speaking, she wouldn’t have even dreamt of having sex while Sunburst was home - then again, between her lover’s voracious sexual appetite, her own wildly rebounded libido, and her scheme, she almost felt obligated to act out of character. Hastily rinsing herself off and stepping out of the shower, without so much as toweling off, she walked out of the restroom.

“Is he in his room?” she quietly asked, spotting Induna by the door.

“If he’s not in bed yet, he will be shortly,” the titanic stallion rumbled, his sonorous voice like two grinding boulders. Turning to fully face the mare, he stepped over and unabashedly cupped her bosoms. “Speaking of beds, perhaps you should present yourself on ours.”

Smirking up at him, savoring the sensation of his strong, thick fingers against her breasts, she slipped a hand into his shorts. “I will be soon enough, but not before I get you nice and warmed up…”

Without another word, she sank into a deep squat, spread her legs, and brought her muzzle to his groin. Even while fully clothed, it was almost impossible to miss the imprint of his gargantuan package. She’d often fantasized about hooking up with a mountain of a stallion, especially in her youth, but she could never have guessed that she’d be lucky enough to meet, let alone woo someone so large and attractive! Steadily pulling down his trunks, with her mouth starting to water, she unveiled his monstrous package.

Roughly as long as her forearm and virtually as thick, his cock was, in a single word, godly. Obsidian flesh covered his length, an angry vein snaked along one side, and a pair of fist-sized nuts, each easily capable of knocking a mare up several times over, were the perfect accoutrements to the sheer magnitude of his endowment. There had been mornings where she’d simply laid there and marveled at his loins, oftentimes nonchalantly rubbing herself and thanking Celestia for the good fortune of meeting him, but looking only did so much. Shuffling forward, with one hand on her knee and the other inching towards her slavering nethers, she wrapped her lips around the blunted head of his stallionhood.

She’d never given much thought about zebra stallions, having always reasoned they weren’t much different than any other pony species, yet it didn’t take her long to discover how wrong she was. The aroma of their potent musk was enough to make her marehood ache, the sight of their adonic bodies sent shivers up their spine, the taste of their sweat made her heart flutter, and the sound of their sonorous, imperious voices begged her to worship them, although those paled in comparison to the carnal delights they had to offer. As the earthy flavor of his unwashed length washed over her tongue, she sank to fingers into her drooling snatch and committed herself.

Though she couldn’t speak for every mare, she’d quickly come to realize just how much of a blessing in disguise the influx of zebras had been. Practically all of the stallions were huge and exceptionally well built, very easy on the eyes, but the best part was how forward they were when it came to romantic pursuits. It had taken Induna less than an afternoon to profess his interest in her, after she’d employed him to help with work in the yard, and had bedded her that same night; after that, she’d found herself well and thoroughly wrapped around his finger, amongst one other particularly girthy thing he had.

Feeling him clutch the back of her skull, she hastily drew a breath and relaxed her throat. To say that he was demanding would be a bit of an understatement, using her like an object to sate his desires, yet she loved every second of it. After having gone for years without the slightest bit of amorous affection, his assertive behavior was and rough treatment of her was exactly what she’d needed. Holding her head in place, firmly grasping her shoulder length mane, he bucked his hips and drove his shaft down her gullet.

Though her eyes watered and throat painfully stretched around him, her depths clenched around her soaked digits. The feeling of being used drove her absolutely wild, especially because of the disparity of their ages, to the point where she had and would do things for him that she’d never considered before. In truth, it hadn’t been her idea to leave the door open or have what would undoubtedly be very loud sex to catch her son peeping - no, Induna had thought it up himself.

Grunting and plowing her face, heedless or uncaring of the tears creeping down her cheeks or the saliva dangling from her chin, the colossal grinned down at her. His smile alone was nearly enough to make her climax on the spot, causing her thighs to tremble and pulse to race, although she knew the best was yet to come. Gagging and sputtering around his length, dutifully mopping his shaft with her lips, she drew sips of air if and when she was able.

“I wonder if your son will look as cute with my cock in their mouth,” Induna mused, pulling her forward and grinding her nose against the thick folds of his sheath. “Would you like to see me ruin him?”

His grip relaxed and his hand moved away, allowing her to rear back and clear her airway. Coughing pre-cum from her throat, pawing at her tender neck, she peered up at him. It was the first he’d mentioned about actually doing anything with Sunburst, so it took her a moment to react - a moment which cost her dearly. Grabbing her hair and wrenching her head back, he leaned in and brought his nose to within an inch of her snout.

“Or would it be that you’re scared I’ll enjoy destroying him and making him my bitch more than you?” he snarled.

“I…I…” she stammered, as a maelstrom of fear and panic beset her thoughts, “I want to help you ruin him?”

The titan cocked his head and squinted, possibly taken aback by her spontaneous reply. “Oh really now?”

“Yes,” she bleated, reaching out to adoringly massage and fondle his profound balls, “I want you to show him how amazing zebras really are!”

While her response had been uttered out of fear, it wasn’t without a grain of truth. If showing her son how amazing zebras could be meant her sharing her lover with him and toeing the line of the taboo, she’d do it - not just because the thought of him becoming a striped devotee was extraordinarily and inexplicably arousing, but because she genuinely wished for him to experience the raw intensity and unmatched passion of the banded giants. Wriggling her head free, she shot forward and drew her tongue over her lover’s immense nuts.

“In that case,” he continued, stepping back and putting her adoration to an abrupt halt, “get on the bed and spread your legs. After I’m done with you, I’m sure even your neighbors will know who you belong to…”

Enthusiastically nodding, she got to her feet and flung herself onto the nearby mattress. His mention of the neighbors was a moot point, considering the whole town knew of her youthful mate. It would have been obvious enough knowing they were an item, given how often they went out together, but he was often quite nonchalant about being affectionate with her. Kissing, flirting, or even openly groping her in public were common, and they’d even fucked in the local movie theater once, so there was no hiding the fact that they’d become intimate.

Rolling onto her back and splaying her legs, she reached between her supple thighs and spread her meaty, lower lips. She’d never been the brazen type, having been relatively sexually reserved for her entire life, but being with Induna had changed all that. There was something captivating about him, and the sex was downright addictive, so the list of things she wouldn’t or hadn’t done to please him grew shorter and shorter by the day. While she’d always considered herself an independent mare, he’d shown her the truth and unveiled what she really was - just an item to serve and please him.

“There’s a good girl,” he chuckled, stepping between her outstretched legs to smack his length against her neatly trimmed mound. “Now beg for it.”

“Fuck me, please,” she whimpered, unable to look away from his imposingly wondrous stallionhood.

Shaking his head from side to side, he inched backward and pressed the fat tip of his cock to her entrance. “You’ll have to be louder than that, how else do you expect your son to hear how much of a whore you’ve become?”

Looking to the empty doorway, fully aware that her son lingered on the other side of a perilously thin wall, her thoughts ran rampant. If she didn’t do what he asked, she’d more than likely be left without the gratifying release of a thorough rutting, but it could potentially be worse than that. She hadn’t denied his advances or his petitions to debase herself, regardless of how degrading they could and often would be, so refusing to do what he asked may well lead to him moving on to greener, younger, more fertile pastures.

“Please,” she falteringly stated, glancing at his face, “I need it.”

“If you really needed it,” he snickered, prodding her quivering sex, “you’d say it like you meant it.”

Feeling a cold bead of sweat roll down her back, in stark contrast to the warmth permeating from her lower abdomen, her indecision fractured. “Fuck me!” she blared, locking her ankles around his waist while attempting to pull him forward. “Take that fat cock and screw my braaaAAAHHHHHHN!”

Her plea died, replaced by a shrill wail of bliss, as he rammed his hips forward and instantaneously sheathed his behemoth in her taut depths. The sensation of her cunt going from totally vacant to absolutely stuffed full of dick was impossible to describe, a wondrous and terrifying combination of pleasure and discomfort, yet it was one of the myriad of reasons she adored him. Not only was he immeasurably well-hung, but he held nothing back.

Triumphantly bucking against her, crushing her womb in the process, a wolfish smirk split his muzzle. He wasn’t typically one to toy with her, leaving her to presume that having Sunburst at home had sparked some particularly sadistic flame within him. Grabbing one of her knees in each arm, he hauled her ass to the very edge of the bed, rolled his hips back, and started plowing her like a field in spring.

Whether or not she had company in the house was of little consequence, as she howled out like a blissful banshee. To say being claimed by such a paragon of masculinity would be an understatement, so great was the mind-sundering ecstasy he afforded. The bed creaked and groaned beneath them, her wails reverberated throughout the room, and his grunting were a symphony of sin, a testament to their primal desires.

Though it was a fool’s errand, she tried in vain to clench around his pistoning shaft. She realized he could have chosen someone far more youthful, sowing his seed within them to start a family, yet he’d picked her of all ponies, and no thanks would ever be enough to repay him. As she rocked back and forth atop the sheets, slammed forward and drawn back by his unstoppable plunges, her hands shot to her chest.

While there was only so much she could do to make him feel good, with her depths being damn near virginal for someone his size, there were still ways she could please him. Raising her voice, mewling louder than before, she fiercely gripped a nipple in each hand and pulled. The slatternly display drew an approved grunt from the stud and hastened the pace of his pounding hips, pushing her to the very cusp of release.

The additional pleasure of playing with her teats, aside from getting the stallion all the more heated, proved to be just what she needed to slip over the edge. Her marehood convulsed and gushed a torrent of climactic nectar, while her mouth hung open in a silent scream, as she was overwhelmed with ecstasy. Though he’d made her cum more times than she could dare count, each was as awe inspiring and profound as the last.

She couldn’t say if every zebra stallion was as adept at satisfying mares as Induna, but he was far and away the most skillful lover she’d ever had. Finding her voice, motivated by the insatiable need for more, she fitfully bucked up to meet his thrusts. Between his massive size, impeccable technique, and just how forceful he was, she didn’t have a choice but to become putty in his big, strong hands - still, as overjoyed with him as she was, she couldn’t help but regret not finding him or a similarly impressive striped stud sooner.

Compared to every pony she’d ever shared a bed with, her mate was on an entirely different level. While she didn’t have all that many friends who openly discussed their love lives, she had noticed that a growing number of mares had taken zebras as partners - not like she could blame them. After her first night with Induna, she didn’t think she could go back to just any other stallion.

As her climax dwindled off, already rebounding and growing towards yet another orgasm, his motions abruptly grew to a halt. The sensation of him stopping shook her brack to the present, evoking a sense of panic and heartbreak in her lust-addled mind. Peering up at him, seeing his head turned towards the door, she followed his gaze and went rigid. There, peeking in from the hallway, was the unmistakable shock of vermillion mane and cyan eyes of her son.

“Come in,” Induna intoned, lifting and waving a hand. “If you’d like to watch, you may as well give yourself a closer look.”

The statement caused Stellar’s blood to run cold, but not as cold as when her boy actually obeyed the titan. Pushing the door open and timidly entering the chamber, wearing not but a pair of briefs and a t-shirt, Sunburst anxiously looked between her and the giant impaling her. Being caught in the act would have been disconcerting enough, but having her son seeing her in such an unbecoming way was beyond degrading.

“Good colt,” the zebra chuckled. “Now then, here’s what you’re going to do. I’ll give you a show,” he added, smirking down at the heavily blushing mare, “and make you cum, but there’s a small price to be paid. Sunburst, strip naked and sit beside your mother. Stellar, you’re going to explain to your son why you have taken a zebra lover.”

“D…do I have to?” Sunburst stammered, the tent in his underwear speaking to the contrary of his reluctance.

“You will do as I say, if you ever want to experience the same joys as your mother…” the stud growled.

She was shocked with the direction things had taken, though not nearly as shocked by seeing her son slowly undress and hesitantly crawl onto the bed. She hadn’t seen Sunburst naked since he’d been a small foal, and she’d had no intention of seeing him nude since, but the sight of him steadily moving towards her redoubled her mounting anxiety - that was, until Induna gave her a particularly hard thrust. In the blink of an eye, her apprehension was replaced by rapture.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” the giant hummed, fucking her at a slow but steady rhythm. “Tell him all the ways that we zebras are superior, and don’t forget to point out how he could never dare dream to match our carnal prowess.”

The raw pleasure coursing through her demanded she oblige, and so her eyes wandered over to her progeny. Kneeling just at her side, easily within arms reach, she looked from his flushed face, down his slender frame, and to his groin. The sight of his stallionhood, if it could even be called that, was almost laughable compared to her hulking mate’s.

“Go on,” the stud urged, angling his hips upward to better accost her g-spot.

“I…it’s so good,” she whimpered, subconsciously reaching to her groin and massaging her clit. “He’s - Oh fuck - he’s so much better than a pony.”

Though Sunburst twisted in place, slipping glances at behemoth stallionhood utterly ruining her cunt, while his prick excitedly twitched. It was painfully obvious that he was enjoying the show, even if he wouldn’t freely admit it, and his actions were a testament to that fact. Keeping his lips sealed, one hand crept to his crotch while the other moved to his chest.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Induna snarled, causing the lad to start. As the young stallion’s arms hung limply to his sides, bearing a pained expression, the titan’s expression softened. “Good…If you do as I say and listen, you’ll learn that serving a real stallion has its own rewards. Observe…”

Launching into a merciless series of plunges, effectively jackhammering into Stellar, he made the mare cum in a matter of seconds. Her body twisted and spasmed, fem-cum lewdly gushed and squelched from her battered cunt, and she screamed out in ecstasy, while she was driven past her limits. Sunburst could only watch the obscene display, as a bead of clear pre-cum oozed from the tip of his meager length.

“Whore,” the stud huffed, keeping up his breakneck pace, “tell him how he could never compare with one such as myself.”

With her sanity all but gone, cast into a maddening sea of lust, Stellar looked to her son with a crazed look in her eyes. “There’s no way you could!” she guffawed, peeking at his minuscule endowment. “I’m actually relieved you’re a sissy, because you’d never be able to satisfy a mare with that pathetic little -”

“N…ngh…” his restrained whimper cut him off, as pitiful, thin seed dribbled from his shaft.

The sight was so unexpected and pitiful that she couldn’t hold back her laughter. “How sad is - Aaaaahn!”

Either pleased by the humiliation of her son or that she’d just willingly degraded her own offspring, Induna redoubled his efforts. It was all she could do to groan and cry out in bliss, while he pulled her legs apart and drove her ankles to either side of her head. She didn’t care that her son was a faggot - she didn’t care that she’d was being defiled in front of her only child - the only thing she gave a damn about was earning her stud’s precious foal-batter.

Feeling him starting to flair, sensing him throb harder and faster with each passing second, she knew his time was growing short. As the tip of his length swelled to nearly double its original size, locking itself against her womb, the pitch of her braying reached a crescendo. Some part of her knew she couldn’t be able to live without him, that she’d do anything he wanted, but she’d given up any hope of going without him or the rapture he gave her.

As his scalding cream flooded into her, evoking yet another climax, her mind went blank. Pony mares simply weren’t made to withstand the sexual power of a zebra stallion in rut, and she was no different than the rest of them. Weaving in and out of consciousness, only vaguely aware of him moving from atop her, she senselessly gazed at the ceiling. Induna stepped forward and knelt above her head, filling her vision with his weighty testes and cum-slickened length, before the silence was eventually broken.

“Sunburst,” the stud commanded, “lick me clean.”

Too weary to be shocked, Stellar watched her son shuffle over and eagerly mop the zebra’s length with his tongue. As strange as it was to admit, a part of her was happy that her baby-boy seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the scandalous and wholly inappropriateness of the scene. Shakily lifting her head, knowing better than to be told, she pressed her muzzle against her lover’s and began to lavish them with kisses.

“Do you wish to be treated like your mother?” Induna asked, sounding almost affectionate.

Though there was a slight pause, despite being unable to see the exchange, she heard her son’s response as clear as day. “Y…yes, Sir.”

“I’m proud that you’re finally honest, although there’s still much for you to do. Tomorrow morning, you will inform the Crystal Empire of your resignation and fully commit yourself to me,” the titan rumbled.

She could only imagine Sunburst’s reaction, but it didn’t take him long to reply. “Alright…”

“And as for you,” the striped stallion murmured, shuffling back to gaze down at the supine mare, “you will help your child learn his place.”

The statement made his intentions clear, she was to not only watch her son lose what little masculinity he had, she was going to aid in the process. Unable to disagree, well past the point of no return, she craned her neck and kissed the tip of his gigantic cock alongside her child. All but making out with her son around the obsidian behemoth, she smiled. At least she had her baby-boy back at home again…

Sunburst

Though it had been less than a month since he’d accepted Induna’s offer, willingly submitting himself to the domineering goliath of a stallion, his old life was all but gone. Aside from quitting his job as the Royal Crystaller, forsaking everything his years of study had earned him, he’d been all but forced to look and act the part of a servile, obedient female. His beard had been shaved off, his modest wardrobe was discarded and replaced with whorish, revealing attire, and he was expected to follow his master’s commands without question.

Unlike his mother, who for some reason was allowed to dress relatively normally, he was paraded about like an effeminate harlot. Pants were a thing of the past, his underwear had been replaced by panties, and his stallionhood had been locked in chastity - all of which helped to cement his role as a bottom bitch. While the expectations placed upon him were a bit unsettling, especially while he was out in public, the thrill of being objectified more than made up for his crumbling self-respect.

“How many times have I told you,” Induna grumbled, shaking the femcolt from his stupor, “stop attempting to cover yourself.”

“S…sorry, Sir,” Sunburst hastily muttered, moving his hands away from the front of his skirt.

The piece of clothing failed to even cover his groin, giving anyone and everyone a few of the small bulge within his thong. The rest of his attire was no less shameful than his undergarment, consisting of fishnet leggings, a clinging crop top, and a collar. It would have been awkward enough to be seen adorned in such a salacious outfit, but the fact that his stud, the very stud who’d broken his mother, was prone to showing him off did little to preserve what was left of his decency.

His only comfort came from the fact that Sire’s Hollow was sparsely populated, but even the small town had been affected by the Zebrican touch. Refugees had become increasingly prevalent, with the townsfolk embracing their striped cousins with open arms, and he’d already begun to notice the societal effects of the influx. A growing number of mares and even a shocking number of stallions had taken zebra lovers, though nobody seemed to mind the sudden shift in romantic interests. Trotting along by his master, with his mother having opted to stay at home, a giggle caught his ear.

“Nice bitch you got,” a girlish voice remarked, drawing his attention over to a tall, well-built zebra mare.

“She is quite the catch,” Induna snickered, draping his arm over the svelte little pony’s shoulder. Reaching down the femcolt’s chest, nonchalantly pulling up his top to reveal Sunburst’s deliciously flat chest, he pinched the lad’s nipple.

Sunburst stifled a whimper and ground his thighs together, feeling his cage leak a bead of pre-cum. He’d originally presumed that wearing the metal restraint would be unpleasant, yet yet it hadn’t taken him long to acclimate to being chaste. Induna had explained that it would help him think clearly and become a better mare, forcing him to focus on pleasing his betters, and he’d been absolutely correct. With the little contraption being magically affixed, and only his master holding the ability to remove it, he’d found it harder and harder not to dwell on the massive stallion and his heavenly endowment.

“Is that actually a stallion you have,” the Zebrican mare continued, strolling closer, “or is it merely a flat-chested mare.”

Shifting his hand to Sunburst’s backside, giving the sissy’s pillowy rump a squeeze, Induna smugly grinned. “Show her…”

Knowing better than to hesitate, Sunburst leaned back slightly, flipped the front of his skirt, and tugged his panties down with his thumb. Fortunately for him, there wasn’t anyone else around to see the obscene display, yet his cheeks darkened nonetheless. As the large female guffawed, reaching out and flicking his cage, he suppressed a shiver of excitement.

“That has to be the most adorable little excuse of a prick I’ve ever seen - as a matter of fact, I believe my clit may be bigger,” the woman laughed, grabbing hold of his diminutive package. “Have you fucked the cum out of her yet?”

“Not yet,” Induna hummed, “but I’m getting her ready to…”

Without so much as another word, Sunburst was spun around, bent over, and had his tush put on display. As he felt the thong pulled from between the supple cheeks of his ass, reflexively clenching around the XXL plug that was lodged in his backside, he gulped. Having his overstuffed ass shown off to a perfect stranger did little to help him stay relaxed, yet his master’s statement immediately drew his undivided attention.

“As a matter of fact,” the giant purred, running a finger over the toy’s thick base, “I may just do that this afternoon.”

With his pucker constrict around the plug, feeling his heart skip a beat, Sunburst was straightened up as abruptly as he’d been shown off. He’d secretly hoped that the stud would eventually fool around with him, but the most he’d done thus far was serve as a fluffer for the mountainous beefcake. Straightening his attire and doing what he could to make himself presentable, he fought back an expectant, nervous smile.

“Anyways, we need to get going. I’ve gotta pick up a few things from the store and some lube,” Induna rumbled, taking his bitch by the wrist and turning to leave.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur and relatively uneventful, save for having the cashier at the store giggle when she rang up a large bottle of lube they’d purchased. After they were finished with their errands, they returned home, had a modest meal, and wound down for the evening - well, all except for Sunburst. Once finished with dinner, asking if he could be excused, he rushed off to the bathroom to prepare himself.

The end and beginning of each day were the same, with him thoroughly cleaning, lubing, and plugging his backdoor. He’d been speechless when Induna had told him to wear the plug morning, evening, and night, believing the thing would never fit, yet he’d gradually grown accustomed to having his ass stretched open. Slipping into a set of frilly negligee, having already jammed the toy into himself, he looked in the mirror and gave himself a once over.

Gazing at his reflection, seeing just how well the marish outfit suited him, he proudly grinned. He never would have thought he’d end up dressing in such an effeminate way - then again, as of a few months ago, he never thought he’d find himself pining over a big, burly zebra stud. For nearly his entire life, he hadn’t had an interest in guys - that was, until the refugees started moving into Equestria.

Be damned if he could explain it, but something about the hulking studs was almost too irresistible; something about their imposing size, impressive builds, and their unshakable confidence had sparked an interest in him - an interest which had only grown stronger over time. After he’d found out his mother, an attractive mare by any measure, had started living with one of the exotic beauties, he’d started falling down the rabbit hole.

It had started innocently enough, looking up interspecies porn with zebras and ponies, but things had gradually grown more and more depraved. Videos and articles about zebrican superiority were some of the worst, somehow evoking a mingled sense of disgust and intense arousal, and he quickly found himself consuming more and more of the material until things came to a head. After watching his mother getting mercilessly plowed by the towering adonis that was her lover, some part of him broke - after all, if she could experience such taboo joys, why couldn’t he?

Pulling his lacy panties into place, with the chrome of his cage visible beneath the sheer fabric, he sauntered out and towards Stellar’s room - or should he say their room. Since Induna had taken his mother and himself as playthings, forming a quasi-insestuous harem for himself, he’d been sharing their king-sized bed. While it was a bit odd to act as a third in his mother’s relationship, the heady mix of his lust, growing ambitions to devote himself to a striped stud, and his servile nature made the accommodations palatable enough - that and he was still hoping to take a more active part with the behemoth.

Entering the bedchamber, seeing Stellar resting on the edge of the mattress, facing the door with her legs spread, he paused. It wasn’t like her to be in such a position unless Induna had commanded her to do so, yet the stallion lingered several feet away. Looking to the colossus, subconsciously eyeing the gargantuan, semi-rigid cock dangling in the open air, he felt his cage tighten.

“Bend over and warm her up for me,” the titan commanded, nodding to the mare.

Hesitating only for a split second, Sunburst crossed to the bed and did as he was asked. He’d grown increasingly accustomed to working as an accoutrements for the pair, serving as an opening act or to clean them after the main event, which was as frustrating as it was exciting. Leaning forward and bringing his muzzle between his mom’s plump, juicy thighs, breathing in the smell of her sex, he peeked up at her eyes.

“Don’t look so sad -” she sighed, grabbing his mane and jamming his face to her cunt, “after all, your oral skills are rather impressive.”

“They’re adequate, at best,” Induna corrected, creeping behind the twinkish stallion, “but I’m sure they’ll get better - I mean, it’s not like he’ll ever be able to pleasure a mare in any other way.”

Though the words stung a bit, Sunburst drew his tongue up his mother’s well-used and well-trained marehood. He didn’t dare speak back, for fear of angering Induna or upsetting Stellar, so he made sure to put his mouth to a better use than complaining. As he lapped and licked away, feeling her thighs lightly tremble against his cheeks, the sensation of something pulling on his butt-plug caused him to slow.

“Did I say you could stop?” the stud asked, prompting the femcolt to continue.

Sunburst shivered, feeling the considerably sized toy being freed from his clinging rear. The cool air against his gaped, winking hole was almost tragic, and more than a little embarrassing, yet it didn’t stay that way for long. What could only be a finger circled his backdoor, before sinking into his depths to fiercely rub his tender p-spot.

“I’m amazed that you thought he was straight,” Induna chuckled, milking the lad’s bitch-button like a pro.

“Well - right there, Sweetheart,” Stellar groaned, as her son suckled on her clit. “For the longest time, I thought he was, but I was clearly mistaken.”

“Sissies like him are all the same, and some even convince themselves that they like girls, but it makes no difference - in the end, once they realize their place, they’re the same as a cock-hungry mare,” the zebra explained, worming a second and third finger into the femcolt’s tush. “Isn’t that right, sissy?”

Pulling away for just a moment, if only to answer his master, Sunburst peered back over his shoulder. “Y…yes, Sir.”

Induna flashed his teeth at the needy, crossdressing stallion, while continuing to finger-bang his newest toy. “And look how honest she’s become! If I didn’t know better, I’d say she wants nothing more than for me to breed her right now.”

The thought alone of being rutted was enough to make Sunburst’s pulse quicken, and he couldn’t help but express his enthusiasm. Bracing his legs and arching his back, flipping his tail to the side, he reached back with one hand and pulled upon one cheek of his behind. He may not have been willing to go so far as to beg, yet making himself appear submissive and breedable certainly couldn’t hurt his chances of finally getting lucky.

“See how badly she wants it?” Induna mocked, withdrawing his hand and slapping the femcolt’s ass. “How could she ever have called herself a stallion?”

Stellar’s demure laugh perfectly complemented the degradation, as she pulled her son’s face back between her legs. “I would say it’s disappointing, but I always did want a daughter.”

Blinded by his passion, leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet, Sunburst blindly rocked his hips forward and back. He hadn’t cum in weeks, with the chastity cage stymieing any attempts for him to get himself off, and the plug he constantly wore had stretched him open and left his prostate in a hypersensitive state. Feeling a pair of strong hands grasp his broad hips, while hearing the stallion behind him move slightly, he prayed the stud would finally lay claim to him.

The sensation of something immense pressing against his backside set his heart racing. Though he couldn’t see what was going on, he could think of only two possible explanations: either the stud was about to fist him, or he was about to lose his virginity to a massive zebra dick. Trying and failing to calm his frazzled nerves, knowing full well just how incredibly endowed the stallion was, he forced himself to be still.

“Beg for it,” the stud’s sonorous demand cut through the air. “Beg for it like the little faggot you are.”

“P…please,” he whimpered, rearing back and licking his lips clean. “I want you to treat me like you treat my mom.”

Upon hearing his plea, the towering stallion guffawed. “I see the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, little whore.”

Sunburst couldn’t disagree, especially after having seen first hand how much his mother enjoyed being dominated by the titan, yet that did little to help his predicament. Had the stallion asked, he would have dropped to his knees and said anything - done anything to earn the right to be fucked, willingly discarding his dignity. Seconds passed in silence, with his anxiety growing stronger and stronger, before he finally found the courage to speak again.

“I…I want…” he faltered, tamping down his pride. “I want you to fuck what little masculinity is left out of me,” he mewled, fitfully throwing his hips back. “I don’t care about mares anymore - I want to be your mare!”

The zebra locked eyes with him, smiling all the while, before he finally spoke. “As you wish…”

“Wait,” Stellar blurted, catching the pair totally off guard. “Flip her over first, I want to see her face when you do it.”

Induna’s annoyance at her outburst shifted to sadistic glee, as he stooped down and seized hold of the femcolt’s legs. “Then move.”

Sunburst watched his mother hastily shuffle to the head of the bed, clearing the mattress. Before he could speak - heck, before he could even think, his whole world spun around. Roughly flipped onto his back, he gazed down his chest as the stallion stepped between his legs. The sight of his burly frame and chiseled muscles were almost as thrilling as knowing he was about to get his wish. Mirroring Stellar’s actions, from the night he’d first seen her in the throes of passion, he gently wriggled his legs free and rested his ankles on the zebra’s hips.

“Just do me one favor,” Induna purred, guiding the profound tip of his stallionhood to the femcolt’s entrance, “scream for me.” Moving at an unhurried pace, the stud forced his length into the pitiful excuse for a stallion.

Sunburst’s eyes widened, his jaw hung open in shock, and the breath hitched in his throat, as he was overcome by the indescribable sensation of being penetrated by another. Being screwed by any stallion would undoubtedly be an intense experience in and of itself, but there were two problems; for starters, this wasn’t just any stallion, it was a mighty zebra - secondly, and more prudently, the actual screwing was yet to begin.

Squirming and fidgeting in place, he reeled at the overpowering sensation of being gradually and inexorably filled. A frightful mix of discomfort and pleasure mingled with the psychological shock of willingly submitting to such a demeaning act proved a deadly cocktail, leaving him unable to think clearly. Lifting his head and gazing down at his master, wondering just how much cock had been entombed within him, he noticed his mother lean in.

“Isn’t it wonderful,” she cooed, reaching out to tease one of his nipples, “the feeling of giving yourself to someone so superior, so much better than you could ever dare dream to be?” Hearing him groan out, seeing his eyes roll to the back of his head, she pressed the attack. “This is right where you belong, isn’t it? Go on, sissy, you can be honest with me…”

As Induna’s girthy medial ring bumped against his stretched hole, Sunburst reflexively nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re almost there, my little slut,” the stud growled, driving his hips forward. “Soon you will be meant only for us, for those of my kind. After I’m done with you, you will never know satisfaction with a pony for the rest of your days.”

“You want that ~ don’t you?” Stellar whispered, bringing her muzzle to his ear. “Imagine being a perfectly pretty little house bitch for some big, muscular stud - wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“H…harder,” Sunburst croaked, flexing his legs and drawing the stallion deeper.

He could practically feel his insides being resized and shaped to suit his true purpose - being the bottom-bitch for a real stallion. Looking up to his mother, seeing her grinning down at his belly, he followed her gaze and sharply inhaled. As unbelievable as it was, he could see the unmistakable imprint of the stud’s stallionhood steadily moving up his torso and to his rib-cage. As captivating as the sight was, the sensation of having his p-spot smashed by the thick root of his master’s tool shattered his focus.

It was an experience like no other, testing the limits of both his mind and his body, and it was more than he could endure. Striking out of nowhere, an onslaught of bliss threatened to overtake his very being and wipe his existence from reality, causing him to howl out in rapture. He’d masturbated more times than he could count, and even fooled around with his childhood friend Starlight Glimmer a handful of times, yet this was something different - this was an epoch.

“Oh…oh my god,” Stellar gasped, bursting into a fit of laughter. “She even squirts like a mare!”

“They always do,” Induna gruffly snickered, beginning to fuck his plaything in earnest.

Despite being locked within a minuscule cage, Sunburst felt the heat of his impotent spunk squirting over his thighs and dainty coin purse. He had heard stories about stallions who could cum without touching themselves, though he’d always assumed it was a tall tale or that there’d been some trick involved, and his master had proven the claims true.

Thrust after thrust, having cum and pre forced from his chaste prick, he could feel his masculinity slipping away drop by worthless drop. Barely able to comprehend the enormity of the situation, he swayed forward and back with each of the stud’s plunges. The experience was even more profound than he’d imagined, and he knew there’d be no going back.

“That’s right,” the zebra grunted, increasing his pace, “just let it out. After I’m done with you, you’ll never be able to call yourself a - Mmmph - stallion again; you’ll be nothing more than a weak, miserable excuse for a cum-dumpster for me when your mother isn’t around.”

“Hopefully more often than that,” Stellar murmured beside the moaning femcolt, “because this is so much hotter than it should be.”

Wearily looking over at the mare, approaching a second climax quicker than should have been possible, Sunburst only then realized that his mother was getting off to the depraved scene. Nearly fist-fucking herself, with nectar leaking down her wrist and to the sheets below, she hauled on his nipple. It was only at that moment, comprehending how much she relished his destruction as a stallion, that he broke.

The combination of debasement, shame, physical stimulation, and arousal proved too much to bear, casting him into an oblivion of sinful pleasure. Wailing to the heavens, with yet more of his thin jizz sputtering from his chaste tool, he lost himself completely. He had nothing left, having forsaken everything he had and everything he ever was for this, and the deepest, darkest part of his id latched to the notion and forced him to act.

“P…please,” he cried, weeping tears of disgrace and joy, “breed me, Master!”

Some combination of his wretched appeal, the taboo of having conquered his mother and himself, and the act of defiling a once proud stallion did the trick, sending Induna into a frenzy. Bucking at an unbelievable rate, harder and faster than seemed even remotely possible, the titan drove himself to the brink. The sheer pace and ferocity of the plowing nearly made him pass out, raising the pitch of his braying an octave or two, but he somehow endured.

On and on the towering stud went, fucking him while his mother gleefully watched and got herself off, until it happened. Induna’s hands sailed to his hips, pulling his body closer, as he gave one final, unyielding plunge. Burying every inch of his monstrous, throbbing appendage, the zebra issued a triumphant bellow and came with all the force of a tsunami.

Sunburst had thought he was broken, reduced to a shadow of his former self, but he’d been wrong. The moment he felt the scalding influx flooding through his bowels, paining his interior and touching him in a way no other had, a part of him died. Gone was the proud, hard working, intellectual stallion he’d toiled to become, replaced by a subservient and lowly sow whose sole purpose was to pray his betters used his body like a sex-toy.

“Thank you!!!” he maddeningly screamed, as his gut warmed and swelled outward with his master’s gift. “Thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou…”

Unhinged by the raw ecstasy of finding his true calling, it was all he could do to gibber and writhe beneath the stud, acting as a depository for the superior creature’s essence. In spite of the harsh treatment and mind-bending rapture, he absentmindedly pawed and rubbed his swollen belly. Had he not known better, he could swear he both felt and looked like an expectant mare, and the thought brought with it an oddly comforting and arousing wave of euphoria.

“She almost looks knocked up,” Stellar remarked, crawling forward to lovingly fondle the stud’s rapidly emptying nuts.

Induna hummed and raised a brow, looking the cum-drunk failure of a stallion over. “Perhaps I should call in a favor. There are those of my tribe who brew potions which may help with situations like these.”

The mare started, clearly intrigued by the idea. “Oh?”

“Yes,” the zebra intoned, “elixirs which would soften her curves, expand her bust, and diminish her clit to a useless, permanently flaccid nub.”

Though Sunburst was only partially aware of what was being said, the mention of being feminized to better suit his role brought him to focus. Looking between his mother and master, tiredly smiling at them, he tried and failed to push himself up. His throat felt raw from all the screaming, it felt like his limbs weighed thousands of pounds, and his sense of self was in shambles, yet there was something he needed to say.

“I…I’ll - Cough - I’ll be a good mare, I promise,” he meekly croaked, wiping the tears from his cheek.

“If that’s true, you’ll have to prove it. Whore,” Induna snarled, glowering down at the mare, “when I pull out, plug her to keep my seed in her belly. If she truly wishes to become my pet, with a body to match her slatternly desires, she will find the strength to accompany us to my associate’s home.”

Mutely complying with his order, as the zebra sluggishly stepped back and freed his length, Stellar corked her son’s ass with the stopper-like plug. It took everything Sunburst had to roll to his side, both feeling and hearing the tremendous load sloshing around within his gut, but he somehow managed to turn and fall to the floor. As he shakily pushed himself up, determined to earn his right as a mare, he found himself facing the stud’s - his stud’s semi-flaccid, cum-slathered length.

“Lick me clean, Slut,” Induna demanded, slapping the femcolt’s cheek with his cock, “then we can go out.”

Reverently reaching out and stroking the midnight length of flesh, mopping the lube and spunk from its velvety skin, Sunburst swallowed down mouthful after mouthful. He’d soon take the final step, committing his mind, body, and soul to his betters, but there was something he had to say first. Taking the briefest pause and rearing back, grinning from ear to ear, he drew a shuddering breath.

“Thank you, Sir…”

Gallus

Smiling at his reflection, having reapplied his lipstick, Gallus shot himself a wink. Compared to a year ago, back before he’d dropped out of the royal guard academy, he was a totally different griffon - then again, a lot had changed beside his aesthetic. He’d left his old life and ambitions behind him, all because of one defining experience.

He’d had potential in the academy, despite the classes and physical trials being demanding, yet he’d been unable to address a growing itch. The influx of Zebrican refugees didn’t bother him in the slightest - in fact, he was happy to have plenty of newcomers in town, but it didn’t stay that way for long. His curiosity about the exotic ponies turned into an interest, and that interest gradually metamorphosed into a fixation. Before he knew it, he’d started longing for their big, striped bodies.

The strangest thing was that, prior to meeting any zebra besides Zecora, he’d always considered himself straight - sadly, being surrounded by massive, striped studs, his heterosexualy crumbled like a house of cards. A passing compliment on his girlish figure and a casual slap to his generous backside, from one of his classmates at the time, had been the straw that broke the camel’s back, prompting him to go out and buy his first dildo - after that, it was all downhill. He eventually left the school, embraced his wanton desires, and took a job at a Zebrican dive bar.

As he turned in place, wishing to make himself presentable, he reached back and wiped at the jizz between his supple cheeks. It wasn’t uncommon for customers to give him more than just a tip, oftentimes resulting in a bit of a mess, but that wasn’t a problem in the slightest - heck, if he headed home from work without a belly and ass full of cum, he considered his day a loss. Tossing the tissue into a nearby trash bin, he slipped his thong back into place, brushed off his micro-skirt, and strode out of the employee’s restroom.

With a thumping bass-line in his ears, a sway in his hips, and a smirk on his beak, he surveyed the bar. There weren’t many places that not only allowed but encouraged him to dress like a girl, yet he’d been lucky enough to land a gig at one. Truth be told, he didn’t really have any masculine clothing left, with his wardrobe almost entirely comprised of feminine garments - on the other hand, he barely qualified as a male anymore.

His ass was plump, his hips were full, and he’d even sprouted a pair of soft, very sensitive bosoms on his once deliciously flat chest. While he couldn’t explain exactly why or how his figure had become increasingly girlish, the last thing he was going to do was complain. As far as he was concerned, his outward appearance was steadily coming to mirror how he felt inside - that is to say, a total slut.

“Nice ass, Bitch,” a mohawed stud grunted, reaching out and casually squeezing the svelte griffon’s behind.

Gallus faltered, reflexively rocking his tush back into the stallion’s strong, meaty grasp. Ever since he’d taken his job, he’d grown increasingly servile - to the point where he often acted without even thinking. A soft giggle escaped him, as the stud’s fingers wandered into the cleft of his behind.

Stars above, there was nothing quite as arousing as having a huge, dominant stallion flirting with him. Feeling a thick digit caress his excitedly winking pucker, a thrilled shiver ran up his spine. He’d only been on the clock for a measly three hours, yet this was the second patron who’d sought to distract him. Momentarily glancing at the bar, seeing a number of customers getting orders for themselves, he found himself at an impasse.

He could and likely should have started clearing tables and serving drinks, yet those were only part of his duties. Though his boss had never expressly said he was supposed to tend to the clientele’s less than savory needs, he’d never once been chastised for leaving the hulking brutes who haunted the bar satisfied with only cocktails. Stepping away and spinning around, he leaned forward and gently caressed the stud’s chiseled jaw.

“Such a charmer - tell me, you got a name?” he sweetly inquired.

“Not like it matters to a cock-slut like you,” the zebra chuckled, watching the sissy’s eyes drift to his groin, “but it’s Buur.” Slipping his hand under the griffon’s skirt, shamelessly fondling the diminutive bulge beneath the snugly-fitted G-string, he grinned. “Does that little clit work, or do you wear that cage because it makes you look bigger than you really are?”

A genuine blush reached Gallus’ cheeks, yet his charming smile remained. “Does that really matter to a bitch like me?”

It was true, he hadn’t used his equipment for nearly half a year. His cage had originally been a suggestion from a patron, denying him any use of his meager endowment and serving as a constant reminder of his inferiority, but he ended up wearing it constantly. As the months passed, with his physique slowly becoming less and less masculine, his prick became a pale shadow of what it used to be. While he’d never been particularly large downstairs, the months of chastity had left him with something more akin to a clit than an actual cock.

“Hah - ya see, this is what I’m talking about,” Buur laughed, slapping the table and looking over at two of his friends. “Little faggots who know their place can’t be beat, even if they can’t get knocked up.”

“Well,” the griffon purred, leaning in and fondling the growing bulge in the stud’s shorts, “you may not be able to put a bun in my oven, but that doesn’t mean you can’t breed me…”

The zebra’s head whipped towards the femcolt, as he grabbed the server’s wrist. “Gonna have to earn that, slut.”

Lifting a hand and flipping the golden-tipped crest away from his face, Gallus locked eyes with the stallion and lazily sank into a deep squat. “Yes, Sir.”

Ignoring the raucous laughter of the small group, as the stud turned his chair to fully face him, he drew his tongue over his beak. There weren’t many places where casual exhibitionism was condoned, yet he was in one of them. Zebricans had a less than conservative view when it came to sexual affairs, viewing them as a basic need and mark of pride, so their establishments tended to be a bit relaxed when it came to lecherous displays.

With his legs lewdly spread, balanced on the stiletto heels on his feet, his eyes wandered down the striped hulk’s broad chest and six-pack to the massive swell at the customer’s crotch. He must have sucked off or been plowed by nearly a hundred studs since he’d started working at the bar - still, the simple act of pleasing one of the glorious creatures never failed to get his blood pumping. Ignoring the din, uncaring of the eyes turning towards him, he reached out, unbuttoned Buur’s shorts, and slowly pulled at the zipper.

Even before the fly was fully drawn open, an ambrosial scent crept to his nostrils. There was no other way to put it, Zebras were just different from ponies; they were bigger, stronger, remarkably forward, and they all knew just what they wanted. If a striped stud found you hot, you’d know it - it was as simple as that. As he gingerly slipped a hand into brute’s trunks, getting his first feel of the mammoth lurking just beneath the garment, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey,” Buur huffed, bringing the femcolt’s attention up to his face, “my friends here don’t mind me getting first dibs, but how about you give ‘em a little something to look at.”

Gallus’ heavily lidded eyes swept across the table, noting the other stallions seated there. He definitely wouldn’t mind tending to each and every one of them, but the establishment really wasn’t geared for gang-bangs. Hoping to get the spectators in the mood, and more than a little excited to show himself off, he grabbed his crop top and pulled it upward. The sound of amused grunts and demeaning words were music to his ears, as he unveiled his modest breasts.

Helping himself, Burr extended an arm and squeezed one of the griffon’s tits. “Damn, girl, you got a nice little rack on ya.”

“Thanks,” Gallus murmured, using his free hand to smack his ass, “but the dark meat is way more juicy.”

Their laughter was all the encouragement he needed, prompting him to continue. Shifting his focus back to the customer’s groin, hoping not to waste any more time, he carefully wrapped his digits around the massive log of stallionhood, withdrew his arm, and pulled the prodigious endowment into the open air. Gazing at what had to be nearly a foot of cock, feeling his pucker hungrily seize upon itself, he shuffled between the stud’s legs.

Opening his beaked jaw and extending his tongue, while he angled the semi-rigid length toward his face, a haze of lust settled over him. Ever since his first experience with a zebra, he found it almost impossible to think clearly around them - especially once things started to heat up. The second things started getting amorous with a striped stallion, he was powerless to stop himself from worshiping them as the sexual gods they were.

Closing with the titanic length, he gave the tip an introductory kiss and slipped the stallionhood into his maw. There were some Zebricans who were a bit anxious to get sucked off by a griffon, and with good reason, but this client clearly wasn’t one of them. Just because he had a beak didn’t mean he couldn’t give a damn good blowjob, and he intended to prove it.

He filed his keratinous jaw down every morning, removing the sharpened edges and point, making the task of orally pleasing another significantly less risky - pair that with all the practice he’d had, only earning himself a handful of slaps or stern warnings, and he’d gotten quite skilled at warming someone up with his mouth. Lashing at the velvety skin with his tongue, issuing a soft groan, he looked up and met the stallion’s eyes. If there was a better vantage to look upon such a handsome creature, he couldn’t think of it.

“Yeah, a bitch like you needs a real dick ~ don’t ya?” Buur mused, leaning to the side and looking at the griffon’s nethers. “Bet you’re already leaking down there…”

“Mmmhmm,” the femcolt hummed, reaching around his thigh to tug at his thong.

Showing off his cage served a dual purpose; for starters, would keep his g-string from getting smeared with the pre-cum leaking from his prick - secondly there weren’t many zebras that didn’t like seeing how small he was. Theatrically bucking his hips forward and back, shamelessly displaying the silver confines of his minuscule package, he withdrew and licked his lips. There’d been a time when he would have been mortified to display himself in such a slatternly fashion, yet that time was a distant memory.

“Shit, I’ve seen mares with bigger clits than that,” the stud continued, his stallionhood growing harder with every passing second. “Good thing you’re a bottom, because you’d never get a girl off with that.”

“Y…yeah,” Gallus stammered, shifting his hand back and plunging two fingers into his ass.

Flexing his pelvis, Buur caused his cock to spring from the griffon’s grasp. “Lucky for you, I got all the cock you’ll ever need. How about you get me warmed up, faggot, then I’ll give you what you want.”

Gallus enthusiastically nodded, stood to his full height, and stepped back. If he was going to get his insides rearranged, it wasn’t going to be while he was squatting down on the floor - with that in mind, he saw no point in switching things up a little bit. Resting one hand on the zebra’s thigh, while the other continued to work his cum-slicked backdoor, he bent forward and crammed the first few inches of Buur’s length down his gullet.

Being watched while suffocating on a fat dick was nearly as arousing as the act of sucking someone off itself, but that wasn’t the best part - the best part was simply being allowed to submit to such a paragon of masculinity. Compared to any Zebrican, he was nothing - no, less than nothing, which made every opportunity to venerate them an honor. Spreading his legs and lifting his tail, giving any and all a view of his well-used backside, he bobbed his head and sought to please the stud.

The taste of sweat and cloying pre-cum, the heady musk filling his sinuses, the sensation of soft flesh against his tongue, and the sight of the giant’s approving smile made his heart skip a beat. He knew his place, that he was barely worthy of being such a divine creature’s plaything, which was exactly why he’d worked so hard to make himself appealing and useful to his lords. He couldn’t say what he would have done if the Zebrican refugees had never come to Equestria, but he thanks the heavens each and every day for being able to serve them.

“That’s right, choke on it, Bitch,” Buur growled, grabbing the lad’s head and forcing it downward.

With a choked gag, leaving streaks of purple lipstick on the stud’s shaft, Gallus felt his throat bulge outward. He honestly couldn’t see how anyone could easily fellate something so utterly huge - then again, he wasn’t complaining. The tinge of discomfort was an exotic spice, heightening his excitement to unbelievable heights.

He made no move to stop the stud, only taking sips of air if and when able, as he was used. Tears streamed down his face, carrying his mascara along with them, yet he was nowhere near finished yet. With only half the length swabbing his gullet, it was anyone’s guess as to when Buur would wish for things to proceed. Cramming a third and fourth digit into his rump, all but fisting himself for the crowd, he lifted his gaze to the stallion’s face.

“Yeah,” Buur growled, locking eyes with the femcolt, “I wanna see how badly you need this.”

Even if Gallus had been able to speak, he wouldn’t have known what to say. As his lungs began to burn, being starved from air by the increasingly sadistic treatment, his throat spasmed wildly. All the eagerness and practice in the world wouldn’t stop him from blacking out, something that had only happened a few times before, yet he persisted in not fighting back. It was only when his vision began to tunnel, with his legs buckling beneath him, did the stud relent.

Rearing back and freeing his airway, praying the patron wouldn’t take it as a sign of disrespect, he weakly coughed. “T…thank you, sir.”

“You ain’t done yet, Bitch,” the titan snarled, reclining and draping his arms over the back of the chair. “Ride it.”

Though the demand was simple and straightforward enough, Gallus was presented with a choice. Either cowgirl or reverse cowgirl would work marvelously, given the circumstances, yet which position would work best. Should he opt to face his partner, giving the throng a view of his soon to be stuffed backside, or should he show everyone just how pathetic his supposed stallionhood was. Wheeling around, he hitched his thumbs over the hem of his skirt and thong.

As he pulled the garments down, doing his best not to smile like an idiot, he put his diminutive endowment on display. Intended or not, the stud’s earlier comment had rung true. Without his cage, his clit stood only barely over an inch long and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten an erection. With his lower half bare, he slipped his top up and over his head.

Extending his arms and squeezing the griffon’s backside, Buur spread the femcolt’s cheeks, eyed the lad’s battered hole, and snickered. “Hope this sloppy cunt of yours is ready, because I’m gonna leave you blown out for the next guy.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t, Sir,” Gallus giggled.

Stepping back and between the stud’s thighs, he reached back and grabbed the towering stallionhood. Buur was definitely on the larger side, and would definitely give him a good stretch, but his ass was already warmed up. Between the dicking he’d received earlier, with jizz and lube still coating his interior, he should be able to handle the big bastard easily enough - if not, he’d have an excuse to get a bit forceful.

The moment the fat, bloated cock-head touched his hole, he swung his hips down and back. His eyelids fluttered, butterflies formed in his stomach, and pre-cum oozed from his cage, but he couldn’t afford to savor it; this wasn’t about him, his pleasure was a mere byproduct of satiating a true alpha. Lower and lower he distended, feeling his insides shift to accommodate the gargantuan intrusion, until he was fully seated on the zebra’s lap.

Wasting no time, knowing he had a duty to fulfill, he spread his legs and hooked his knees over the stallion’s muscular thighs. Experienced though he was, buying himself just a bit of time to acclimate to having the massive appendage sheathed in his rump would make things a bit easier - mercifully for him, his customer seemed more than happy to help. A pair of meaty hands crept around to his chest, twisting and pulling his sensitive nipples, as he gyrated his hips.

“You better start fucking yourself on me, if you don’t want me to put your face in the floor,” Buur hissed.

The small threat, while a tempting offer, was all Gallus needed to get things started. Flexing his legs, unsheathing himself from the girthy root of the stud’s shaft, he started bouncing. Despite being unable to deep-dick himself in the position, the thick medial ring crushing his tender p-spot more than made up for his self-imposed lack of mobility. As he instinctively clenched on his upstrokes, while relaxing on his plunges, he turned his head and smiled to his adoring fans.

If there was one thing that brought out his inner cum-dumster, other than merely being hit on by a striped goliath, it was exposing himself to a crowd. He could practically feel all the eyes upon his unseemly body, hear the lustful thoughts and sinful promises on their lips, and it drove him absolutely wild. All for upping the show, he ran his hands over his face, over his groped bosoms, across the bulge appearing in his belly, and to his crotch.

Just above and to one side of his locked little clit was an investment he’d made barely a month prior. He’d never given much thought to getting a tattoo before, but his love of Zebricans practically demanded he permanently mark himself for them. The small Z of spades symbol was just tiny enough to conceal while he was out and about, but anyone who saw it would instantly know where his sexual allegiances lie.

A buck from the stud beneath him shook him from his indulgent thoughts, spurring him to pick up the pace. “Harder, Daddy!”

With Buur deciding to take a less passive role, his ambitions soared. Getting the stud’s timing down, he synchronized his movements to his lover’s. His plush backside slapped against the stallion’s hips, his pucker was drawn out and stuffed in with every thrust, and the breath hitched in his throat, as he inched closer and closer to his limit. Try as he might not to climax, he simply didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“I’m…I’m gonna…” he wheezed, his efforts to please the stud faltering.

Grabbing the griffon’s shoulders, Buur pulled the femcolt to his chest. “Go ahead, faggot, squirt like the little mare you - Mmmmph - wish you were.”

The mere mention of being a mare was too much for Gallus to handle, pushing him past the brink. With a girlish howl, he shuddered and climaxed. Thin, watery spunk weakly gushed from his cage, dribbling down his coin purse and onto the monstrous shaft pistoning his tush. He would have given anything to be a real girl, if only so he could carry a beautiful striped foal, yet it wasn’t meant to be.

What little strength he had left fled from him, as the stallion took control. Perhaps Buur was excited about literally fucking the cum out of a lesser male, or maybe he had an exhibitionistic streak of his own - regardless of the cause, the titan flew into a frenzy. His shaft pulsed and flared, his hefty balls clenched, and he bit down on the sissy’s neck, as he crossed the threshold.

Gallus’ eyes rolled, and his beak hung open in a soundless scream of rapture, as his depths were flooded with hot, virile seed. Though he’d had an orgasm mere seconds before, the primal desire of the giant would not - no, could not be denied. Overwhelming ecstasy surged through him, threatening to carry him into a nirvanic oblivion, while he struggled to remain conscious.

Of all the things he’d done and tried in his life, submitting himself to huge, striped, musclebound giants resonated most keenly with him. There was no question that he was inferior to them, each and every one, yet embracing that inadequacy had been an epoch. The sun rose and set every day, water ran to the coast, and the weak should serve the strong - such were universal truths that governed the world.

He had no way of knowing how long he’d stayed atop Buur, but when he came to, most of the audience had disbanded. Drunkenly peering down his chest, he wearily grinned. While he may not be able to get pregnant, he could easily pass for a gravid griffon. As he squeezed his aching hole around stud’s softening cock, hoping to appreciate his cum-filled belly, the giant shifted.

“If you’re done milking my cock, how about you get me a drink,” Buur disinterestedly remarked.

Peeking over his shoulder at the stallion, Gallus nodded and unquestioningly obliged. He’d definitely need a quick trip to the restroom, if only to avoid leaving a snail trail of spunk behind himself for the next hour, yet he’d just been given an order. Bearing down with all his might, trapping as much cum as he could within his bowels, he stood up and unsheathed himself from the titan.

As he shakily trotted over to the bar, only stopping to gather up his discarded garments, he smirked. “It’ll be one moment, Sir…” he wheezed. Unfortunately for him, being distracted by his gracious customer, he only managed to take a few steps before bumping into someone. “Sorry, I…”

The words died in his throat, as he saw who was in front of him. Dressed in a pair of boy shorts and a t-shirt, bearing golden hoop earrings, her lavender coat and turquoise coat were unmistakable. Though he hadn’t seen her in years, he instantly recognized the young woman he’d spent his school years with - Silverstream.

His beak flapped, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks, as he shied away. Her eyes wandered up and down his frame, pausing briefly on his leaking cage and spade tattoo, before moving up to his face. If he was very, very lucky, she might not recognize him, considering how much he’d changed since they’d last spoken - sadly, that wasn’t the case. As she locked eyes with him, a look of shock passed over her.

“Gallus?!” she croaked.

His cheeks went flush, as he turned and fumblingly attempted to cover his loins. “H…hey, Silverstream.”

Slipping glimpses at his backside, doubtlessly spying the jizz leaking down his inner thigh, she shook her head. “What in the world happened to you?”

“It’s - uh - it’s a long story,” he breathed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of all the times for one of his oldest friends to show up, this was quite possibly the worst. Even if she hadn’t seen him getting railed out by Buur, it would be impossible to plausibly explain why he was naked, coated in spunk, branded, and with his dicklette locked in a silver cage. It took every ounce of courage he had to smile and nod toward a VIP room at the far end of the establishment, but he managed to pull it off.

“I’ll meet you over there in a few minutes,” he instructed, sauntering to the bar, “just let me get this order and clean up.”

She deserved an explanation, that much was for certain, though he would have to assume she’d think less of him. While zebras were becoming increasingly common, femcolts who debased themselves were typically viewed with disdain. Stopping at the counter and ordering a cocktail, attempting to distract himself from the embarrassment plaguing him, a peculiar detail piqued his interest - why had Silverstream decided to visit a Zebrican club?

Silverstream

It hadn’t taken Gallus long to return and show her into one of the VIP rooms, having hastily gotten dressed and completed his order, but his belly was still obscenely rounded from the load pumped into his depths. He may not have realized it, but she’d seen most of his depraved spectacle that evening. Seated across from him, doing her damnedest not to gawk at the miniscule bulge in his thong, she falteringly smiled over at his face.

“So, yeah, you’re looking - um - good,” she anxiously remarked.

His nervous grin and flushed features told her that her compliment was anything but reassuring, yet he cleared his throat all the same. “T…thanks, you too.”

Unsure of exactly how to address the situation, she nodded. She honestly wasn’t that surprised that he’d gone down such a lecherous path, since he’d been a downright pitiful lover, but discovering that he’d taken the plunge and fully committed himself to the Zebricans had caught her off guard. He’d been the last creature she’d expected to find in the club that night - having said that, seeing him in such a state was thrilling.

She’d never been one to consume much lewd material - that was until she’d stumbled upon an article about sissies. While it was becoming increasingly common for mares to bag big, beefy zebra lovers for themselves, there were a growing number of stallions who followed suit. Forsaking their masculinity, the inferior males took solace serving stronger, more virile studs for their own perverse needs.

Fidgeting in place, keenly aware of her moistening panties, she cocked her head to the side. “I’m guessing you work here?”

“Been here for almost a year now,” he sighed, attempting to pull his skirt down to cover his groin.

“I gotta say, it seems like a pretty wild place,” she chuckled, inspecting the comfy little room around her. The air smelled like alcohol and sex, as if seeing her friend getting plowed wasn’t a clear enough indicator to the hedonism the club touted, and aroma did nothing to quell her budding lust. “Is the pay good?”

“Just cut it already,” he huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms over his rack. “You came here for a reason, and I doubt it was to watch me getting my ass fucked.”

Her smirk broadened ever so slightly, recalling just how glib he could be. “Fair enough - heck, maybe it’s a good thing I ran into you. Since you’re here, maybe you could help me with something.”

Lifting a brow, he stared over at her. “That being?”

“I…I…” she gulped, “I want to get striped.”

“Is that all?” he shot back.

His apathetic reply was more stunning than watching him get bred, leaving her speechless for a moment. “I’m - Ahem - guessing t…that sort of thing happens often?”

“Maybe once or twice a month, yeah,” he smoothly replied, disinterestedly plucking a pube from the corner of his beak. “Hell, I’ve been striped more times than I can count.”

“Really?!” she excitedly blurted, leaning closer to him.

He shrugged and readjusted his top. “Yup. The only reason I don’t wear stripes regularly is because some of our clients prefer to paint them on themselves.”

The revelation that the taboo activity wasn’t all that uncommon made her marehood clench in anticipation. Several of her friends were courting zebra stallions, with one having gone so far as to become an online porn star, and she didn’t want to feel left out. While she was far from what she’d consider loose, only having dated a small handful of times in her life, she long ago learned that getting out of her comfort zone was one of the best ways to grow.

Studying her silently for several seconds, his eyes eventually wandered back to her face. “You got the itch ~ huh?”

“The what?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“The itch,” he repeated. “Heard about how strong zebras are, how hard they fuck, and how they’re better than any other type of stallion. Let me tell you,” he mused, leaning over and pulling his skirt down to reveal his tattoo, “all those rumors are right.”

“Oh,” she chirped, shooting to her feet and tugging at her shorts, “I got one of those too!”

It may have been a bit preemptive, but she’d gotten a spade that was very similar to Gallus’ a month ago. The little mark was discreet enough to hide, while also serving as a bold proclamation for her growing interest in the exotic stallions - sure, she hadn’t actually done anything with a zebra yet, but she couldn’t help herself from seizing the initiative. Peering down at her friend, seeing him scowl, her enthusiasm waned.

“You’re supposed to earn those,” he grunted, pushing himself up, “but I’m gonna fix that, on one condition.”

Though she didn’t remember being taller than him, she squinted down at the buxom, curvaceous failure of a griffon. “What condition?”

“I get to pick him,” he responded. “Trust me, I’ll pick a good one for you.”

Lifting her finger and opening her beak to reply, Silverstream only just caught herself. He’d always been kind and friendly to her, especially when they’d been dating, but something struck her as off. There wasn’t a reasonable stallion on the planet who’d want to watch their ex getting rutted by someone - then again, Gallus really didn’t qualify as a stallion. Rolling the dice and taking a gamble, she stepped forward and cupped his tiny package.

“Is it because you want to watch a real stallion claim me?” she cooed in his ear, feeling him shiver. Waiting several fruitless seconds for a reply, she pressed her attack. “Maybe you can warm him up for me and clean me up after he’s ruined me…”

Though he didn’t speak, his reaction said more than words ever could. Through the sheer fabric of his panties, she could feel his pre-cum against her palm. He’d never been a bad guy, but that was part of the problem. Despite acting tough, Gallus was a total pushover, not to mention his performance in the bedroom had been almost laughable, so it only made sense that he’d embraced being a bottom bitch.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum as hard as you did with that stallion,” she tittered, slipping her hand around his hip and to his behind. “Does that miserable little thing of yours even work?”

“N…no,” he breathed, rocking his hips back.

“I can see why, considering you got a nice pussy to use instead,” she purred, tracing his pronounced pucker with a finger. “So how about you find me a stud and some paint.”

Be darned if she could explain why seeing an inferior male being used, but there weren’t many things in the world that got her blood pumping as hotly. The fact that Gallus had somehow managed to become a feminized cum-dumpster overshadowed her trepidation at being striped, getting her far more worked up than she had any right to be. Withdrawing her hand and stepping back, she licked her slickened digit.

“Just wait right here,” he began, moving to the door, “I’ll go -”

“Nuh-uh,” she interjected, wagging a finger at him. “I want this done on stage, where everyone can see us having fun.”

He paused with his hands on the door, his eyes widening slightly. “Us?”

Trotting past him, opening the door and seeing herself out, she winked back at him. “Someone’s gonna have to get my stallion warmed up, and I know just the perfect little faggot to do it.”

It was her first time at the club, yet she’d noticed a raised platform at the back of the establishment. From what she’d heard and read, a great many Zebricans enjoyed exhibitionistic displays, ranging from stripping to sex itself, so being anointed in front of a crowd would add an extra layer of thrill to the event - that and watching Gallus further debase himself would be cathartic. She didn’t have to include her ex, but having him involved would serve as a decent opening and closing act.

Wandering through the throng, making her way to the stage, she quickly found herself as the center of attention. Everywhere she looked, massive studs eyed her ravenously. If she’d known that they’d be that interested in her, she would have worn something slightly less modest - nevertheless, her plain attire didn’t seem to stop them. Seconds before she reached her destination, a particularly large stallion stepped directly into her path.

“Seein’ as how you’re not hanging from someone’s arm, I’m guessing you’re single,” the goliath chuckled, shamelessly peering at her chest.

“Single but looking,” she fretfully replied, summoning the courage cock her hips and grab her waist band. As she pulled her shorts down, unveiling her relatively fresh spade, she gazed up and into his eyes. “See something you like?”

“All I see is a slut who’s begging for a rough fuck,” he snorted, reaching out and grabbing her right tit. “So unless you want me to drag you into the bathroom and pump a foal into you, I suggest you look somewhere else…”

Withdrawing his hand from her chest, he lowered his arm and invitingly patted his crotch. Silverstream had guessed he was packing some serious heat, given his immense stature, yet she’d underestimated just how well-hung he was. Gazing at the imprint within his pants, seeing it extend nearly to his knee, she gulped. Even her biggest dildo, which had been made from the cast of a Zebrican porn star’s cock, paled in comparison to the stranger’s endowment.

“Tick-tock,” he hummed. “If you don’t want it, I’ll find some other whore to stuff.”

“Silverstream, I…” Gallus cut himself off, weaving through the throng and coming to a halt beside the pair.

“Don’t worry about finding someone,” she noted, reluctantly dragging her eyes off the stud’s loins, “because I just found a volunteer.”

The griffon quickly sized the stallion up, nodded in approval, and stepped forward. “Sir, would you like me to prepare her for you?”

“Go ahead, Sissy,” the giant rumbled, “but don’t take too long.”

Gallus didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing Silverstream’s wrist and guiding her to a small staircase. It wasn’t until she stepped onto the stage that she noticed a small crock and brush in her friend’s free hand. The recognition of what was about to happen to her was as arousing as it was nerve-wracking. Coming to a halt at the center of the platform, just beside a stripper pole, she only then realized that the blaring music and din of the crowd had died.

There was no announcement of the event, nor the slightest bit of fanfare, yet the throng knew exactly what was going to happen. Dozens upon dozens of eyes settled on the hippogriff, studying her with a mixture of lust and derision, as she looked out over the sea of striped faces. At long last, having secretly pined to be claimed by a zebra, she was about to have her dreams fulfilled.

Having quietly set the brush and container of paint down, Gallus moved to her side and began undressing her. It was a slow, sensual process, his hands delicately caressing and exposing her supple flesh, as he removed piece after piece of her clothing. She hadn’t anticipated being stripped, yet she was absolutely drenched by the time he pulled her panties down her long, slender legs.

With her clothes resting in a tidy heap at the very edge of the stage, he retrieved the brush and paint. Knowing what to expect, she offered one arm to the svelte griffon and sheepishly smiled. It was one thing to watch someone get striped on a video, yet that hadn’t prepared her for being in the position herself. With every band that marked her body, tracing over her limbs and across her torso, her excitement mounted.

Giving her one final stroke, painting a black star around her right nipple, Gallus bowed and stepped back. “She’s ready, Sir.”

Thunderous footfalls and a throaty chuckle wrenched her attention to the giant striding up behind her. At some point, possibly while she’d been getting marked, he’d nonchalantly disrobed. Like some primal demigod of fertility, equally beautiful and terrifying, he moved towards her. Her knees grew weak, her mouth went dry, and she’d never been more nervous in her life - still, the sight of the towering colossus caused a bead of nectar to creep down her inner thigh.

Covered in thick slabs of muscle, with a stallionhood that was easily as long as her forearm and as thick as her wrist, he was a sight to behold. Even if there were bigger or more domineering zebras in the crowd, she knew she’d found the perfect one. Unable to look away from his growing length, watching it gradually rise upward, she subconsciously backed into the pole behind her.

“I would ask if you’re ready,” he murmured, stepping closer and caressing her hip, “but I know you’re not. Spread ‘em…”

She didn’t even know his name, yet she lifted her arms, grabbed the pole, and raised her legs from the floor. While she’d always been rather outgoing, locking her ankles on a perfect stranger’s hips, while buck naked on a stage, was easily the wildest thing she’d ever done or may ever do. As he stepped forward, bucking his hips and grinding his length over her slavering nethers, she flexed her legs and drew him in.

“That eager ~ eh?” he grunted, clutching his shaft and bringing the tip to her entrance.

Tearing her eyes off his monolithic appendage, quivering in anticipation, she peeked up at his face. “W…well,” she stammered, feeling the fist-sized head of his cock bearing against her, “I…I wouldn- Gah!?!”

Before she could even finish her reply, with a brutal thrust, he sheathed the entirety of his shaft within her. A combination of pain, pleasure, fear, and joy raged through her, coalescing into an incomprehensible maelstrom of rapture. In that single, violent plunge, having her womb all but crushed by the stud’s tool, she climaxed like never before. Syrupy juices squelched from around his mammoth length, spattering to the hardwood beneath her, as her tongue lolled out of her mouth.

Lost to her bliss, only barely comprehending that she’d suffered through the most cataclysmic orgasm she’d ever experienced, she was woefully unprepared when he started fucking her. There was no gradual buildup, no steady escalation of force - he simply started plowing her with all the subtlety and power of a runaway freight train. Under his mercilessly assault, she gripped the pole at her back for dear life.

“Faggot,” the titan spat, snapping her from her reverie, “make yourself useful.”

Seeing him glancing to the side, befuddled by his words, she looked over and realized to whom he was speaking. Positioned on all fours, lazily crawling around and behind the stud, Gallus drew his tongue over his beak. She hadn’t fathomed he’d get involved while she was getting her brains screwed out, but the stallion’s demand had been absolute. As the little griffon disappeared behind him, with his fingers only barely visible on the stud’s pounding hips, she rolled her head back and whorishly groaned.

As much as she would have liked to watch the femcolt feasting on the stud’s ass, she had more pressing concerns. Somehow, though she’d cum mere seconds before, she found herself teetering on the precipice of another climax. Angling her pelvis up, allowing her striped suitor’s medial ring to scrape against her g-spot, she unwittingly gave the giant an opening.

Stepping closer to her, as he continued to plow her like a field in spring, he grabbed her waist, braced his legs, and drove his stallionhood into her defenseless womb. Her howl of ecstasy cut through the air, rising over the excited shouts and catcalls of the audience. The sensory overload of being violated so savagely, knowing the zebra only viewed her as an outlet for his sexual frustrations, undid her on some fundamental level.

Her legs went slack, her fingers weakly pawed at the pole supporting her, and her vision faded, as she slipped into an oblivion of rapture. Ephemeral glimpses of the world and her surroundings came to her, yet they felt otherworldly. Lost to her bliss, reduced to little more than a living, breathing sex-toy for the primal beast, she could feel herself, her very essence being stripped away from her.

Time became an abstract concept, as she was used. Each orgasm felt as though it chipped away at her soul, leaving her a limp, quivering, squirting mass of limbs in the stud’s grasp. At some point or another, either wishing to change things up or hoping to give the spectators a more compromising view of her, she found herself locked into a full-nelson. Holding her knees to either side of her head, simultaneously thrusting up while slamming her onto his waist, the giant snarled.

Blurry and unfocused, her eyes only barely registered something out of place beneath her. It wasn’t until she felt something warm and soft against her battered lower lips, delicately caressing the shaft reshaping her interior, did she finally understand what was going on. Having unfettered access to her loins, Gallus had crawled around and knelt before her.

The voluptuous griffon’s tongue lashed at her sex and the massive cock despoiling her. Cum-drunk though she was, the lustful look in his eyes was unmistakable. Like a wanton addict, desperate and needy, he lavished the obsidian stallionhood while tugging at his left bosom. The Gallus she’d known was gone, replaced with a shameless slut, and some part of her was keenly aware that she’d follow in his footsteps.

“That’s where he belongs,” the zebra growled, his face beside hers. “Little fags like that could never please a mare like you - not after one of us had our way with you.”

“Y…Yesh,” she slurred, saliva dangling from her chin and dripping onto her swaying breasts.

The stud was absolutely right. To categorize creatures like Gallus with Zebrican stallions was insulting and laughable; it would be like comparing a child’s night light to the blazing sun in the heavens. She wasn’t even upset that her friend had fallen down the rabbit hole - if anything, she felt sorry for him not finding his way sooner. Groaning with each of her lover’s thrust, having the air driven from her lungs, she sensed his length beginning to swell.

As the bloated head of his cock expanded, locking him within her womb, she bit down on her bottom lip. Utterly immobilized, barely able to form a coherent thought, she was powerless to stop him from cumming inside her. As terrifying as the prospect of being knocked up was, knowing full well that it wasn’t a safe day for her, the idea of being bred with a bastard foal, while dozens of strangers watched, was more than her higher functions could handle.

“You want it ~ don’t you?” he hissed in her ear, giving her goosebumps. “You’ll have to tell your parents you don’t know who the father is, because I’m going to make sure you get fucked by at least three other stallions tonight…”

The thought of showing up at Mount Aris with a striped foal evoked yet another climax. She’d always been a bit of an outsider among her people, with most of her kind being reclusive, yet returning home pregnant may strain her family to the breaking point. Clenching around the pulsing length in her painfully stretched cunt, looking over at the wickedly grinning zebra, she silently beseeched him to make her a mother.

“Beg for it,” he grunted.

“P…please,” she brayed, delirious with desire, “cum inside me!”

The titan’s raucous laughter rang in her ears, as he rammed every inch of his length into her. “Take it, Bitch!”

The world seemed to slow, as her senses went haywire. She could feel every vein along his stallionhood throb, as the first shot of his essence rushed through his length. The die had been cast, there was no going back, and she was unprepared for his gift. Rich, potent seed erupted into her, flooding her womb in the blink of an eye, and the experience seared itself into her mind. What little strength she had fled from her, while she watched her abdomen balloon outward.

Billions upon billions of swimmers rushed into her, each questing out an egg to fertilize. It would have been impossible for any but a totally barren female not to get impregnated by such a prolific deposit of foal-batter, so Silverstream was all but done for. Young, healthy, and well into her prime, she’d just resigned herself to mothering a child of the proud Zebrican empire.

She was well aware that zebra stallions could produce an incredible amount of jizz, but watching videos or reading articles about it didn’t do it justice. With one climax leading into another, creating a feedback loop of pleasure, she fought to keep from blacking out. She wanted to remember every second of her time with the stranger, because it was the first night of her new, striped life.

Throughout the crescendo, Gallus stayed kneeling under her. Lapping and suckling away at the spunk leaking from her nearly-corked snatch, he fondled the stud’s hefty balls while playing with his perky tits. It was the perfect ending for a perfectly perverse scene - or so Silverstream had thought. Before he’d even finished cumming, the stallion released her and let her fall to the floor.

Even if she’d had time to react, her limbs failed to obey her. Landing atop her friend, knocking him off balance, she was coated with the final shots of the zebra’s jizz. White ropes of cum settled over the black stripes on her hide, seeping into her fur and making a mess of her coat, yet she wasn’t the slightest bit upset - no, she pined for more. As she attempted to push herself up, she felt the femcolt shift beneath her.

“Come on,” Gallus whispered, righting himself and pulling her into a seated position, “we’re not done yet.”

Unsure of what he’d meant, she got her answer as soon as she looked upward. Towering over them, with his arms folded across his broad, muscular chest, the titan smiled down at them. His semi-rigid length drooped toward the floor, dripping cum and steaming in the hot air, practically begging for affection.

Nodding down at his slickened endowment, the stud snorted. “Clean it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Gallus meekly hummed, inching closer to the titan.

Her limbs felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds, her vision was blurred, and her gaped marehood winked needily at nothing, yet Silverstream obliged him. Moving opposite of the griffon, she rested her cheek against the stallion’s hip and drew a deep breath. The smell of sweat, seed, musk, and her nectar tickled her sinuses, as her tongue sweeped over the girthy base of her lover’s shaft. After what she’d just done, with what had to be nearly fifty club-goers watching her get railed out, cleaning up the mess she’d made felt almost inconsequential.

“If you two lick my nut off of the stage, I might have to bring the both of you home with me tonight,” the giant mused, watching the two lap at his stallionhood. “You make a cute couple, and having a pair of love birds around would be nice.”

Gallus and Silverstream shared a knowing look, fully aware of the cosmic irony of it all. They’d started as friends, briefly courted, drifted apart, and eventually reforged a bond over a mutual love. Situated to either side of his enormous shaft, they shuffled to face one another, locked hands, and hotly made out around the fat cock between them. Humming and locking eyes, they withdrew and kissed.

Though it may only be for the night, their passion for one another had been rekindled in a wholly different way. Gallus was no longer the cocky, pithy griffon he’d once been, and Silverstream was far from the playful, innocent hippogriff of her youth, but neither would have changed a thing. Like so many others in Equestria, and many more yet to come, they’d found happiness at the hands of their Zebrican lords.

Cadance

“Have a good day, Dearest!” Cadance chirped, pecking her husband’s cheek. “I’ll see you this evening.”

Giving her a parting kiss on the tip of her nose, Shining broke the embrace, turned, and marched down the hallway. “Don’t work too hard!”

As she stood in the doorway of their room, watching the stallion trot away and round a corner, she smirked. There’d been a time when she’d genuinely miss his presence, even when he was absent for mere hours, but that time had passed. They both had their duties to attend to, so it simply wasn’t reasonable or practical to expect being beside one another constantly. Closing the door and stepping back into her chamber, she eased herself onto her large, soft bed and made herself comfortable.

Though she loved Shining with all her heart, she’d recently acquired a new distraction - a big, strong, jaw-droppingly exotic distraction. Rolling her head back and closing her eyes, she slipped a hand into her robe and toward her bare nethers. She’d been happy to welcome a mass of Zebrican refugees to the crystal empire, and happier still to employ a dozen in the castle, yet there was one among them who’d earned a special place in her heart.

A resounding banging on the door brought a smile to her lips and her eyes to the entrance. “You may enter…”

The door swung open and a towering figure quietly stepped inside. She’d seen statues that lacked the exquisite detail of her visitor’s build - a build he was all too proud to show off. Standing a head and shoulders taller than most ponies, including Shining, the striped stallion’s body was powerful grace given form. Adorned in the native garb of his people, consisting of a leather loincloth and gold bangles about his frame, the zebra’s lack of attire never proved to be eye catching.

“Good morning, my Princess,” he solemnly stated, sinking to a knee and bowing his head. “How fares the finest pony in the empire this day?”

The rich baritone of his voice sent an excited tingle through her, pairing wondrously with an ache that blossomed in her loins - still, she couldn’t simply lay there and listen to him all day. Clearing her head and waving a hand, she bade him to stand. If what she’d told him was correct, and she had no reason to doubt him, he was once a renown warrior of his tribe, comparable to a royal guard, and his service to her was out of gratitude to her kindness.

“Zafi, please, we’ve been over this,” she snickered, peeking over and watching him rise to his full, imposing height, “you don’t have to be so formal.”

Keeping his head lowered slightly, he stepped closer to the bed. “My apologies, Princess. In the face of such ravishing beauty and unparalleled grace, I am next to nothing.”

Rolling to her side to face him, Cadance rolled her eyes. “You’re far from nothing - you’re my personal attendant and my friend!”

“That I may be -” he countered, glancing at her barely covered bosoms, “nevertheless, I acknowledge your preeminence.”

She paused, considering her words carefully, as her eyes drank in the curves and striations of his broad, powerful chest. He’d been her attendant for over a month, shadowing her throughout her duties from sunup to when she retired every evening, and he’d shown himself to be remarkably good company. Though tacit and a bit solemn, his subtle humor, alluring figure, and comforting words seldom failed to give her comfort.

Lifting her arms over her head, allowing her robe to slip lower and reveal the cerise of one nipple, she feigned a stretch. “There’s something I’ve been wondering about - no, never mind…”

Zafi peaked a brow, looking from her partially exposed breast to her face. “What is it, my Princess?”

“In your tribe, how would a stallion like yourself treat a lover?” she coolly inquired, resting a hand on her hip.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in Zebrican courtship or relationships, yet her question wasn’t purely to sate her curiosity. She’d heard whispers of how amazing zebras were in bed, tales from the castle’s staff and even rumblings of how Twilight, her very own sister in-law, had taken a striped stud as a lover, so finding herself with a large, attractive stallion day in and day out had slowly taken a toll on her reservations. Though she and Shining had long ago agreed to the idea of keeping their relationship open, willing to satisfy themselves with someone else from time to time, Zafi was the first creature in years to catch her fancy.

Crossing to the bed, bearing a welcoming smile, he leaned forward and gently brushed a lock of mane from her face. “Where I am from, a stallion’s mare is their Princess. We cherish our women and do what we can to please them, just as they look after and please us.”

The soft touch of his thick, warm fingers against her caused her pulse to quicken, as she reached up and stroked his arm. “And how would a stallion like you please their mare?”

“Many ways,” he hummed, taking her hand in his stunningly gentle grasp. “Sowing the seed of life within them, protecting them, and ensuring all their needs are met are things to be expected, my Princess.”

“All their needs?” she softly repeated, retracting her hand and bringing it to the front of her robe.

As she pulled the garment open, his gaze wandered downward to watch the fabric slip from her chest. “All their needs, my Princess.”

Though she opened her mouth to speak, she found her voice had left her - not because she didn’t have anything to say, but because she noticed his loincloth steadily beginning to tent. She couldn’t count how many times she’d surreptitiously tried to peek at his goods, only getting a fleeting glimpse here or there, yet she’d never been lucky enough to see what he was hiding - that was until that moment. With his groin nearly at her eye level, she found herself unable to look away from the rising strip of leather.

“Perhaps,” he mused, gently caressing her bare shoulder, “I might be able to demonstrate how we care for our mares.”

With her eyes firmly glued to his crotch, she numbly nodded. “I…I believe I’d like that.”

Turning and trotting down the length of the bed, he stopped at the foot of the mattress. “Before we begin, I need to know one thing - may I touch you?”

“You may,” she blurted, staring down her chest at him.

Sinking to his haunches, ending up in a deep squat, he extended his arms, grabbed her ankles, and slowly dragged her down the mattress. As she gradually moved over the sheets, her robe crept up her body and left her lower half effectively nude. She hadn’t known what to expect from him, yet she would never have guessed he’d be so pragmatic about her flirting and silly questions. Her tush came to a halt mere inches from the foot of the bed, her bare, drooling marehood winking excitedly before his face, while her thoughts ran rampant.

Leaning forward, he nearly pressed his nose to her groin and breathed in her scent. “Like any good meal, making love should start with an appetizer.”

She gnawed her bottom lip, feeling as though her heart may burst from her chest, as he lazily kissed his way up her inner thigh and to her loins. The sight of his mohawk and striped visage between her thighs would have been captivating enough, but the way he locked eyes with her made her feel like a lucky filly on prom night. Cautiously moving her legs, wrapping her calves around the back of his neck, she gave a subtle tug to spur him onward.

He paused, feeling her impulsive attempt to hasten his pace, and smirked up at her. “In that case…”

Moving with a speed that belied his size, he closed his eyes, shot forward, and gave her sex a lick. Maybe it was her imagination, the anticipation of the taboo act elevating the experience, but the sensation of his tongue against her lower lips was enough to make her groan aloud. As she clutched the blanket, raising her waist for the giant, her eyelids fluttered. She was far from inexperience with nearly every variety sex, relishing both giving and receiving it, but Zafi’s ministrations were particularly impassioned.

With her head rolled to the side, fixating on the bliss of his skilled muzzle, she subconsciously pawed at her bosoms. As incredible as it would be to watch him, she couldn’t help but play with herself throughout the opening act. Gingerly teasing her nipples, rolling them between her fingers, she felt his hands glide up her thighs and to her waist. Though she had little doubt that he could bring her to climax purely from eating her out, she yearned to experience what her Zerbrican cousins went through with their big, burly lovers.

She gasped, as his muscular tongue burrowed into her depths and stretched her entrance. She had no way to know how many lovers he’d had, nor did she particularly care, but his oral skills were unparalleled. The way he moaned into her, while he squeezed her hips and pulled her to himself, was staggering, rivaling or surpassing anything Shining could do, and he’d only just begun. Lifting her head and peering down at him, seeing him watching her, she fondled her breasts.

“I’ve - Mmmph - gotta say, you have some lucky mares in Zebrica,” she cooed, her bulging clit winking against his nose.

Running his hands down her frame and to the mattress, he pushed himself up and away. “I’m unsure of that,” he snickered, licking the juices from his lips, “but I am sure of one thing…”

Holding a bosom in each hand, she spread her legs and rested her heels on the edge of the mattress. “Oh ~ and what’s that…?”

“In all my time in Zebrica, I have never met a mare as enchanting and beauteous as yourself,” he rumbled, his sonorous tone making her depths quiver with anticipation. “Shining Armor is a very lucky stallion, and I dearly hope he appreciates you for everything you are.”

“I’m sure he does,” she purred, extending an arm down her torso to shamelessly rub her engorged, drooling sex, “but he’s not here right now…”

She typically wasn’t one to show herself off, and certainly not one to act so brazenly, but it couldn’t be helped. Zafi may not have known it, but his constant presence had taken a toll on her. The way he carried himself, his grace, the raw power he could wield, they were too much for her to bear. If spreading her marehood for him, displaying her interior like a needy harlot, was what it took to rouse his interest in her, so be it.

“Such an alluring sight -” he sighed, lowering a hand to his hip, “one which I find quite inspirational.”

With the tiniest tug upon his waistband, his loincloth fluttered to the floor. Cadance’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropped, and she went still, gazing upon the obsidian pillar standing proudly at his groin. She’d seen more than her fair share of stallionhoods, both before and after wedding Shining, but Zafi’s endowment was an order of magnitude more impressive than any she’d ever laid eyes upon. Covered in coal-black flesh, bobbing in tune with his heart, his vascular length was as gorgeous as it was borderline menacing.

Softly grasping the base of his shaft, he nonchalantly stroked himself and coaxed a bead of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint your expectations.”

While she’d had every intention of taking a passive role, outside of tempting him to take her, seeing his immense package forced her to act. Sitting up and pulling her legs onto the bed, she got to her knees and brought her face to the very tip of his length. As if seeing something so massive wasn’t arousing enough, a delectable fragrance, one she’d only gotten the slightest hints of in his presence, wafted to her nose.

“It…it’s incredible,” she breathed, her trembling hands gracing his dark, velvety skin.

Drawn in by its scent, compelled by some primitive desire to venerate the glorious paragon of virility, she was denied when he grabbed her shoulders and softly pushed her back. A touch of panic gripped her, as she struggled to understand why he’d stopped her. Had she done something wrong? Was he taunting her for some reason? Whatever the case may be, she tore her eyes off his stallionhood and gazed up at his face.

“My Princess,” he began, unhurriedly pushing her onto her back, “forgive my impudence, but allow me to indulge you. Just tell me if things get too intense.”

As the final word left his lips, he straightened up, stepped between her thighs, and draped his length over her groin and abdomen. The heat and weight of his shaft was mind boggling, feeling more like an arm than a cock, and it nearly drove her into a frenzy. She couldn’t imagine how she’d be able to accommodate something so huge, but she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d buried every sinful inch of his godly stallionhood into her.

Inching backward, moving at a snail’s pace, Zafi brought the blunt tip of his length to her entrance. “Deep breath…”

Her jaw went slack, her eyes rolled, and toes curled, as he drove his hips forward and sank his endowment into her. Though she was positively drenched, more turned on than she’d been in years, the intrusion pushed her limits to the brink. A profound exhilaration overtook her, feeling her canal gradually stretched by the behemoth, and she struggled not to impulsively clench around his monstrous shaft.

“Such a magnificent mare,” he whispered, rubbing her abdomen as he delved deeper and deeper still. “Were you not already claimed, I would make you mind…”

His unstoppable plunge only halted when his stallionhood was smashed against her womb, finally allowing her a moment to catch her breath, but it wasn’t over yet. As she lifted her head and glanced downward, she froze. Nearly a full three inches of his length had yet to be sheathed, sitting menacingly just outside her entrance, and she could scarcely believe it. All her experience and skill with lecherous affairs, the wilder things she’d tried with her husband, had all been for naught against such a divine creature.

With no warning whatsoever, eager to begin or perhaps in a bid to humble her further, the stud rolled his hips back, unsheathed a portion of his shaft, broadened his stance, and gave her his first true thrust. No sooner had his stallionhood slammed into her, pummeling her cervix and forcing her entrance open, than she came. Her body stiffened, her stuffed marehood trembled around the girthy intruder, and a guttural, wholly unbecoming groan escaped her, as she was overwhelmed by an onslaught of rapture.

In that moment, with that spontaneous, wholly unforeseen climax, her knowledge of the sexual world was turned on its head. Memories of passionate moments with her husband, times she’d falsely assumed were the apex of carnality, were undone in an instant - replaced by the primal love of her exotic lover. The ecstasy he afforded was so overwhelming, so blindingly intense, that she momentarily blacked out.

A small eternity passed, before she was brought back to the waking world, yet the rapture she’d felt was far from gone. Plowing her with casual ease, driving her body forward with each buck of his hips, he placidly smiled upon her. Panting aloud, only just having regained consciousness, she shakily reached for her crotch.

Zafi’s eyes drifted from her face to her nethers, as he watched her rub her clit. “Am I not enough for you?”

Sensing him slow, she swallowed hard. “N…no - I mean, yes! P…please, don’t stop!”

A sly grin split his muzzle, as he lifted her waist and began rutting her harder and faster than before. “As you wish, my Princess…”

The sensations accosting her were indescribable, leagues better than anything she’d ever experienced with any pony before, yet that was only one facet of the experience. He moved her as though she weighed nothing, the sound of his heavy breaths and sonorous grunts were enthralling, and his bouquet was intoxicating - still, if she had to choose one element to contend with the feeling of being claimed, it was the spectacle. Forcing her eyes open, fighting tooth and nail against the urge to throw her head back and mewl for more, she watched him take her.

His muscles rhythmically tensed and relaxed, their contours made all the more prominent by the sheen of sweat on his coat, while his chest heaved. It was like watching an angel, some heavenly being sent for her and her alone, and she couldn’t look away. Massaging her clit while he pummeled her inner gates, she bit back a whimper. Though she’d just cum, she could feel herself growing closer to another climax.

“Were you - Mmmmmn - mine, I wouldn’t stop with siring a single foal,” he muttered, leaning in and bringing his snout to her chest. “You would be my broodmare, my queen, and I would give you many fine children.”

His pouting lips wrapped around her nipple and suckled upon the sensitive flesh, sending her skyrocketing toward release. Despite having only spoken of it with Shining, her time carrying Flurry had been absolutely incredible. Watching herself grow gravid, her bosoms becoming swollen with milk, was an empowering experience she’d never forget, and she secretly longed to relive it. As she wrapped her legs around his pounding hips, her primordial desire to fulfill her marish purpose crept to the fore.

Unlatching from her teat with a soft pop, he moved his muzzle to the side of her head. “Such a fine mother you’d be, fat with our child and pampered beyond belief. Were you not promised to another, I would bring you back to my village to start a family with you.”

The weight of his nuts slapping her backside, filling the air with a soft drumbeat, made her thoughts run rampant. Though she’d only gotten a glimpse of them earlier, she’d seen enough to know his ripe, furry balls harbored enough seed to knock her up several times over. Constricting her legs around him, losing to her subconscious yearnings, she wrapped her arms around his powerful neck.

“How many children would you bear me?” he mused, fucking her like a machine made flesh. “Four? Perhaps five?”

Sensing him slow, or possibly just fearful that he’d demand an answer, she gulped. “Three. A…at least - Nnnph - at least three!”

“A fine number,” he chuckled, kissing his way up her neck and to her ear. “Three new zebras for my tribe, though I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d eventually want more.”

Wild imaginings of herself in the planes of Zebrica, adorned in little more than a grass skirt, flitted through her mind. She would doubtlessly have a simple life away from the Crystal Empire, a far departure from the grandeur of royalty, but that was of no consequence. Having a family and a loving stallion to protect her and carry on his lineage with her was more important than all the gold and fineries in all of Equestria.

Losing herself to the euphoric fantasy, she could practically feel her fertile body springing to life. She was still young, especially by an alicorn’s standards, and she felt certain she could bear children for centuries to come. As she flexed her legs and constricted her depths around him, milking his shaft with her silken, inner walls, an egg drifted into her womb.

“Harder,” she croaked, teetering on the precipice of release. Laying in direct opposition to her plea, his movements ground to a halt. “W…why did you -”

“Because I’m getting close, my Princess,” he quietly stated, averting his gaze, “and I could never bring myself to sully another stallion’s mare…”

His confession, while admirable, was the last thing in the world she’d wanted to hear. He’d tempted her for weeks, intentionally or not, and she’d only just gotten a taste of what he had to offer. Locking her heels in place, biting back her dismay, she ran her fingers through his mohawk and turned him to face her. There was no way in Tartarus he was going to leave without finishing, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

“Please,” she quietly begged, peering into his eyes, “I need this…”

Moving her head forward, she locked lips with the gentle giant. Either the kiss had been exquisitely timed or she’d gotten immeasurably lucky - whatever the case, he started fucking her like there was no tomorrow. The tenderness of his motions was cast aside, supplanted by bestial desires and a fundamental need they both shared.

With their tongues entwined, sharing each other’s breath, he snaked an arm around her back and held her to his chest. Shining loved her in every conceivable way, she had no doubt of that, but Zafi’s love for her was different, stronger and primordial, and she could see herself falling for the striped titan quite easily. Moaning into his muzzle, she clutched and sank her nails into his muscular back.

She could feel every vein along his throbbing stallionhood, from its impossibly thick root to its flaring tip, as his time grew short. She knew she should push him away, to do anything but have him finish inside her, yet there was nothing she could do. Against her longing to embrace maternity, to give the gift of life to the world, she was totally and completely powerless.

Her cervix flexed with each thrust, straining against his assault, as she broke the kiss and pressed her cheek to his. “D…don’t stop.”

Going all out, using every ounce of strength within his considerable frame, Zafi obliged. Subjected to his unfettered power, holding onto him for dear life, she was unable to stop the full, righteous fury of his zeal. As the breath hitched in her throat, on the precarious cusp of a climax, it happened, his stallionhood bludgeoned through her cervix and entombed itself in her womb.

Never in her life had she been penetrated so deeply and so forcefully before, and she was flung into an orgasmic maelstrom. Her back arched, her eyes went wide, and climactic nectar sprayed from around his pulsing length, as her mind went blank. Doing her damnedest to weather the tumultuous storm of ecstasy, adrift in an endless sea of pleasure, she was woefully unprepared for the heat that blossomed within her.

Some part of her instantly knew he was cumming, that he was sowing his seed deeper and more emphatically than any ever had, and the strength of her orgasm redoubled because of it. A blissful wail and his deep, booming growl of conquest echoed through her chamber, filling the room with their passionate song, as their bodies grew still. She could scarcely believe she’d done something so scandalous with a zebra, let alone one she’d known for such a short period of time, yet she lacked the slightest shred of regret.

“Absolutely incredible,” he murmured, pushing himself up to kiss her cheek.

Tightly squeezing her battered sex, coaxing every drop of precious cum from his shaft, she falteringly smiled. Not only had she made love to someone other than her husband, something she hadn’t done in years, but she’d done so in their very bed. Somehow finding the strength to keep her legs around him, she pecked his nose and stroked his mane.

“You know,” she hummed, walking two fingers up his shoulder, “Shining isn’t going to be back for a few hours, and I’m sure I’d be forgiven for a slight delay in my duties…”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Zafi smirked. “Such a naughty Princess. What will your faithful servants think if they find out you’ve bedded your loyal guard.”

She shrugged and flexed her legs, causing his groin to bump against her. “I’m sure they’d be jealous, but that’s fine with me…”

Drawing him in and closing her eyes, she hotly made out with the stud. She wasn’t sure if he’d actually put a bun in her oven, but she’d be having a roll with her husband that evening regardless. On the off chance she did end up pregnant, and her foal was a zebra, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it - for the time being, she wished for nothing more than to relish the marvelous stallion who seduced her…

Shining

“Don’t work too hard!” Shining shouted, waving back at his betrothed.

Smiling to himself, ready to start a new day, he strolled down the winding corridors of the castle and toward the guards’ quarters. His job wasn’t that difficult, nearly an official do-nothing position, yet he prided himself in ensuring the soldiery was kept in tip-top shape at all times - well most of the time. With the influx of Zebrican refugees, he’d found himself looking after a particularly interesting recruit - one who seemed hellbent on pushing her boundaries with him.

Pushing the troublesome rookie from his thoughts, he rounded a corner and ran face-first into a wall of muscle. Stumbling back and attempting to right himself, he was caught when a powerful set of hands grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward and further off balance. With his head entombed between a pair of soft, pillowy mounds of flesh, only able to make out a black-banded, white coat, he swallowed hard.

“Good morning, Irọyin,” he huffed, his voice muffled by the soft fur against his muzzle.

“Good morning, my Captain,” a sonorous, lilting voice responded, as a pair of large, slender hands pushed him away.

Staring up at the absolute mountain of a woman, he forced himself to grimace. Irọyin was a capable trooper, fast and almost unbelievably nimble for her massive stature, yet she wasn’t without her flaws. For starters, she routinely neglected to don her sanctioned armor, preferring to traipse about with little more than her loincloth and spear - secondly and more alarmingly, she’d developed a bit of a fixation with him. Darned if he knew why, but he could swear she stalked him and tried to evoke his ire.

It would have been bad enough if she strutted about in her native attire, nonchalantly showing off her deliciously toned body for anyone and everyone to see, but that was only part of the problem. Simply put, she had the physique of a warrior goddess, a haughty air that paired perfectly with her jaw-dropping aesthetic, and glittering, sapphire eyes that seemed to see through him. Though he was happily married, adoring and venerating his wife as much as he ever had, constantly finding himself in the amazoness’ presence was insidiously filling his mind with all manner of lustful thoughts.

“Let me guess,” he groused, trying desperately not to stare at her massive, utterly bare rack, “you forgot your armor…”

Her shoulders went slack, her grin faltered, and she scrunched her snout, as she petulantly stepped back and crossed her arms beneath her bosoms. “My Captain, as I’ve explained many times before, that armor is unbearable and a hindrance. If you can fashion me something that will allow me to move freely, fine, I will wear it with regularity - if not, I politely refuse to don that clunky suit you gave me.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his snout. “First of all, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘My Captain’ - just call me Shining like everyone else. The next problem is your wardrobe; I know it’s traditional for you, and you’ve made a few good points, but walking around with…What are you doing?”

“Stretching,” she sighed, lifting her arms above her head while twisting her torso from side to side.

“R…right,” he muttered, tearing his eyes off her bust.

Distracting himself was only a temporary solution for the issue slowly growing in his pants. Try as he might, with her aroma tickling his nostrils, there was nothing he could do to keep himself from being turned on by her. As he attempted to come up with something - anything to say, finding it harder to think than it had any right to be, he failed to notice a pair of long, muscular arms reaching toward him.

“Shining,” she sighed, stepping forward and smashing his face between her warm, heaving breasts, “you seem tense. If I may be so bold, may I make a suggestion?”

“A…a suggestion?” he stammered, craning his neck to peer up at her.

With a smug grin splitting her muzzle, she shifted her hands over his back. “I believe all your recent work with my fellow refugees, of which I’m immeasurably thankful for, has left you a bit taxed. As repayment for your generosity and patience, I’d like to help you relieve some of your stress.”

Something about the way she said ‘relieve’ set his nerves on edge and sent blood coursing to his stallionhood, leaving him at a loss. Truth be told, she’d been dancing through his brain for weeks on end, nearly since she arrived, and he’d even shamefully imagined her while he was getting intimate with Cadance several days prior - nevertheless, he wasn’t sure exactly what she’d meant. Gingerly pushing her away while stepping back, he readjusted his uniform.

“And that would entail…?” he let the question hang, hoping she wouldn’t give some nebulous response.

Inching back and leaning forward, letting her tits hang just before him, she brought her muzzle to his ear. “It’s a surprise - one befitting an illustrious, hard-working stallion such as yourself. If you’re interested, follow me…”

With those honeyed words, she straightened up, turned on her heel, and strutted away. He knew good and damned well that following her would lead to nothing but trouble, that he could and more than likely would be walking right into her big, soft hands, yet he couldn’t help himself. With his eyes glued to her large, foal-bearing hips, watching her ass sway seductively from side to side, he pursed his lips and followed her.

Forsaking his duties, if only to sate his curiosity about what she was scheming, his trip to her quarters was relatively brief. As she saw herself into her room, he walked to the doorway and paused. She was an exception, having a chamber to herself unlike the rest of the guards, yet the sight of her humble abode never failed to fascinate him. Along with the Zebrican art and weaponry hanging from the walls, the aroma of the exotic recruit titillated his senses and sent an excited shiver up his spine.

“Come,” she coolly insisted, pulling a stool from beneath her desk, “sit.”

He nodded numbly and saw himself inside, kicking the door closed behind himself. With a bed resting against the far wall, and a little desk sat against one wall, her room was relatively sparsely furnished, yet he wasn’t concerned about that - no, the one and only thing that held his attention was the giantess idly waiting for him to take his seat. As he eased himself down to face her, hoping he wouldn’t note the prominent tent in his pants, she drew a hand over his shoulder and trotted behind him.

“Tell me, does your wife ever give you massages?” she inquired, digging her thumb into his upper back.

Wincing slightly, reminded of just how much strength she had, he twisted his head to peer back at her. “Sometimes, but it’s not that often.”

“Such a shame,” she sighed, bringing her hands up his neck to caress his scalp. “A mare’s place, regardless of her rank, should be to satisfy her stallion in every imaginable way.”

Without any warning whatsoever, she stepped forward and gingerly rubbed his temples. Though her fingers against him felt nice, an issue immediately presented itself. A balmy heat radiated against the base of his skull, followed immediately by the most ambrosial aroma he’d ever known. Strong and wildly captivating, the bouquet of her nethers was a siren’s song that the primordial portions of his mind instantly recognized.

With his self-discipline buckling under her feminine wiles and glaring lack of subtlety, he steadily got to his feet and turned to face her. He had no doubt of what she was after, having caught her eyeing him in the gym and having weathered her overtly flirtatious behavior since she’d enlisted, and he was about to give her just what she wanted. Though he’d tried to retain his flawless record of fidelity to Cadance, despite he and his betrothed’s agreement to remain open to seeing others, his limits had been tried and found wanting.

The meek professionality of dealing with her in public was gone in a flash, replaced by his true self. To have others openly watch him reciprocate her advances would have been less than ideal, creating drama and rumors he’d rather avoid, but that was no longer a factor. Away from prying eyes, safe and secluded within her room, he could finally repay her for all the salacious harassment she’d heaped upon him.

“And what would a Zebrican stallion do for his mare?” he asked, reaching out and brazenly slipping his hand beneath her loincloth.

“Our - Mmmmm - stallions ensure we fulfill our purpose. No matter if we are farmers, seamstresses, shamans, or warriors, our chief duty is to strengthen and grow our tribe’s ranks,” she purred, bucking into his hand.

The heat and dampness against his fingers, feeling the velvety flesh of her plump lower lips sundered his restraint and fanned the flames of his lust into a roaring inferno. Shuffling back and withdrawing his arm, fighting the urge to toy with her, he licked his digits. There was only one reasonable thing to do with a powerful, motivated woman like Irọyin, and it wasn’t playing coy.

With the citrusy flavor of her marehood dancing on his tongue, he loosened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. “Strip…”

“Yes Sir,” she chuckled.

With but a pluck at the string securing her loincloth, the strips of leather covering her groin fell to the floor. Though there wasn’t much that was uncovered, the dark, hairless mound of her groin was more alluring than he could have predicted. Stepping back and resting her shoulders against the wall, she spread her legs, drew a hand down her abdomen, and spread her sex. The sharp contrast of her meaty pink interior against her coal-black flesh was staggering and more than enough to make his stallionhood practically ache with desire.

As his pants and boxers fell around his ankles, he grasped the root of his length and brought his attention to her face. He couldn’t say how he stacked up to Zebrican stallions, but the lustful look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Hastily pulling his shirt up and over his head, leaving him on the same nude playing field as his gracious, oversized host, he crossed to her and grabbed her thighs.

As she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, her heavily lidded eyes flew to his face. “As pleased as I am to be of service, perhaps we should - Wha?!”

With all the speed he could muster, he dropped to his knees, crammed his snout to her crotch, and drew his tongue between her lower lips. The taste of her nethers and her musk were downright overpowering, almost strong enough to give him a moment for pause - almost. With his fingers on her hips, he closed his eyes and hotly made out with her drooling snatch.

“G…goodness,” she bleated, hooking a leg over his shoulder to lock him in place, “Farasi
rarely gratify majike in such a way - n…not that I’m complaining!”

Humming into her depths, he feasted on her loins. Unlike many of his fellow stallions, he had no qualms about getting a lover nice and worked up before the main event. Making out with her marehood, pressing his tongue into her silken canal, he relished the assault on his senses. On top of having a much stronger taste and scent than his wife, let alone any mare he’d been with, the way she bucked into his face filled him with a righteous tenacity.

Staying where he was, alternating between fixating on her clit to probing her depths, he waited for just the right moment to relent. Much like sex, foreplay was an art in and of itself, requiring practice, patience, and perseverance to become adept, and he was practically a master. It wasn’t until he felt her thigh trembling against him, hearing her hitched, heavy breaths above, that he pulled back, rose to his full height, and licked his lips clean.

“Now then,” he whispered, his hands gliding to the back of her thighs, “let me show you what your Captain can really do…”

Calling upon his magic, while simultaneously using every ounce of strength he had, he lifted her and shot between her parted thighs. She likely presumed that they’d move to the bed, which would have been both convenient and comfortable, yet a show of force was called for. After her relentless torment, teasing him ceaselessly both on and off the clock, he was going to show her what he was capable of.

Her marehood eagerly winked against him, practically begging to be filled, as she ran her fingers through his mane. “Would you rather we move to the bed?”

“I think we’re fine right here,” he grunted, driving his hips forward and plunging his stallionhood into her snatch.

Her whimper of delight, only stifled by her gnawed lip, was almost as heavenly as the incredible sensation of her depths. Hotter than a sweltering jungle and as unbelievably juicy, her snug depths covetously seized around his shaft. While he’d expected her to be relatively loose, given her sheer size, he was pleasantly surprised that wasn’t the case.

With the tip of his shaft kissing her womb, she snapped her legs around his hips like a bear trap. “Such a domineering stallion. It’s no wonder you were able to claim a Princess.”

The flagrant reminder of his infidelity did nothing to quell his desire to sate her, to conquer the amazoness and show her what he could do, so he merely withdrew a portion of his slickened length, grabbed ‘hold of her sculpted ass, and began rutting her in earnest. He could get laid whenever he wanted, what with having a nearly insatiable wife, but the excitement of bedding someone new, especially someone so much bigger than himself, was unbelievably arousing.

Flexing her legs with each of his thrusts, lending him a touch of her power, she cupped her tits in her hands. “Right there,” she rasped, clenching her sex with his backstrokes.

Keeping her pinned in place, he altered the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly. One benefit of being with the Princess of Love was that his carnal knowledge was on an entirely different level compared to most stallions - as such, he felt reasonably sure that he could please any female lucky enough to successfully seduce him into amorous action. With his stallionhood battering her inner gate, his thick medial ring ground against her g-spot and elicited a throaty moan.

The sound of her groaning would have been enough to excite any stallion, yet the meaty smacks of their colliding bodies mirrored his pounding heart. Though Cadance was impeccable between the sheets, bedding his wife had become increasingly dull over the years - sure, he’d always enjoyed himself, but the novelty of being intimate with her had long since faded. Plowing the giantess was new, fresh, and delectably thrilling.

Pleasing Irọyin made him feel as though he was a paragon of masculinity, an apex stallion, and he relished the sensation of getting her off. Though he’d only heard about how virile and assertive zebra studs could be, he felt certain he could give any one of them a run for their money when it came to pleasing a striped mare. Smiling to himself, taking pride in the accomplishment of satisfying her, he increased his pace.

Situated as he was, it was hard to fixate on any one facet of the titan. The sight of her playing with her breasts, teasing and pulling her luscious, rock-hard nipples, paired wonderfully with her blissful expression, yet watching her marehood being drawn out and stuffed in with his plunges may have been the single hottest thing he’d seen in his life. As he set his jaw and held her steady, his muscles and sorcery strained by her considerable weight, he breathed in the smell of her sex.

“Once we’re - Mmmph - done,” he grunted, his groin growing wet with her juices, “I trust you’ll keep this little tryst a secret.”

As extraordinary as she was, he couldn’t have news of their little affair getting out. It would be exceedingly unbecoming for a captain to be fraternizing with someone under his command and he’d rather not deal with subversion within the ranks of royal guards. As she constricted around his pistoning length, her low, ominous giggle tinged his enjoyment with unease.

She paused, her motions coming to an abrupt halt, as she cocked her head to the side. “And if I don’t…?”

He hadn’t anticipated a reply, much less a defiant one, so he pounded into her harder and faster than ever. His attempt to silence her worked a little too well, leading her to drape her torso over him and press her chest to his muzzle. Bearing her full weight, without the wall behind her to support her in the slightest, he channeled more power into his magic.

“Such an amazing creature,” she reverently murmured, clutching his glowing horn in one hand. “I’ve bedded many stallions in my homeland, but never have I met one with the level of conviction you hold. The foal we sire will be a gift from the heavens.”

Her declaration nearly brought his movements to a dead stop. While he’d only had the slightest hesitation about fooling around with her, he hadn’t held any intention of actually knocking her up - still, the thought of giving Flurry a little half-sibling tickled a latent part of his id. As he found himself suddenly grappling with his stallionly urge to sow his seed, yet knowing fathering a child with anyone other than his wife would create all sorts of drama, Irọyin struck.

With the speed and savagery of a pouncing cougar, she threw a leg back, kicked against the wall, and sent him reeling backward. Keeping her aloft had been a trial in and of itself, but having her swiftly and quite forcefully throw her weight upon him proved too much to handle. Crashing onto his behind with a dull thud, momentarily disoriented, he looked up in confusion and found her wolfish smirk mere inches from his face.

He wasn’t sure what was more impressive, the fact that she’d so deftly sent him onto his ass or that she’d managed to remain impaled on his length. With the tables well and thoroughly turned, his head twisted to peer up at her, she laced fingers with him, reared back, and seated herself on his lap. The view he’d had while standing was phenomenal, yet seeing her resting on his groin, triumphantly wiggling her hips from side to side, was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

“I - Aaaaaahn - hope you take responsibility, because we are not stopping until you’ve given me your heir,” she huffed.

With her knees to either side of his rib-cage, she steadily raised her waist, unsheathed all but the very tip of his cock, then slammed her rump upon him. The force of her downward plunge was nearly enough to drive the wind from his lungs, causing his hips to groan under the burden, as she lifted and dropped her tush a second time, then a third and a fourth, until she was riding him like a behemoth cowgirl.

Swiftly collecting himself, he lifted his legs and braced his feet against the floor. There was no way in tartarus he was going to be bested by a fresh recruit, not to mention a mare, and he was going to prove it. Twisting his arms and pulling her forward, as he rammed his hips up as hard as he could, he wrapped his lips around an obsidian nipple and gently bit down.

Her rapturous cry and shuddering frame were encouraging to a fault, bolstering his strength like a heady tonic. She may have outclassed him in sheer muscle mass, yet he had sorcery on his side. Calling upon his sorcerous power, he augmented his strength and vehemently pounded into her from below. He may have been knocked down, but he was far from throwing in the towel.

Like two mismatched animals locked in combat, the pair went at one another with increasing speed and force - unfortunately, as minutes of furious fucking passed, Shining was swiftly outclassed. Though he’d maintained his training to a degree, the opulent lifestyle of being married to a Princess pushed his physique and arcane powers to the breaking point. Covered in sweat, with his hips and legs aching, his efforts to best her were tried and found wanting.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” she chided, mercilessly screwing herself on him. “I told you we - Nnnnph - weren’t stopping until you’ve made me a mother to be!”

The twofold combination of her ruthlessness and being overpowered wrought havoc upon him. He’d been brutally subdued after succumbing to her seduction, savagely held down and reduced to little more than a sex toy, and he absolutely loved it. Begrudgingly yielding, he surrendered to the unremitting ecstasy which threatened to overtake him.

Rocking back and placing her hands on his knees, allowing him to fully appreciate her huge, sweat-slickened body, she milked his cock like a seasoned veteran. “Admit it, you’ve always wanted this - a mare who can rival you in the bedroom.”

She was right, there was no refusing it, yet he was hesitant to confess it to her. Her imposing stature, magnificent build, and gorgeous body were awe inspiring, the sort of things he dreamed about with a mare, but her personality - by Celestia, her personality was the icing on the cake. The snarky humor and dedication to her martial prowess she displayed were as inspirational as they were endearing, having done nothing but grow his fondness for her.

Wrestling his hands free, realizing she was allowing him some sliver of freedom, he grabbed her hips. “I…I do…”

“Good,” she sighed, hilting him and coming to an abrupt halt. “Once we’re finished here, you will visit me every morning before inspection ~ is that clear?”

“Y…yes,” he wheezed, teetering on the brink.

He’d never thought he’d encounter a woman as domineering as Irọyin, yet it was as if the heavens had opened and delivered her just for him. She’d defeated him physically and mentally, being humbled by her might and seduced by her femininity, now she sought to break his spirit - an act he would have thought impossible had he not found himself utterly enamored with her. While it was rare, he’d fantasized about being subjugated by a mare; had he known a veritable goddess one would literally wind up in his lap, he would have spent more time preparing.

Forcing himself to move through force of will alone, he bucked into her. Either due to her amusement or the exhilaration of his meager attempt to continue, she set upon him with blinding speed and inexorable force. She was the embodiment of passion, a distillation of irrepressible fertility, and she would have what she wanted. As he ripe, furry balls, filled with virile seed, snuggled up to his groin, his stallionhood flared.

With her final plunge, entombing the entirety of his shaft within her depths, he reached his limit. As he threw his head back grunted weakly, she brayed out and coated his hips and lower abdomen with her climactic nectar. Wading into the waters of ecstasy alone would have been delightful, yet having her cum alongside him made the experience all the more divine.

Locking eyes, they heaved air into their chests and stared at one another. Judging from how hard her climax had stuck her, judging from her reaction, she’d enjoyed the encounter just as much as he had - nevertheless, there was something he had to do. Reinvigorated by his release, he called upon the dwindling reserves of his sorcery, heaved himself at her, and toppled her onto her back. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to be able to upend her - that said, he was overjoyed to seize the reins from her unyielding grasp.

“If you want a foal,” he panted, flexing his groin and causing his length to harden, “you’re going to learn your place, Cadet.”

As glad as he was to have a lecherous nemesis, one who was all too happy to pit herself against him, he couldn’t bring himself to be her plaything. No matter what it took, be it more time in the gym, studying her to find her weaknesses, or merely being exceptionally forceful with her, he would find some way to earn her respect. Burying his shaft and nudging her womb, he came to a startling conclusion - if making her a mother was what it took to triumph over her, so be it.

Her squeal of delight was all the encouragement he needed, as he began their second round. He was late for his shift, Cadance was probably whiling away her time in the throne room, and the soldiery would probably start questioning where he was, but those things didn’t matter - heck, nothing mattered more than asserting himself over his newfound mistress. With his turgid stallionhood hammering into her cum-slickened depths, balancing himself on one arm, he reached forward and pulled her into a kiss…

Moondancer

Moondancer’s eyes wandered back and forth between the striped behemoth’s broad, powerful chest and handsome face, unsure of which she found most attractive. She’d done it - she’d actually managed to coax a zebra out on a date - sure she’d ultimately resorted to one of those cheesy dating sites, almost expecting it to be some sort of a scam, yet she’d spent the better part of an hour sitting across from him. Grinding her thighs together, reminded for the umpteenth time of how drenched her panties were, she contentedly sighed.

“And what about yourself?” he asked, snapping her from her lecherous thoughts.

She blinked, unsure of what he’d been saying for the last few minutes. “Oh - uh - I’m nothing special,” she meekly replied, praying her nebulous answer would go unquestioned.

Ṣamani was the most beautiful stallion she’d ever seen, the sort of stud she’d fantasized about since she was a filly, yet he was not at all what she’d expected. Instead of some boorish, simple-minded beast of a hunk, he was well-mannered, articulate, and exceptionally intelligent - so intelligent that he may give her a run for her money in the academic arena. While she’d hoped for nothing more than to hook up with a beefcake and get fucked into a coma, something Zebricans were supposedly renown for, she found herself having an honest to goodness romantic date.

He peaked his brow and peered down at his chest. “Is there something on my shirt?”

“N…no,” she replied, her cheeks darkening. “I…I was just - um - it’s just that…”

Sweet Celestia, she couldn’t even think straight. After so many years of staying by her lonesome, only having her hands and her small armory of amorous sex-toys to satiate herself, simply being near the adonic stallion had reduced her to a muttering, fumbling, awkward mess. If the influx of Zebricans into Canterlot had never happened, she’d more than likely be spending the night by herself with a steamy romance novel, her favorite dildo, and maybe a small tub of ice cream - fortunately or unfortunately for her, the exotic entourage that had trickled into town had pushed her try and find a big, banded stallion for herself.

She couldn’t count how many stories she’d read about zebras’ sexual prowess, and she’d lost track of how many striped videos she’d furiously gotten off to, but it wasn’t until she’d heard that none other than her trusted friend, Twilight Sparkle, had begun dating a striped stud that she’d been forced to act. If the Princess of Friendship, one of the most socially awkward ponies she’d ever known, could bag a Zebrican, there shouldn’t be anything stopping her from finding an exotic coltfriend for herself. For all intents and purposes, she was a healthy young mare, a bit slim and with zero sexual experience, but there was nothing wrong with her - well, aside from being a hopeless virgin and having zero romantic experience, nothing overtly wrong.

“Just what?” he pressed.

The concerned and slightly frustrated look on his face demanded she reply, so she drew a breath and attempted to collect herself. “Just t…that I thought -”

“Let me guess,” he cut her off, pinching the bridge of his snout and shaking his head, “you presumed I would be some uneducated, oafish brute who’d whisk you off your feet, drag you into a back alley to have my way with you?”

Her jaw flapped uselessly, a cold pit formed in her stomach, and her blood ran cold. Had it been that obvious ~ had he figured out that she’d agreed to meet him just to get her v-card punched by a zebra? She squirmed and averted her gaze, keenly aware of how beet red she must be, and nodded. Given how perceptive he was, she saw no point in trying to lie to him - after all, it was bad enough that he’d discerned her intentions.

Pushing himself away from the table, retrieving and placing enough bits on the bill tray to cover their meal, he stood and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work…”

The moment he turned his back to her, panic struck her. She’d been so close, so insanely close to the hottest stallion she’d ever met, but she’d ended up fumbling at the finish line. As he walked away, trotting past various tables and toward the exit, she bolted to her feet and chased after him. Overwhelmed with shame, guilt, and a healthy dose of fear, realizing that she couldn’t let him get away without explaining herself, she chased him out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.

“Wait,” she bleated, catching his arm and futilely pulling on his sleeve, “let me explain.”

“What more do you have to say?” he pulled his arm away, peering down at her with a mixture of pity and disdain. “You assumed I was some -”

“I…I’ve never dated anyone before ~ ok?!” she blared. “I’ve spent my whole life reading books, studying, and practicing magic, but I -”

“You jest,” he interrupted, his eyes wide with surprise. “An attractive young mare like yourself has to have had at least a few coltfriends in her day.”

She opened her mouth to respond, yet his remark had rendered her mute. Attractive - he’d called her attractive! Not only had he casually complimented her look, but his shocked expression spoke to the fact that he was surprised to hear of nonexistent romantic life. Forcing herself to gather her thoughts, she straightened up, gave him a nod, and stared him dead in the eyes.

“It’s true” she mumbled, feeling a cold bead of sweat roll down her brow, “not like I’m proud of it though. I’m hopeless, awkward, and I’ll probably die a virgin, but -”

He uneasily smiled and momentarily glanced down to bust and the peek of cleavage her top afforded. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg!”

Her temper flared, the sheepishness that had dominated her life being eclipsed by annoyance, as she scrunched her snout and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not - I mean, yeah, I have a few toys at my apartment, but what single mare doesn’t?”

“How many?” he inquired.

Mere moments from replying, she pursed her lips. “None of your business, Mister!”

“And are any of them big and black?” he continued, his sonorous tone sending a shiver up her spine.

“M…maybe,” she sputtered, her snatch reflexively seizing upon itself. “Ok, yes, so I might have two or three like that, and maybe I’m really into zebras ~ can you blame me though? Just look at you - you’re gorgeous, nice, and…” she trailed off, only then noticing a sizable swell lurking beneath his right pant leg.

He leaned forward and brought himself to her eye level, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And?”

“And I was really, really hoping you’d come back to my apartment,” she dejectedly whispered, shamelessly confessing her hopes for the evening.

“How about this ~” he rumbled, rising to his full, imposing height, “I’ll walk back to your place with you, we can have a cup of tea, and we’ll see how things go from there. I don’t want you to get the wrong intention, because I am not some walking stereotype, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little interested now that certain mitigating factors have come to light.”

She could scarcely believe her ears. Not only had he agreed to accompany her to her apartment, but he’d said he was interested in her. In spite of there being no guarantee that he’d bend her over and utterly destroy her cunt, he’d given her a glimmer of hope. Offering her hand to him, she allowed his meaty digits to gingerly lace with her fingers.

“Deal,” she resolutely stated, turning and beginning to march in the direction of her apartment.

Their walk, while short, was pleasant and filled with conversation. It was true that she’d hardly been able to pay attention to him in the restaurant, yet that changed on their stroll. Maybe it was the adrenaline flooding her system, or perhaps it was the fear that she’d lose her shot at bagging the beefcake’s interest - whatever the case may be, by the time they reached her door, her tension had eased.

Having unlocked and turned her back to the door, she faced him and lifted her hands. “I wasn’t expecting company this afternoon, so please excuse the mess.”

“I won’t say a thing,” he chuckled, clasping a hand to his chest and giving a curt bow.

As she opened the door, revealing her living room and a peek at her kitchen, she held her breath. If things had gone the way she’d planned, she would have spent the night in a hotel or potentially in some stud’s bed - unfortunately for her, given the wholly unexpected turn of events, her slovenly lifestyle was laid bare. As she dashed through her door, leaving him in her wake, she glanced back at him.

“Make yourself comfy,” she shouted, remembering that she’d left a dildo in her bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”

Living by herself came with a number of benefits and drawbacks. On one hand, she didn’t have to worry about keeping her palace spick and span, she was free to wear whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, and she didn’t have anyone nagging her to do dishes regularly - on the other, it was fair to call her abode a bit of a sty - not egregiously filthy but certainly on the messy side. As much as she would like to clean up and make her home presentable, she had to prioritize concealing anything too scandalous for her unforeseen guest.

Stashing the sex-toys from her bathroom under her bed, she heaved her dirty laundry into her closet, tidied up the sheets on her mattress, and hid the oversized zebra pinup plastered on her bedroom wall. It was as plain as day that Ṣamani wasn’t all that appreciative of the reputation his kind had accrued, so she was going to do everything she could to ensure she didn’t rub him the wrong way. Scanning her chamber one final time, she grinned, straightened her dress, marched back into the living room, and froze.

The sight of the stud lounging on her sofa should have filled her with glee, yet that wasn’t the case. Reclined on her cough, holding up an issue of Striped magazine, he studied the pornographic publication with an unreadable expression. She momentarily considered defenestrating herself, abandoning her apartment in exchange for a hospital bed - regrettably, she was never given the chance. His eyes swung over to her, as he turned the issue around to display a pinup of a nude zebra stallion.

“I have to say, they do have some rather tasteful photos in here,” he placidly remarked.

Swallowing hard, she twisted in place. “Y…yeah.”

He stretched his arms over his head and turned slightly, resting his legs lengthwise across the sofa. “So what would you have done if you’d walked back in here and found me posed like that?”

“I…I…” she faltered, feeling her nipples stiffen against her bra. “Is this a trick question?” she quipped, peering over at his face. Not saying a word, he shook his head in response. “Honestly, I’d probably fall to my knees and worship you like a god.”

“I’ve heard about ponies like you, particularly mares who longed to be with an exotic stud, but the fact that you’re a virgin is frankly surprising,” he mused.

“Heh ~” she weakly laughed, giving a shrug, “girls gotta dream big.”

His eyes played over her, almost as if they were trying to peer through her attire, before they settled on her face. “I have a proposal,” he began, thrusting a hand into his pocket, “since this would be a first for both of us, how about we scratch each other’s backs. You’d be my first pony mare, I’d be your first - well, I’d be your first anything, so we’d both have something to gain from it.”

A tumultuous combination of emotions washed over her, yet excitement clawed its way above the rest - nevertheless, she couldn’t make herself out to be some desperate, needy strumpet. She cocked her hips and adjusted her glasses, feigning to stew on the matter for a moment. As much as she would have liked to pounce on him and rip his clothes off, she had to take her time.

“Who makes the first move?” she inquired, genuinely curious to hear what he had to say on the matter.

Thoughtfully rubbing his chin, he gazed up at the ceiling. “Given that you were so forward and honest, both traits which I find admirable, I’ll allow you to, as you so eloquently put it, worship me,” he casually responded. “But,” he hastily added, leveling a finger at her, “I want you to strip for me first - consider it a test of your perseverance.”

With her anxiety skyrocketing, she warily met his eyes. “I’ve n…never stripped for anyone before…”

“That’s fine,” he countered, dismissively waving a hand. “With a body like yours, you’d have to try to make yourself unappealing - besides, you’re just my type. Just keep your eyes down here if you’re nervous,” he hummed, patting his crotch and the behemoth lurking under his slacks. “Trust me, this will let you know if you’re doing a good job inspiring me.”

Her mouth began to water as she eyed the bulge in his pants. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to please the dreamboat loafing on her sofa, but being asked to undress in such a casual way took her off guard. Steeling her resolve, trying and failing to calm her pounding heart, she reached behind herself and unzipped the back of her dress.

She’d seen women strip in pornos before, so she had some idea of what was expected of her - that said, seeing something and doing something were worlds apart. As the silken garment slid down her shoulders and exposed the straps of her bra, she took his advice - she kept her eyes glued on his loins. Slowly, revealing inch after inch of her creamy coat, the article crept over her bust, down her abdomen, and eventually past her hips, before falling down her legs to the floor beneath her.

“Exquisite choice of undergarments,” he purred, staring at the white lace panties clinging to her nethers.

“T…thanks,” she stammered, igniting her horn and unclasping her bra.

Awkwardly shifting and slipping her hands from her brassière, holding the garment to her chest with one arm, she hooked a thumb over her panties and started wiggling her hips - at least she started to. Hearing him clear his throat, she reluctantly glanced over to his face. His charming smile and heavily lidded eyes were like something from a wet dream, captivating her like nothing ever had.

“Turn around when you take those off,” he softly instructed, lifting and spinning a finger. “I’d like to see all your assets.”

She instantaneously complied, wheeling around and leaning forward without a moment’s thought. The entire scenario was like something from a dirty blog post - that or a lewd fanfiction, but she wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Though it took her a moment to drag her underwear down her legs and past her knees, ultimately letting the garment drift to her feet, she was too worked up to care that her fat, completely bare ass was leveled at the paragon of masculinity resting on her sofa.

“There,” she huffed, “I hope you’re…”

The words died in her throat as she straightened up, turned around, and saw what her visitor had been doing while she’d disrobed. Without a care in the world, the giant nonchalantly stroked the most magnificent cock she’d ever laid eyes on. Long and extraordinarily thick, looking to be as large as her forearm, his midnight-black stallionhood was everything she could have dreamt of. All her fears, concerns, and apprehensions evaporated in the blink of an eye, replaced with the unbridled lust of a mare who’d only ever fantasized about being in the same room as such an awe-inspiring specimen of a stud.

Lust-crazed beyond all reason, still holding her bra in place, she crossed the gap between them and reverently fell to her knees beside the couch. She could scarcely believe she’d be so lucky, having her wildest and most scandalous imaginings made manifest, yet the stallion before her was as real as the stars in the night sky. She reached out with trembling hands, trying unsuccessfully to wrap her slender digits around his gargantuan length, and nearly came simply from touching his endowment.

“C…can I suck it?” she breathed, summoning the courage to tear her eyes off his package and up to his face.

He dipped his head and flexed his groin, causing his shaft to jerk in her grasp. “You may.”

No sooner did the two words pass his lips than she leaned forward and pressed her snout to and into the opening of his pants, planting her nose between the base of his stallionhood and the massive balls. As she drew a breath, flooding her nostrils with the divine scent of his lust, something snapped within her. Trembling from head to toe, obscenely squirting nectar onto her carpet, she was stricken by a climax.

Bolting upright, he peered down at her. “Did…did you just cum?”

“Y…yeah,” she giggled.

She dragged herself onto the couch, forsaking her brassière, and straddled his knees while she buried her face back in his equipment. Too excited to care about or question the fact that she’d just weathered a spontaneous climax, her thoughts dwelled on one thing and one thing alone - getting him warmed up. So help her, if it was the last thing she did, she was going to get her muff absolutely stuffed by the big bastard.

Dragging her tongue up his length, coating her taste buds in the salty, earthy flavors of his cock, she gradually worked her way up to the tip of his length. Even her biggest dildo, one she saved for special occasions, seemed downright modest compared to his stallionhood - a fact that, though slightly terrifying, made her giddy. As she brushed a lock of hair from her face, she opened her mouth as much as she could, forced her head down, and crammed him into her maw.

She could swear her jaw was going to unhinge, cognizant thought was a distant memory, and she thrust a hand down to her crotch, yet she couldn’t have been happier. Like a filly on Hearth’s Warming morning, she’d just received the greatest present of all - still, she was aware that the best was yet to come. While she unabashedly fingered her drooling snatch, plunging four fingers into herself, she bobbed her head and did what she could to please him.

“You don’t - Nnnf - need to rush,” he hissed, wincing down at her.

Withdrawing with a quiet pop, his tone and expression cutting through the blissful haze fogging her mind, she pouted. “Is…is everything ok?”

He forced a smile as he reached down and gently caressed her cheek. “Teeth…”

She balked, both ashamed and angry with herself for forgetting something so basic. While she had fellated her sex toys before, often with her eyes closed while fantasizing about them being attached to a stud, she’d been unable to get any feedback from the sculpted silicone. Speechless and with her trepidation roaring back to the fore, overtaking her libido, she awkwardly stroked his shaft with her hand.

“I c…can try again,” she murmured, peering down at his dick.

Shaking his head, he grasped her wrist. “If you insist on continuing, how about you try sitting on it. You can take as much time as you’d like, you’ll have total control, and I promise I won’t be upset if it doesn’t fit.”

A roaring inferno of lust and determination blazed within her, all but forcing her to act. As far as she was concerned, she’d make his stallionhood fit within her balmy confines. Clamoring up his frame, dragging her heated nethers over his shaft, she came to a halt on his abdomen and raised her waist. As his cock-head leapt between her thighs and kissed her entrance, her eyes met his.

“I might be new at this,” she coldly noted, adjusting her positioning ever so slightly and throwing her hips in reverse, “but I’m no qui - Oh fuck!”

Her quip ended in a rapturous howl, as she impaled herself and was wracked with a second, even more powerful climax. Though her plan had been foolhardy and bordered on suicidal, she’d intended to sheath at least part of his length to assert herself - regrettably, her hastily laid scheme had ended catastrophically for her. She collapsed atop him, gushing orgasmic juices over his pants and the sofa, while she shivered uncontrollably.

“I told you there was no need to rush,” he groaned. “You ok?”

She shudderingly turned her head to peer up at him, grinning like an absolute idiot. “Yesh…” she slurred.

“Do you need some help getting off?” he asked, the softness in his voice contrasting wildly against his build and his absolute bitch-breaker of a tool.

“No!” she chirped, snatching up his shirt and forcing herself up.

He smiled up at her and patted her hip. “I have to salute your tenacity, but I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

Bringing her snout to within an inch of his face, she glared at him. “If I don’t pass out, I’d say I’m ready for it.”

His hands crept down to her hips, as he continued to stare at her. “In that case, how about we have a wager? If you blackout, I’ll wash up, head home, and you’ll probably never see me again ~ if you can somehow stay conscious, then I may - may entertain going on a second date with you.”

“Deal,” she huffed, steadying herself.

Planting his feet on the far arm of the sofa, he flexed his legs. “Good luck…”

She was totally unprepared for his thrust. Her entire body was driven upward, it felt like her insides were being rearranged, and a squeal of delight escaped her, as he jammed his stallionhood into her. The sensation of abject fullness was beyond words, eclipsing anything she’d ever experienced before, and it sent her soaring toward yet another orgasm - even so, she couldn’t submit to the unfathomable pleasure he afforded. Through sheer force of will, she rocked back into a kneeling position and started bouncing on him.

Her moves were amateurish, asynchronous with his pounding hips, yet she continued undeterred. If weathering the rapturous onslaught meant she’d have even a chance of courting him, that’s exactly what she was going to do. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for with her libido and zeal, leading her to fuck herself on him with reckless abandon.

To say the exchange felt good was a laughable understatement. The silken flesh sheathing his length, the heat radiating through her abdomen, and the way he hammered against her womb were simply perfect, blowing her expectations out of the water by a mile. Though she had little doubt that she’d be walking funny for a few days, and that her poor, battered marehood would probably be very tender for at least a week, that was a small price to pay.

“Here,” he tenderly said, holding her waist, “move with me.”

Slowing slightly, she reigned herself in and did as asked. He wasn’t moving too terribly fast, so it wasn’t that difficult to coordinate her movements to his - even still, it was hard to control herself. As he drove his hips upward, she threw her weight down and was met with some resistance. She’d falsely assumed she’d taken most of what he had to offer, but she’d been wrong.

She peeked down past her swaying breasts and to her abdomen, seeing her belly bulge with each downward plunge. “Is…is that…?”

“Yup,” he snickered, hastening his pace. “And you’ve almost taken my medial ring.”

“Almost?!” she croaked.

Tightening his grip, he gave a particularly hard plunge and drove the thick band of flesh into her. Try as she might to hold back, the sensation of the ring grinding against her g-spot, while the tip of his shaft slammed into her cervix, proved too much to bear. Letting slip a whorish groan, sensing her canal spasm and clinging to his pistoning length, she nearly broke when she was hit with her third climax.

Her senses went haywire, she could barely hold herself upright, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as he plowed her from below. She’d had particularly passionate evenings when she’d screwed herself multiple times in rapid succession, often ending in nearly comatose in a pool of her own nectar, but this - this was different. She’d cum three times in rapid succession, and he showed no sign of stopping.

Her grasp of time blurred, as she suffered through orgasm after orgasm; she had no way to tell if he’d been railing her for seconds, minutes, or hours, but it felt like she’d stayed atop him for a small eternity before a peculiar feeling shook her to her senses. As she blindly pawed at her abdomen, sensing his cock-head beginning to expand, she comprehended just how close he was.

“Inside,” she demanded. “Cum in me!”

Gritting his teeth, he shot forward, clasped her ass, and pulled her off his throbbing shaft. The sensation of his stallionhood being hauled from her depths bordered on heartbreaking, leaving her gaped cunt to grasp at nothing, but she wasn’t crestfallen for long. The hot spray of his seed against her back, hitting the back of her head and shoulders, was almost as rewarding as hearing his sonorous grunts and seeing his face contorted in ecstasy.

She remained where he was, allowing him to ride out his climax, before she worked up the nerve to clear her throat. “W…why didn’t you finish inside?”

“Because,” he wheezed, holding her to his chest, “you have to earn that…” Swinging his legs off the sofa, he got to his feet and effortlessly slung her over his shoulder. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Caught unawares, it took her a second to point to a short hallway. “Down there ~ why?”

“Because we both need a shower,” he groused, fiddling with his pants, “and because I’m going to need to use your laundry machine.”

“But I won ~ right?” she pressed, the thought of going on a second date with him having cleared her thoughts.

He reached up and playfully smacked her cum-slathered backside, snickering to himself. “I guess you did, but we can talk about that later - for the time being, let’s try to relax and enjoy ourselves…”

She’d managed to go on a date with a zebra, finally lost her virginity, and she’d somehow scored a second evening out with the stud. Fate had smiled on her after so many years of solitude, and she would do everything she could to make things work - not just for the sex, but because she genuinely liked Ṣamani. Draping herself over his back, she gave his sculpted, striped backside a squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” she tittered, “I’m sure we’ll be enjoying ourselves all night long…”

Pinkie

“Like this?” Pinkie asked, peeking over her shoulder at the seated zebra behind her.

Waving a hand and reclining his chair, ignoring his snickering cousins, friends, and brothers around him, the colossal striped stud smiled. “Squat down just a touch more and lean forward when you do it - yes, just like that.”

She did as she was told, getting into a somewhat awkward stance before she began dipping and raising her hips. It was a little embarrassing to be doing something so silly, giving her third attempt at what the Zebricans called twerking, but she was ultimately met with success. After only a handful of seconds, pursing her tongue between her lips in concentration, the sound of her clapping ass cheeks was drowned out by cheers of approval.

“Woo yeah!” she triumphantly exclaimed, smiling approvingly at the broadly grinning stallions surrounding her. “And you said a pony couldn’t do it!”

“Impressive -” Oba, the lounging giant, hummed, “very impressive. And you’re sure you’ve never done this before?”

Shaking her head, Pinkie straightened up and turned to face her host. “Nope, I pinkie promise!”

She’d been positively elated when she’d been asked to entertain at a Zebrican bachelor party, even if she’d been a little confused upon receiving the invitation, and she was already becoming the focal point of attention with the attendees. Unsure of what to expect, never having attended any sort of event for zebras, she’d brought the typical fare of cupcakes, streamers, and the most positive attitude she could muster. It had been a little surprising to discover that she was the only mare and only pony in the place, sticking out like a sore thumb, but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - if anything, standing out like a sore thumb was one of the things she did best!

“Come and have a seat,” Oba purred, patting his upper leg.

Practically flinging herself at him, she wheeled around, straddled his large, muscular thigh, and rested her back against his bare, powerful chest. “Don’t you guys get cold walking around like that? I mean, it’s not like it’s winter or anything, but I’d be super chilly!”

The ringleader of the party, much like all of the guests, was adorned in what she assumed was traditional Zebrican attire. Essentially naked, save for a loin cloth and some gold jewelry, the striped giants’ toned, adonic bodies were put on full display. She could see how being around a group of large, powerful stallions could make a mare uncomfortable, but she wasn’t particularly bothered - in fact, seeing them compared to her husband, she was actually kind of turned on by their company.

The titan chuckled, jostling her ever so slightly, as he placed a hand on her hip. “Given how hot you are, I don’t think any of us would cool off even if we tried.”

She giggled and batted a hand at him, trying in vain to downplay his complement. Being surrounded by stallions was nothing new, she’d been around more than she could possibly count throughout her life, but Zebricans weren’t quite like pony guys. The exotic giants didn’t just look different from other equines, being taller and more powerfully built, they acted in a way that was as exciting as it was foreign.

Feeling the stud’s fingers wander around her leg and to her inner thigh, she reflexively clamped her legs together. “Better watch those grabby hands, Mister! I’m all for having fun, but I’m a married mare!” she playfully snickered, peeking back and winking at him.

The stud’s smile didn’t waver in the slightest, as he shifted his hand and hooked a thumb over the waistband of her skirt. “I’m not surprised in the slightest that some lucky stallion managed to take you as their wife, but what’s the harm in having a little fun?”

“I know, I know,” she tutted, getting to her feet and turning to face him. “It’s a bachelor party and it’s your last chance to cut loose before you become a married stallion. Trust me, if I was single, I wouldn’t have -”

“Who said anything about last chances?” he smugly countered, pushing himself up. Towering over her, he folded his arms over his chest. “Perhaps there’s a bit of cultural miscommunication. Where I’m from, stallions and mares are free to do as they please, with whom they please, regardless of if they’re married or not.”

Taken aback by the statement, Pinkie blinked up at the mountain of a stallion. “Wait - really?”

“Indeed,” he affirmed. “If it’s your wish to do nothing more than mingle and grace us with your company, I won’t protest, however…”

She swallowed hard, realizing that every eye in the room was on her. “H…however…?”

“However, I’m sure that every stallion here, including myself, would enjoy a more intimate experience…”

Lowering his hands and stepping closer, he brazenly gave her backside a light smack. Feeling his thick fingers against her tush, she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She loved Cheese Sandwich with all her heart, she really did, although she wouldn’t deny that she’d been getting increasingly turned on at the get-together. The smell of so many stallions crammed into a relatively small area was enough to make her lightheaded, her eyes met chiseled abs and loincloths everywhere she looked, and the shameless admission that the attendees wished for some hands on entertainment was more thrilling than it had any right to be - that was if it was true.

“Come on,” she tittered, spinning in place and beaming at the throng, “you don’t have to act like…”

The moment she lowered her gaze slightly, spotting the tented leather over nearly every stallion’s crotch, she fell silent. If Oba hadn’t been serious about his friends and family lusting after her, being surrounded by growing erections was the weirdest and definitely hottest coincidence she’d ever experienced. With the ache in her loins growing more severe with every beat of her heart, she wheeled around to face her host and gasped when she saw him proudly clutching his stallionhood.

Oba’s cock was even more imposing than the rest of him, being thicker and longer than her forearm, and the sight of it gave her a moment for pause. It was true that her love life had been lacking lately, both because of Cheese’s less than impressive endowment and because her marehood had become just a bit looser after she’d had her child, but that didn’t give her the right to go and get fucked by a group of huge, handsome studs ~ did it? Grinding her thighs together, she forced herself to look up to the colossus’ face.

“And you were serious about open relationships being a thing in Zebrica?” she pressed, her mouth beginning to water.

He nodded solemnly down at her and held a hand to his breast. “I give you my word that it’s the truth. Were you interested in indulging both yourself and my kin this evening, perhaps something I could do to make the event more customary for you.”

Excited murmurs echoed throughout the chamber, though she did her best to ignore them. “And how would you do that?”

“You may not be a native Zebrican, but we could anoint you as one,” Oba intoned, glancing to one of his companions and giving a nod. “Ponies are our distant cousins, we respect and love you all equally, and it only feels fitting to have a mare capable of bringing such joy to those around her be embraced as one of our own.”

While she was still painfully aroused, his words moved her in a startlingly soulful way. “Really?”

“I swear it,” Oba replied with a bow. “If you’re interested, please remove your - oh…”

Before he’d even finished speaking, she was pulling her clothes off. Darned if she could wrap her head around why a group of young, virile studs wanted to do anything naughty with her, but she wasn’t about to question it. Her shirt, skirt, and bra were hastily cast aside, until she bent over, drew her panties down her legs, and kicked the undergarment away.

“S…so what’s next?” she stammered, attempting to cover her rack with one arm while holding a hand over her groin with her free hand.

Maternity had changed her in a great many ways. She’d always been on the plump side, a byproduct of far too many sweets in her life, but having a kid had made her fill out in more ways than one. Her breasts were huge and soft, sagging slightly under their own weight, her belly was pudgy, and her ass was big enough to make buying pants a hassle, yet the crowd’s reaction to her naked body was anything but revulsion. Sinful remarks and approving murmurs crept to her ears, making her hair stand on end, while a lone zebra worked his way through the throng with what looked like a small pot in his hand.

“Next,” Oba purred, taking the crock from his colleague’s grasp, “I’ll mark you as one of our own. Hold your arms out to your sides.”

She did as she was asked, giving everyone in the room an unfettered nude, completely vulnerable body. A part of her was ashamed and nervous, recalling the vows she’d sworn to her dear husband just over a year ago, but a larger, much more overpowering part of her was exhilarated. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy had gotten Zebrican boyfriends for themselves, and she’d heard all about how unbelievable their lovers were in bed, but now it was her time to find out what all the hype was about.

Sinking to one knee, Oba lovingly applied black stripes around her arms, over her chest, and on her legs. Each stroke of the brush against her fur was stimulating beyond belief, making her fight to hold still, and it lasted for several minutes straight. By the time he was finished, withdrawing and rising back to his full height, she could feel a bead of nectar creeping down her inner leg.

“You were beautiful before, but now you’re simply perfect,” he noted, passing the ern of paint off to a companion.

As she twisted in place and looked down at herself, stunned by how striking the stripes looked against her vividly colored coat, she yelped when she was scooped up and into the titan’s burly arms. She wasn’t a small mare by any means, yet he lifted her like she weighed nothing. Confused and hornier than she would ever dare to admit, she was carried to and gently placed on a table that had been cleared.

Oba grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the wooden surface, grinning broadly down at her all the while. “Considering this is my party, would you oppose if I’m the first to -”

“Wait,” she bleated, thrusting a hand into her afro-like mane.

She couldn’t give a good gosh darn about him being the first to plow her, well aware that the cream filling she’d be leaving with would rival anything that left her bakery, although there was something she had to do first. Pulling out a trio of piping bags filled with frosting, she quickly and quite artistically piped icing onto her tits, chest, thighs, and her stomach. Spontaneous gang-bang or not, it wasn’t a proper party until the Pie had been perfectly decorated.

“How very festive,” Oba mused, moving between her legs and kissing the tip of his length to her entrance. “Now if you don’t mind -”

“Just one last thing,” she squeaked, turning her head to look at the myriad of stallions surrounding her. “If I’m gonna do this, I don’t want to skimp on it. I’ve got two hands, two feet, two tits, and at least three holes, so I don’t want any of you to worry about…”

She went quiet as her head was grabbed and leaned over the side of the table. Staring down a long, bobbing stallionhood, understanding that the time for talk was at an end, she reached her hands out to her sides and blindly pawed at the studs around the table. She might be in a monogamous relationship - well, she had been in a monogamous relationship, but that hadn’t always been the case.

Before she’d settled down with Cheese, she’d had her fair share of wilder experiences in her youth. She’d been railed out in every position imaginable and some that weren’t imaginable, she’d been stuffed with diamond dog, yak, griffon, and even dragon cocks a good many times, and she’d developed a infamous, albeit somewhat secretive reputation for being an absolute demon in the sack - having said that, she was instantly pushed to her limit. As soon as the lustful studs understood just how willing she was to become their fuck-toy, they set upon her like a pack of crazed wolves.

While Oba drove his hips forward and sank his incredibly thick stallionhood into her, no fewer than five zebras started kissing, licking, and groping her. The frosting she’d piped onto herself was wiped away by warm tongues and dark, luscious lips. She’d initially thought they’d start screwing her in every possible way, using every part of her to get themselves off, yet that wasn’t the case - no, they worshiped her like a fertile goddess.

Her fingers wrapped around a pair of meaty shafts, while she extended her tongue and licked the cock-head bobbing just in front of her snout. As happy as she was to be with Cheese, there were certain things that he couldn’t do for her, scratches that he couldn’t itch no matter how hard he tried, and it was astounding to have so many enthusiastic studs willing to help her. It wasn’t like she thought about her looks that much, taking joy in merely making ponies happy with her party skills, yet the enthusiasm of so many young stallions rekindled the flames of a passion she’d long feared was dead.

Seconds steadily passed and her fans grew more eager, bucking into her hands or suckling on her nipples, until all that remained of the icing on her body was sticky, glistening remnants on her coat. The striped stud at her head shuffled forward, slipping his shaft into her maw, while another, particularly advantageous stallion got onto the table and straddled her torso. Her vision was filled by a pair of meaty, cum-laden balls, as the pack lost themselves to their mounting lust.

She would have been in a tight situation even if it had just been Oba stretching her open, but that wasn’t the case. With a stallionhood in each hand, one plunging in and out of her gullet, a fourth pounding her pussy, and a fifth being sandwiched between her breasts, she was overwhelmed in the blink of an eye - not like that was a bad thing though. Locking her legs around her host’s hips, clenching her well-trained marehood around his pistoning shaft, she practically fucked herself on her host while his friends and family made use of her.

If there was such a thing as heaven on Equestria, she’d found it. From the intoxicating aroma of stallionly musk in her sinuses to the raw intensity of having an insanely huge dick beating against her womb, her senses were assaulted on every possible front - even still, the psychological stimulation rivaled or even eclipsed the physical intensity of the moment. The stallions were a fraction of her age, they could have had their way with a younger, far less mature mare, yet they hadn’t - they’d chosen her. Lifting her hips upward, she shuddered when what had to be the tip of a finger kneaded her clit.

“Holy shit, this pony is a freak!”

“I wish I’d had a mare like her at my bachelor’s party!”

“Once we flip her over, I call dibs on that fat ass of hers!”

“You think she’d be up for some paternity roulette?”

Any one of the comments would have been electrifying, but it was the last that pushed her over the edge. The thought of having a bastard foal pumped into her, not knowing which of the nearly dozen studs who she had every intention of getting screwed by was the father, was too much to bear. Climactic juices erupted from around Oba’s cock, her thighs trembled, and she whimpered around the stallionhood in her snout.

The stallion she’d been languidly sucking off took full advantage of the situation, sinking his length down her gullet. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, she could feel her throat bulge from the immense intrusion, and her battered cunt spasmed uncontrollably, yet her lovers gave her no quarter. Struggling to recover, awash in ecstasy, she did the only reasonable thing a mare in her position would do - she did everything she could to pleasure the studs.

While it wasn’t her first time sexually juggling more than a single stallion at once, she found the task of stroking and sucking a trio of studs, while getting tit-fucked and plowed by another pair, beyond taxing. If she hadn’t felt as incredible as she had, rebounding from her first climax and skyrocketing towards a second, things may have been different - sadly for her, she’d never know. She took sips of air when she could, blinded by the plump, black balls smacking against her eyes, as the group chuckled and jeered.

She tried - stars above, she tried to keep pace with her admirers, but she never stood a chance. As she was rocked by a second orgasm, her strength withered away. She instantly realized why her friends had taken Zebrican lovers, only then understanding why the huge, brutish studs were renowned for their carnal prowess, and a pang of envy shot through her. It wasn’t fair, why was she the only one of the Elements who couldn’t get a real stud for herself?”

The sensation of Oba flaring within her brought her back from the present, even if she was still completely immobilized. She knew what was going to happen, that he was going to flood her foal-factory with his potent essence, but she wanted it - she needed it. Forcing her limbs to obey her, she held the titan to herself as he hilted every amazing inch of his length into her depths.

There was no way for her to know if it was a safe day or not, having stopped tracking her fertility cycle ages ago, although she wasn’t concerned in the slightest. Feeling him withdraw after several fleeting seconds, relishing the sensation of his cum leaking from her gaped entrance, she groaned when a second stallion stepped in and took her place. A lot of stallions were reluctant to help themselves to sloppy seconds, but apparently that sentiment wasn’t held by Zebricans.

She was the eye of the storm, the focus of all the partygoers’ lecherous wants, and she loved it. The hands on her head tightened and the stud growled above her, sending the first few shots of his cum straight into her stomach, before he stepped back and painted her face with his spunk. Wasting no time, only catching a glimpse of his lipstick-streaked tool, she lifted her head and started sucking off the stud plowing her rack.

A party was a party, and it was her Celestia-given right to make sure that everyone had a good time and left with smiles on their faces. The shaft in her right hand pulsed wildly and a moan cut through the air, as hot, thick spunk splashed over her arm, shoulder, and her cheek. Now with one limb and her head free, she grabbed the ass of the nameless stud straddling her and made out with his cock.

She really did miss moments like these - so much so that the thought of going home to her husband, a notion which almost always made her happy, grew tainted with regret. If she was still single, she’d be able to do this more often - heck, she could probably do it all the time, but that was a pipe dream. She was married, she had a child, and she had expectations to fulfill. There’d be no way for her to do this again in the future, unless…

Waiting until the zebra rutting tits had cum, swallowing most of his load while spilling the rest on her cleavage, she looked over at Oba. “H…hey - Cough - Oba.”

He peaked a brow over at her as the stallion she was jacking off reached his limit. “Yes?”

“Do you think any of your friends would - um - maybe want to hire me for their parties?” she asked.

With a small shrug, he lowered and shook his head. “I’m sure they would, but what of your husband?”

Reinvigorated by what may have been the most depraved idea she’d ever had, finding herself thankful that the stallion screwing her wasn’t nearly as well-hung as Oba, she bashfully rubbed the back of her neck. “He’s a party pony too, so I’m s…sure he’d understand…”

“I see,” the colossus muttered, his eyes twinkling in the dim light overhead. “We can discuss this after we’re through with you tonight. And Pinkie?”

She twisted one nipple and furiously massaged her clit, desperate for another climax, yet she peered up and over at the giant. “Y…yeah?”

“Since this is my party, I’m going to flush all my companion’s seed out of you with my essence. By the time you leave, the only cum dripping out of you will be mine,” he snorted.

The stallion railing her lasted no more than another minute, braying and snarling as he came, which gave her time to get ready for the real fun. Sitting up before another stud could get into position, she unsteadily slipped from the table and stood. There was more than one way to take multiple dicks at one time, and she was about to teach these guys just how to do it.

“A…alright,” she wheezed, pointing to the floor. “One of you lay down on your back so I can ride you, then someone can fuck my ass and my face.”

Though the throng hesitated for a moment, her bold proclamation sent them into a frenzy. Stallions shoved one another, arguments broke out, and threats were leveled, until one of them, a particularly large zebra, flung himself onto the floor. She wasted no time mounting her next suitor, impaling herself with ease, and began wantonly bouncing on him.

The rest of the gang joined their companion in a flash. A cock was driven into her backside, another slipped into her muzzle, and another pair occupied her hands, while she became a dervish of activity. She may have been older and out of shape compared to the partygoers, but she had one thing they didn’t - experience.

Her grasp of time grew tenuous, weathering one climax after another, as she succumbed to her neglected amorous urges. In contrast to the pony stallions she’d been with in the past, each of the Zebrican studs was a veritable paragon of vitality. The brutes lasted several rounds a piece, giving themselves just enough time to recover before they started screwing her again, leaving her unable to recuperate or catch her breath.

Though she couldn’t tell how long she’d stayed at the party, having been plowed on virtually every piece of furniture in the place, things eventually calmed down after what felt like a small eternity. Laying in a pool of jizz, sweat, and her marish juices, staring up at the ceiling, she heaved air into her chest. She’d been glazed in spunk from head to toe, but that didn’t compare to the amount of cum that was in her.

She peeked down at her belly and grinned, reminded of the view from when she’d been pregnant. The tales she’d been told about zebras’ productivity hadn’t done them justice. A single climax from any one of the striped studs was comparable to several loads from a pony stallion, making her all the more enamored with the exotic giants. Seeing a movement near her feet, she looked up as Oba stooped down and grabbed her ankles.

“I told you ~ didn’t I?” he chuckled, driving her legs up and to either side of her head as he knelt down.

Seeing his unbelievably massive cock resting against her tender, swollen pussy, she warily smirked. She was well past the point of being satisfied, but the notion of being locked in a mating press and used as a cum-dump was simply too good to pass up. He rocked his hips back, brought his stallionhood to bear, and slid into her welcoming, worn out cunt, causing her to mewl in glee.

She was going to be sore, she would definitely be limping home, and she might be giving ‘Lil Cheese a half-brother or sister, but those concerns paled in comparison to the rapture and the ecstasy of the night she’d had. As Oba loomed over her and started to rut her, each thrust of his dick sending gouts of cum from her quivering marehood, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She couldn’t remember having so much fun, having grown too used to her husband’s floundering attempts at sex, and she had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Cheese Sandwich would understand her - if he didn’t, she’d make him understand. He may have had a few shortcomings in the lovemaking department, but that didn’t mean she was planning on leaving him - on the contrary, he was going to play a pivotal part with her new, exotic clientele. The titan above her leaned in and locked lips with her, pressing his tongue past her lips and into her snout, and she gave herself to him. Yeah - she might have been married, but that meant she could get her hubby in on the fun…

Cheese Sandwich

On his knees by the foot of the bed, Cheese fidgeted uncomfortably. Save for a pair of handcuffs around his wrists which kept his arms behind his back, he was completely naked. He would have given anything he could to move, but he’d been given an order - moreover, even if his arms had been freed, he wouldn’t have budged from his place.

“R…right there!” Pinkie wailed, the striped titan between her legs plowing her as though she were a field in spring.

He could see everything from his position, from his wife’s pink, lower lips clinging desperately to Oba’s gargantuan length to the way she writhed beneath her bull, yet the sight wasn’t a new one. Though he tried not to think about it, the scene before him was becoming increasingly frequent, several times a week at least, and he didn’t see such moments coming to an end anytime soon. Drawing his tongue over his lips, ignoring his leaking colthood, he whimpered.

The sound he’d made, though subtle, was enough to bring Oba’s wild rutting to an abrupt stop. He gulped and tore his eyes off the action, fearing he’d made some transgression. He was still getting used to his new role in his relationship, so he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d done anything wrong. Like many times before and many times surely to come in the future, he’d been sat down, forced to watch his lover get rutted, and he’d be set free once Pinkie and Oba were finished.

“W…why’d you stop?” Pinkie croaked, propping herself up on one arm.

Peering over his shoulder at Cheese, Oba snorted. “I believe your husband is jealous…”

Pinkie shifted and looked past the titan, her eyes eventually settling on her husband. “Is that true, Cheese?”

“I…” Cheese mumbled anxiously. “I don’t know…”

His answer was a genuine one. While he’d initially been jealous when Pinkie had brought the giant over for what he’d been told would be a threesome, his envy had slowly eroded away and been replaced by something different - something he didn’t understand. Any stallion in his shoes should have - would have been furious, storming out and ending the marriage right then and there, yet a cocktail of shame and arousal, paired with his love for his wife, had compelled him to stay.

“Come closer,” Pinkie cooed, beckoning to him with a finger.

Awkwardly shuffling forward on his knees toward her, he halfheartedly smiled. “Y…yes?”

With a grin splitting her muzzle, she gestured again. “A little closer…”

Again, he inched ahead and stopped. “Here?”

“Not quite,” she giggled. “Since you don’t know if there’s a problem, I want your cute little muzzle right in the action. How about you put your snout right where it belongs and lick my juices off Oba’s cock! I know it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together, so you should give yourself a taste!”

His mouth watered at the sound of her proposition, though for a reason he wouldn’t dare admit. He’d never been all that impressive for a stallion, being quite lanky and with a rather inadequate endowment, yet it wasn’t until he’d met Oba that he knew just how inferior he really was. Glancing up to the zebra’s face, seeing the colossus smile and nod, he altered his direction and crept nearer to his wife’s filled marehood. The first thing he noticed, beside the incredible size of the bull’s heavy, ripe balls, was that the smell of Pinkie’s sex was completely drowned out by the overpowering aroma radiating from the stud’s equipment.

He’d hadn’t spent all that much time around stallions, and never in a sexual setting, so the heady bouquet that accosted him sent his mind reeling. In the blink of an eye, his focus swung from his lover’s loins to the bull’s buried length and pendulous nuts. Leaning forward, taking care not to lose his balance, he brought his face under the hanging pair of cum-tanks that would inevitably fill his wife.

“Got a nice view down there?” a low, ominous voice intoned from above.

He swallowed and nodded, his nose a hair’s breadth from the zebra’s equipment. “Y…yes, Sir…”

There were certain rules he had to follow when Oba was in their house, and he dared not break them. For starters, he was to address the bull as Sir - secondly and most importantly, he was to unquestioningly follow the zebra’s orders. He told himself he didn’t like it, he did what he could to cling to the shreds of his stallionly pride, but it was no use - though he hated to admit it, he was never more turned than when the towering Zebrican was in his presence.

Remaining where he was, he watched in open awe as Oba started screwing Pinkie. The sights, the sounds, the smell - for Pete’s sake, he could practically taste the sweat and musk coating the zebra’s banded flesh. His backdoor reflexively winked at the spectacle, causing the toy in his ass to grind against his prostate and reminding him of his only way of getting off.

Once Pinkie and her bull were finished fucking like animals, he was free to do as he wished, allowing him to run off to furiously masturbate, but there was no way for him to tell how long that would take - mercifully, his loving spouse had given him a way to get some relief. For the last week or so, she’d started plugging him with a little toy to train what she’d endearingly called his cucky-bitch-button. Desperately clenching and relaxing his ass, he bucked his hips while he enjoyed the show playing out right in front of him.

It felt weird having something in his backside, making the demeaning situation all the more mortifying, but what option did he have? As he lowered his head a touch more, hoping to lap at the steady stream of nectar flowing between Pinkie’s ass cheeks, Oba squatted down and practically sat on his face. The heat and weight of the zebra’s taint and nuts against him should have angered him, although all it did was push him closer to his limit.

In a frenzy, caving under the unimaginable weight of his maddening lust, he licked and kissed the Oba’s package. He’d done nothing but spectate each Pinkie had been ravaged by her bull on their bed in the past, pushing him to his breaking point. Grappling with desires he couldn’t understand, a revelation dawned on him. While he still loved and cherished his wife, he was only aroused as he was because of the monstrous stud.

Be it from his servile and eager to please nature, the fact that it would be impossible for him to ever satisfy his wife again, how he was worshiping a stallion’s balls, or some combination of the three, he was shaken to his core by a climax of existential proportions. He moaned into the zebra’s nuts, huffing and licking all the while, as his weak, watery spunk dribbled to the carpet. Though it took him several moments to notice it, whining uncontrollably as he slowly came down from his ecstasy, his cataclysmic orgasm had apparently been loud enough to catch the ear of both Pinkie and her bull.

“Oh my gosh! Cheese, did you just cum?” Pinkie exclaimed.

Oba stepped back and unsheathed his length, dragging every inch of his slickened shaft from the mare’s snatch, and quirked a brow down at the trembling, panting cuck beneath him. “Yeah - yeah, he definitely did.”

With blurry, unfocused eyes, feeling as though his limbs weighed a thousand pounds, Cheese looked between the pair. “Is…is that bad?”

“Bad?!” Pinkie cheered, crawling around on all fours to peer over the edge of the bed at him. “It’s great! Now that I think you’re finally starting to accept your place, I want you to see something. Stand up for me, honey.”

He nodded and falteringly got his feet under himself. Rising from a kneeling position while handcuffed was no easy task, yet neither Oba or Pinkie made a move to help him. He’d been told to stand, so he was going to stand - that’s all there was to it. On shaky legs and with trembling knees, he got up and mutely waited.

Hopping from the bed, Pinkie came behind Oba and gently pressed the titan forward. “Sir, would you show my little hubby what we talked about?”

“Gladly,” Oba snorted with a twisted grin on his muzzle.

Staring up at the giant, Cheese found himself standing face to face with the bull. He’d always known that there was no comparing himself to the adonic, well-muscled Zebrican, but he’d never been this close to Oba before. The colossus was a full head and shoulders taller than himself, he looked like a willowy child next to the hulking stallion, and his stallionhood - heaven help him, he couldn’t even call his endowment a stallionhood when it was so close to a real cock.

“Just look how cute it is!” Pinkie giggled, squatting down and bringing her face between their respective groins.

Chuckling to himself, Oba shook his head. “Mine was bigger when I was a but a colt. How in the world did he manage to give you a foal?”

Pinkie laughed harder, straightened up, and plastered herself to her bull’s side. “Beats me, but it’s definitely not gonna happen again. After our little son or daughter arrives, you’re the only one who’s going to be making use of my baby-bakery.”

Cheese lowered his gaze, watching as his wife, the mare he loved more than any other, affectionately rubbed her lower abdomen. Given how often she’d been getting bred by Oba, it came as no shock that she was pregnant - nevertheless, the news warmed his heart in a way he couldn’t explain. Pinkie seemed happy enough with her bull and that she’d be a mother again, so that was good enough for him.

“Soooooooo…” Pinkie continued, smirking over at him. “Now that you don’t need that little shrimp of yours to have fun, how about we lock it away for good.”

Cocking his head to the side, he pursed his lips. “L…lock it up?”

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, strutting over to her dresser.

Lifting a small jewelry box from atop the piece of furniture, she walked back to him and fell to her knees. Seeing her in such a position reminded him of when he’d proposed to her, asking for her hand in marriage while presenting an engagement ring, but the vision was fleeting. She opened the box to reveal what appeared to be a tiny metal contraption, beaming up at him all the while.

“Once you have this on, you won’t have to worry about the handcuffs anymore!” she cheerfully exclaimed, separating the device into two pieces. “Hold still!”

He didn’t move - couldn’t move, too shocked by the development to budge, as she slipped his coin purse and softening colthood through a cold, unyielding ring of metal. Pinkie giggled as she worked, pressing his flaccid length beneath the cap of the device and locking it to the circular base around his equipment. While he’d heard about chastity cages before, he never would have guessed he’d find himself fitted with such a thing.

She leaned back to appraise her work and gave a satisfied nod before peering up at him. “How’s it feel?”

He honestly didn’t know what to say. The steel of the contraption was already beginning to warm up slightly, yet it was growing more uncomfortable with every beat of his heart. Despite having cum mere seconds ago, he could already feel his trapped length struggling against its confines. Listening to the combined laughter of his wife and her bull, he looked up from his caged cock and to the pair.

“It’s…” he murmured, his cheeks darkening. “It’s ok…”

“Well I’m gonna make sure it’s more than just ok! Oba and I were kinda hoping this would happen tonight, which is why we brought a special guest to help us celebrate the moment!” she whooped.

“Cousin,” Oba loudly grunted. “Introduce yourself.”

Glancing over as the door of the bedroom opened, Cheese gawked as a second zebra entered the chamber. Just as powerfully built and imposing as Oba, the newcomer walked in and stared over at him from behind a bramble of dreadlocks. Seeing a second giant would have been jarring by itself, yet the stranger was already nude and sporting a slowly hardening cock.

“I’m Omiran,” the stranger rumbled, his voice like that of boulders grinding together. “Your wife and her lover tell me you’ve finally earned my company.”

Cheese gawked down at the zebra’s stallionhood, only barely registering that he’d been spoken to. Oba was large in every sense of the word, yet Omiran’s equipment was no less impressive. With a fat, throbbing vein snaking along one side, the brute’s shaft was so massive that it drooped toward the floor under its own weight. Staving off the urge to fall to his knees before such a primal god, he peeked up and into the zebra’s glimmering, emerald eyes.

“I g…guess so, Sir,” he sputtered, rubbing his thighs together.

“We shall see,” Omiran grumbled. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

Anxiously turning and pulling himself onto the bed, Cheese rolled onto his back. Until that moment, he’d only been an observer, relegated to the sidelines while his wife and her bull were in the chamber with one another, although it appeared that was going to change. He gazed up at Omiran as the colossus moved to the bedside, bashfully smiled, then yelped as his leg was grabbed and pulled. Suddenly finding himself resting widthwise on the mattress, repositioned with his legs held aloft by dreadlocked stud, he grew even more confused when Pinkie clambered atop him.

“There’s two of them and two of us,” she snickered, her tone taking on a playful, sinister note. “I wonder what a mare and her useless little cuck hubby could do to entertain their guests…”

“Useless is right,” Omiran guffawed, prying Cheese’s legs while leering down at the pony’s chastity cage. “I knew you said he was small, cousin, but you didn’t mention how pathetic he is!”

Pinkie steadily turned over her husband, bringing her slavering marehood over his face while on all fours. “Honestly, I think I could have gotten a smaller cage - actually, come to think of it, do you think we even need the cage? It’s not like he can do anything with his itty-bitty clitty anyways!”

“He can’t,” Oba placidly noted, stepping around and behind her, “but it will remind him of his place. He’s not a true stallion and he’s less than a mare, but that’s not his fault ~ is it?”

Looking up and seeing the behemoth’s cock kiss his wife’s drooling entrance, Cheese squirmed. The discomfort of the cage was getting worse and worse, his face was just below Pinkie’s soon to be filled cunt, and there was a zebra holding his legs open like he was some common whore, but he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. He flinched when a warm gust of air blew over his chaste prick, causing him to glance down his chest.

Pinkie ran a single finger over the metal prison on his crotch, before her digits crept lower, down his taint, and to his plugged backdoor. “If you liked the toy, I can’t wait to see how much you’ll love the real thing.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Omiran intoned, squeezing lube over his cock.

Trying and failing to stifle a whimper as the toy was pulled out of his behind, Cheese remained motionless as the giant reached down and began fingering him. His eyelids fluttered, the voice hitched in his throat, and pre-cum leaked from his chastity while his p-spot was accosted. It shouldn’t have been possible for something so depraved to feel as good as it did, yet the unfamiliar sensation of being played with in such a humiliating way was undeniable.

There he was, legs spread while being finger-fucked by a stallion he hadn’t known several seconds prior, and all he could do was groan in barely kept bliss under Pinkie, his betrothed and the mother of his child. Though he wanted to look up and watch his wife get railed, he couldn’t avert his gaze from Omiran. He may have only just met the stud, but the domineering aura the colossus exuded made him feel smaller than he already was.

“Good little mare,” the giant fingering him breathed, slipping another digit into his winking hole.

On top of everything else doing on, being called a mare set his nerves alight. He could feel next to nothing through the restrictive contraption around his colthood, yet that hardly mattered. The sensation of being toyed by a stallion, a real stallion, took his breath away. As he raised his waist and fruitlessly humped at the air, yet more pre-cum to ooze through the holes of his cage.

He’d heard that there were stallions in the world who could climax from anal alone, the psychological stimulation of being used elevating the enjoyment of anal proving enough to make them cum, yet he wouldn’t have imagined he could be one of them. Driven closer and closer to his limit, wrestling with the unfathomable concept that he may climax, his focus was shattered when a guttural groan split the air. Tilting his head back, he gazed upward as Oba plunged into Pinkie’s awaiting depths.

In one of the rarer moments of his life, he didn’t know what to do. Until that juncture, he’d willingly and quite contentedly watched his wife from afar, progressively growing more comfortable with the fact that she deserved better than he could deliver in the bedroom, yet now he was more than just an onlooker. ‘There are two of them and two of us,’ the words rang in his head, filling him with glee.

Forcing a third finger into his ass, Omiran chuckled. “There you go. Don’t be afraid to moan for me. By the time I’m done with you, I’m going to turn your useless little hole into a fine pussy for cock - oh and one more thing…”

He leaned his head to the side and peered down at the stud. “Y…yeah?”

“Call me Daddy,” the titan snickered. “It gets me going.”

“T…thank you, Daddy,” he sniveled, his face going a brilliant crimson.

Merely uttering the words drove him closer to the edge, bringing him to the very cusp of another orgasm. Pinkie mewled and threw her ass back above him, unabashedly meeting every one of Oba’s increasingly forceful thrusts, while she begged her bull to ruin her. Almost insidiously, tormented by the phenomenal sensations accosting him, he shifted his focus back to the stud - his stud.

He could just barely see Omiran’s stallionhood, given that the giant was bent over, yet his heart pounded at the thought of having something so massive inside him. Wincing slightly as the zebra forced a fourth digit into him, testing the limits of his pucker, he did what he could to stay relaxed. If there was even the slightest chance of him accommodating the stud’s gargantuan endowment, he was going to need to loosen up - something the striped behemoth seemed keenly aware of.

Tenderly stroking his p-spot, the giant smiled up at him. He timidly smirked and held the zebra’s gaze, getting more flustered by the second, until things took a turn. Omiran withdrew his fingers, gave what sounded like an approving grunt, and stood. As the stud’s tool came to rest against his package, hammering home the difference between them, his heart skipped a beat.

“Beg for it, cuck,” the titan growled, smacking stallionhood against the pony’s balls.

“P…please,” Cheese stuttered. “I want it.”

“I know,” Omiran affectionately snarled, pulling his hips back and bringing his cock-head to the cuck’s hole, “and now you’ll have it.”

Cheese’s eyes shot wide, he cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and he clutched at the bed sheets he laid upon. Though intense and uncomfortable, the intense sensation was awe inspiring and broke him on a fundamental level. Inch after inch of thick, midnight black cock was ground into him, molding him to serve his new purpose, while his thoughts went haywire.

He came the second Omiran’s thick medial ring was forced into him, demolishing his prostate and cementing his place in the world. His life until that moment was a lie, a game of pretend, and he understood that now. Squirting thin, impotent jizz over his belly, howling like a lucky filly first experiencing the love of a stallion, he was reborn.

Pinkie climaxed and screamed above him, showering his face with her orgasmic nectar. The baptismal spray was like a release, the approval of his betrothed, and he basked in it. Showing no signs of stopping, Omiran grabbed his hips, lifted his lower half slightly, and began hammering away like a freight train. If the feeling of having something so enormous crammed into his ass had been a taste of heaven and hell, being plowed like Pinkie had been was like being embraced by nirvana.

His cries of rapture mingled with his wife’s, crafting a depraved symphony that was accentuated by the groans and heavy breaths of the two zebras. Having tried his best to be a capable husband for the mare of his dreams, he’d done nothing but fool himself since the day he’d sworn his vows to her. He wasn’t good enough for Pinkie, he’d never be good enough for Pinkie, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t love one another and be happy together.

Shifting one hand, he brought his thumb to her clit. Oba was perfectly capable of bringing her multiple orgasms in rapid succession, yet he wished to show his appreciation for her. As he rubbed her stuffed marehoof, she reciprocated his affection. Driven forward and back by each of her bull’s thrusts, she squeezed and massaged his coin purse.

“That’s - Mmmph - cute,” Omiran remarked, hammering away at Cheese’s ass. “Cum all you want, bitch, but know that your so-called masculinity is finite. Eventually, as you succumb like your wife, you’ll be little more than a warm hole for my cousin or I.”

Glancing past her swaying breasts, Pinkie grinned at her husband. “M…maybe you could - Oh buck - clean Oba after he cums.”

While he would have merrily lapped at thick seed seeping from his lover’s snatch, the idea of having his throat swabbed by a cum-covered pillar of zebra meat erased his refractory period. There’d been times when Pinkie had instructed him to warm Oba up, lubricating the bull’s length with his saliva, but he’d never truly sucked off anyone before. Burying his face in the stud’s balls, he put his lips and tongue to work.

With every plunge of Omiran’s stallionhood, he could feel himself transforming - not in a physical sense, but in a mental and almost spiritual way. The vestiges of who he was slipped away from him, crumbling to reveal who he would be. He wasn’t sure how things would work outside of the bedroom, if he’d still be expected to work and shoulder most of the household’s bills, although that hardly seemed to matter. In or out of either of the zebras’ presence, he would submit himself to them in mind, body, and soul.

His third climax struck more ferociously than the second, but only a few drops of thin spunk escaped his cage. He could feel it, the few stallionly elements he’d held dear departing him, and he welcomed it. The quicker he abandoned the false veneer of his marriage with Pinkie, the faster he and his wife would find real bliss with one another.

He slipped in and out of consciousness, cumming until his little, useless balls were dry, until a singular sensation overtook him. Tilting his head and glancing down at himself, seeing the immense swell of Omiran’s cock bulging his belly, he felt the zebra’s shaft throb. What little terror he felt at the realization that he was going to be bred, willingly surrendering any chance of ever being a stallion again, was surpassed by his need to be claimed.

Searing heat blossomed in his depths, Omiran’s bestial bellow rang in his ears, and the titan’s hilted length flared within him, heralding a new chapter of his life. It was a death and rebirth - the old Cheese Sandwich was gone, replaced by a sicophantic, obedient pair of holes to warm his Daddy’s cock. Struggling through the blinding ecstasy that threatened to consume him, he filled his lungs and gave voice to his true self.

“Thank you, Daddy!” he bleated, trembling from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. “T…thank you so much!”

It took every ounce of strength to speak so loudly and clearly, leaving him a limp, gibbering, cum-filled heap, but it had been worth it - regrettably, having confessed his thanks, he nearly blacked out. Though he’d like to think that he was only unconscious for a few minutes, there was no real way for him to tell how long it was. Seconds, minutes, or possibly hours passed in a dreamless haze, until he was awoken by a slap to the face.

He exhaustedly opened his eyes and found Omiran standing over him. Pinkie and Oba were gone, possibly having retired to the guest room for the night, yet his stud remained. Almost instantly noticing the semi-rigid, obsidian length resting against his cheek, he opened his muzzle and began mopping the zebra’s velvety flesh with his tongue.

“What to we say?” the giant hummed, softly striking him across the face with his dick.

Swallowing a mouthful of jizz and lube, somehow thrilled by the taste of his own ass, he drowsily beamed up at the giant. “Thank you, Daddy…”

Applejack

“Woah there,” Applejack snickered, leaning against the kitchen counter while holding a hand to her belly. “Hold your horses there, sugarcube. Ain’t no sense in rushin’ things.”

Peering down and past her heavy bosoms, she smiled at her gravid stomach. She’d always known it would only be a matter of time until she did her part to add to the apple family, yet her life had taken a few unexpected twists and turns until she’d ended up with a bun in her oven. As her thoughts strayed back to the adonic giant who had won her heart and claimed her womb, her marehood grew moist.

Ina was his name and he was a behemoth in every sense of the word. Like many of his kind, he and his sibling had sought refuge from Zebrica and sought a new life of peace and prosperity in Equestria. She really hadn’t thought too much about the influx of zebricas in town, showing them the same courtesy and kindness that she afforded anyone, yet she’d been a bit surprised to see the lumbering titan meandering up to the homestead.

As sympathetic as she was, willing to give strangers passing through a few apples and a mattress in the barn to sleep on for the night, she wasn’t about to allow freeloaders on the farm. With Granny Smith needing help getting around and Apple Bloom having gone off to Manehattan to make a life for herself, she and Big Mac were struggling to keep their heads above water - fortunately, her visitor wasn’t there to ask for a handout. Before he’d even introduced himself, the striped goliath had asked for a job.

There were few things that truly impressed her, but she’d be darned if hard work wasn’t one of them. Just as tall and heavily built as Big Mac, Ina was a powerhouse of phenomenal proportions. Over the span of a single day he’d proven there was no tree he couldn’t buck, no wagon he couldn’t lift, nor loaded cart he couldn’t pull, and she’d ended up hiring him on the spot - still, his talents lay far beyond those of mere physical might. It wasn’t long after she rearranged the barn loft for him and his sibling, turning the unused area into a little apartment of sorts, that she found herself eyeing him while they worked alongside one another.

In an ironic twist of fate, he rarely if ever said anything. Almost like a long lost brother of Big Mac’s, minus the stripes and mohawk, the stoic titan preferred to let his actions speak for himself - that or give the occasional ‘beeni’ or ‘rara’, yes and no respectively, when asked a question. Big, strong, determined, and holding family in high regard, he won her over in less than a month.

Things started innocently enough, stealthily sneaking glances at him while they labored in the orchard or in the barn, though things escalated quickly from there. With her inexperience in courtship and his tacit disposition, she’d initially thought that making a move on him would be a trial - mercifully for her, she’d been wrong. Late one evening, having toiled through a chill autumn day, a magical spark had passed between them.

Closing her eyes and fixating on that fateful night, she suppressed a thrilled shiver. He’d stripped out of his sweat-soaked shirt in the barn, revealing his bare chest and chiseled abs before going up to the loft to get something to eat or possibly shower; there hadn’t been anything overtly sexual about it, yet she’d made some silly, somewhat awkward comment about how he could spare himself undue laundry if he worked shirtless all the time. He’d chuckled, she’d giggled, and that could have - should have been that, but that’s when their eyes met. She still wondered if she’d made some subtle move or had an expression that had tipped her hand, letting him know how interested she was in him, because he’d smiled and silently walked over to her.

She’d wanted to protest when he’d reached down and delicately pulled at her shirt, and she could have pushed him away as he’d unclasped her bra and flung it to the side, yet she’d done anything but resist his advances - in fact, she welcomed them. That night of raw bliss, entwining her body with his behind a stack of hay bales while trying and failing to stay quiet, had been the beginning of something magical between them. Though nothing initially changed after that impulsive, impassioned exchange, it hadn’t been long before her life took a turn.

In hindsight, she should have been shocked by not getting knocked up sooner, having never once used a condom or any form of protection with the big lug, although the news that she was expecting still came as a surprise - well, it came as a surprise to her at least. Having called a family meeting with Big Mac and Granny, she’d been equal parts annoyed and stunned when her brother and grandmother had laughed off her big announcement. Apparently the pair had known she was fooling around with Ina since the very start, hearing blissful howls coming from the barn and noticing her walking a bit funny on some mornings, which was both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, Granny and Big Mac both supported her wholeheartedly, swearing they’d do everything they could for her and her unborn foal - on the other, it was more than a little embarrassing to have her closest family confess that they fully aware of just how intimate her friendship with Ina was. At the end of the day, once the dust had settled, everything had worked out better than she could have hoped, and she soon had a small cottage erected for herself, her mate, and her little colt or filly on the farm. She’d lived life to its fullest all through her pregnancy, working just as hard as usual until her due date was just around the corner.

Feeling the foal inside her kick, she was shaken from her thoughts. “What’d Ah tell ya about gettin’ ornery?”

She got no reply, though the sound of a door opening caught her ear. Peeking over her shoulder while listening to the sound of heavy, approaching footfalls, she smirked back when Ina entered the kitchen. Like many days before and many days yet to come, he was soaked, looking like he’d just stepped out of a shower, and the sight of him caused her heart to flutter.

“You and Mac didn’t work yourselves too hard ~ did ya?” she called, donning an oven mitt over one hand.

He grunted as he came to a halt and gave her a noncommittal answer. She would have been out in the orchard helping him and her brother - unfortunately, being in the final stage of her pregnancy, Granny Smith had insisted she take it easy and relegate herself to less physically taxing tasks. Shuffling to the side and bending over, she opened the oven and reached for the steaming casserole resting therein.

“Supper should be ready in just a few,” she announced. “Ah just gotta - h…hey!”

A set of big, powerful digits wandered down her back and to her tush, bringing her to a dead stop. A part of her was tempted to ignore him, purely to see what he was going to do with her, yet her pride and a lifetime of independence demanded she take action. Straightening up and wheeling around, she slapped his hand away and wagged a finger up at him.

“Ah don’t remember anyone sayin’ you could get handsy with me,” she huffed, glowering.

He stood mute and smiled down at her, as impassive and mighty as a mountain. In a great many ways, he reminded him of her brother, but that was hardly a bad thing. Doing what she could to maintain her stern expression, she locked eyes with him and scrunched her snout. There’d been far, far too many occasions when she’d yielded to his aplomb, stoic charm, but not this time - no way in heck.

His hand reached to her hip before she gently but firmly smacked it away a second time. “What’d Ah just tell ya? Ah swear, you’re…”

Remaining completely silent, he took a large step back, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it upward. He may not have said much, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Slowly and downright erotically, moving with the speed of a glacier, he exposed his abs, brawny chest, and boulder-like shoulders before tossing the garment aside. The sight of his bare torso dealt a ruinous blow to her resolve, making her nipples erect and marehood slaver, yet she defiantly glared up at him.

“Like Ah ain’t seen that a hundred times already,” she snorted, having to force herself to look up at his face. “Shucks, at this point, Ah reckon you could walk around naked and it wouldn’t bother me none.”

It was a bold, foolhardy bluff, one she’d barely been able to utter while keeping a straight face, and she instantly regretted her words. With a smirk, he brought one hand to the front of his pants and flicked the button with his thumb. She told herself to turn away before it was too late, to spare herself before the siren’s song that was his heavenly body took hold, yet she couldn’t avert her gaze.

The denim of his jeans parted and was drawn down his muscular thighs as he bent forward and continued to undress himself. He kicked his pants over to join his shirt once he was finished and stood up to loom over her. She would have bet good bits that he had a smug grin on his handsome face - shucks, he might have even been on the verge of chuckling at her, but she was too fixated on his groin to tell for certain.

The sly devil was one of - no, the only creature in all of Equestria who’d figured out how to press her buttons. She had no desire for a stallion with money, slick talk, or the ability to take her on fancy dates; the only thing she’d ever wanted was a stud who loved her, cared for her, and was honest enough to settle down with to start a family - all of which Ina had displayed in spades. Clamping her eyes shut, lest staring at the bulge in his boxers do her in, she shook the lustful thoughts from her head.

“Ya finished now?” she demanded. “Cause if ya are, Ah gotta finish supper.”

He stepped closer and leaned toward her. Willing herself not to budge, almost expecting him to make another halfhearted attempt to grope her, she watched as his face got closer and closer. The scent of his breath and the aroma of his body was like a perfume, making her loins quiver with anticipation, yet he merely closed his eyes, pursed his lips, gave her a peck on the cheek, and withdrew.

She should have been thankful, realizing she’d been spared from what could have been yet another spontaneous rutting session, but the transient nature of his kiss was almost cruel. Her frustration shifted and intensified when he gave her a small pat on the head and turned away from her. While she didn’t want to be teased with some burlesque show, she was not about to be patronized.

Throwing an arm out, she grabbed his wrist and prevented him from leaving. “Now wait just a minute! If’n you’re gonna give me a kiss, ya better give me a real kiss!”

Her demand was purely self-serving, borne of desire, and yet she made it all the same. Softly humming and sinking into a squat, he wrapped one arm around the small of her back and pulled her in. The moment he drifted closer, planting his pillowy, ebony lips on her, her fortitude was sundered.

She didn’t resist as his tongue crept into her snout and past her teeth, succumbing to his whiles in the blink of an eye. Despite hours upon hours of manual labor, having worked nearly nonstop since sunup, he desired her more than rest or a hearty meal. Acting of its own volition, she ran a hand up his arm, over his shoulder, and to the back of his neck. He may have had her in his clutches, but she could say the same about him.

His soft, sensual groan was like boulders cascading down a mountainside, and it caused her hair to stand on end. He was larger than her by a fair margin, his physical might was beyond reproach, and she hadn’t the slightest doubt that he could overpower her with ease, yet she had nothing to fear. With a tenderness that belied his unfathomable strength, he held her close and slipped his hand to her rear.

She countered him in an instant, sliding one hand between them and to the growing swell in his underwear. While she’d had no intentions of getting frisky as soon as he’d gotten home, it simply couldn’t be helped. Clutching the base of his length, feeling the silken skin of his sheath against her fingertips, she shot back and scowled.

“Just so ya know, this is your fault,” she grumbled.

Chuckling lightly, completely undeterred, he kissed his way down her neck. Ensnared in his steely grasp, she wriggled and fought to remove her top. Buck it - it had been a few hours since she’d eased the burden on her bust. As she writhed in place, unsuccessfully attempting to remove her shirt, her temper flared.

Grabbing her collar, she tore her blouse open and popped every button along its front. There was a point at which she would stop caring, giving little or no consideration to something as paltry as mending a garment - after being teased so ruthlessly by the stud who’d put a foal in her, she’d crossed well past that threshold. He dipped his head while she shifted slightly to one side, allowing him to wrap his lips around one of her leaking, turgid nipples.

While there wasn’t anything inherently sexy about nursing a foal, the same couldn’t be said for having her lover suckle on her teat. Her fingers drifted through his mohawk and gripped the back of his skull, holding him close while his hand snaked down the front of her dress. Pleasing him would come in time, though not until he’d indulged himself with her.

She stifled a lustful moan as his fingers kneaded her drenched nethers. Though she hadn’t said anything, acting coy and frankly rebellious at his advances mere moments prior, her body betrayed her arousal. Bucking into his hand, yearning to feel him in her depths, she peeked down and noticed him looking up at her.

“W…what?” she sputtered, caught unawares. “Don’t y…you go tryin’ nothin’ - Gah?!”

With startling speed, he seized hold of her knees, and lifted her from the floor. She momentarily reeled, instinctively pinwheeling her arms and trying to steady herself before she was sat down on the countertop. Staying in a squat, he lunged forward and buried his face between her thighs. It appeared as though the appetizer of her milk had only whetted his appetite.

He carefully bit down on her panties and ripped them away, shredding the undergarment like it was little more than tissue paper. It wasn’t the first time that he’d ruined a garment in fervor, and she doubted it would be the last, yet she was still upset with him - not because of ruining a piece of clothing, but because she wasn’t able to appreciate the spectacle of him eating her out.

Pulling her skirt up, she leered down at him for a split second before she was beset with rapture. His lips and tongue were as amazing as ever, touching her in a way nobody ever had, and they chipped away at her ordinarily unshakable resolve. She was his mare, he would play with her as he pleased, and embracing that fact sent her into a frenzy.

She lifted and locked her legs around the back of his head, pulling him in and ensuring he wouldn’t escape. Humming into her and hugging her thighs, he peered up between her heavy udders and to her face. There may have been something more magical than watching a stallion eat her out, but she’d be darned if she could think of it.

The way he feasted on her, alternating between fixating on her clit and lavishing her depths with his tongue, was a taste of Heaven and Tartarus itself. She’d find herself nearing a climax only to have it snatched away from her; it was like he wanted to torment her, promising her an onslaught of ecstasy denying it until he was ready, and it was slowly driving her mad. With her thoughts clouded by carnal desires, finding it harder and harder to think, she set her jaw and pulled his head back by his mane.

“Now listen here,” she seethed, “if’n you don’t buck me and buck me right now, Ah’m gonna be right cross with ya ~ you understand me, mister?”

Prying her legs apart with next to no effort, he rose to his full, menacing height. Sensing the sublime heat of his length against her loins, she felt his stallionhood before she saw it. He was a paragon of masculinity, a veritable god amongst his peers, and seeing him towering over her spoke to the most primal portions of her mind.

He took the smallest step back, brought the head of his length to her entrance, and grinned down upon her. The time for games was at an end, and she couldn’t be happier. Placing her feet to either side of his thick neck, she hefted and squeezed her breasts. Jets of milk sprayed from her bosoms, showering over her belly, thighs, and his abdomen, giving him a moment for pause. Though she found it a bit silly, she knew good and gosh darn well that he had had a fondness for lactation.

As she lifted and jostled one breasts at him, a grin split her muzzle. “C’mon, sugarcube, don’t leave mama waitin’...”

Her provocation, while slight, gave her the result she’d been hoping for. Driving his hips forward, he stretched her open and sank into her. She honestly couldn’t say if she’d ever get used to such a monumental intrusion, but she prayed she wouldn’t. With just over half of his shaft entombed in her, he hunched over and gingerly nibbled on her left nipple.

The two-pronged attack of being nursed upon while he started fucking her was wondrous beyond words. She had no issue taking a more active role, loving to ride him or buck back against him throughout her pregnancy, but she loved when he took control. Giving herself only a few seconds to relish the sensation of fullness he afforded, she got his timing down and began rhythmically clenching and relaxing her marehood in tune with his plunges.

Gazing down at him, she trembled in delight. “B…buck…”

Even with their less than ideal positioning, being unable to take all of his stallionhood, she felt absolutely amazing. His length was like a piston, sawing into her while its bloated, fist-sized head scraped against her g-spot, but it wasn’t enough - it would never be enough. The hardest orgasm she’d ever had had been when he’d penetrated her cervix and pumped a virile load straight into her foal-factory, a moment she swore was what led to the conception of their unborn lovechild, and she couldn’t wait to give birth to relive the experience.

Slowing just as he’d started to pick up speed, he cocked a brow and glanced up at her. While he may not have been able to go as deep as either of them would have liked, it was clear that he wished to move to a more suitable location - a sentiment she wholeheartedly condoned. Looking over and nodding to the doorway which led to the living room, she lowered her legs and snapped them closed around his hips.

Without saying a word, he took her cue to heart. Bringing one arm around her back and the other around her derriere, he pulled her up, cradled her to his chest, and stood. There wasn’t a place in the house that they hadn’t screwed, even rutting on top of the laundry machine a handful of times, though they had their favored spots. Running her tongue up his chest and to his collar, coating her taste buds in the flavor of his sweat, she angrily clamped her stuffed cunt around his shaft.

It took him no more than a few seconds to reach the sofa, and he wasted no time after seating himself. No sooner did he recline and make himself comfortable than they both started to move. As she flexed her legs and wantonly fucked herself on him, leaving her breasts to sway and heave atop her distended belly, he planted his feet and pounded into her from below.

She saw no reason to ask how many mares he’d been with in the past, having assumed his carnal skill had been honed to a razored edge by bedding any number of partners before her, but she was beyond appreciative of his sexual prowess. He knew just how hard to push her, being just intense enough to drive her to the edge of what she could withstand, and this time was no different.

With a low growl, he held her hip in one hand while twisting and pulling on her right nipple with the other. The trace of discomfort elevated her rapture beyond comprehension and was enough to make her whimper with glee. Yeah, there was no doubt about it - once she brought their little filly or colt into the world, it wasn’t a matter of if she’d get knocked up again, but when.

“D…don’t stop,” she stammered while the tip of his length battered her womb.

He obliged her request and hastened his pace. His zeal was unbelievable and made her strength and endurance look pitiable in comparison, but he adored it - craved it like nothing else in the world. She’d spent most of her life thinking she’d have to settle for a stallion who was weaker than her, selecting the best that ponykind had to offer, so finding him was like a gift from Celestia herself.

On and on he went, all but forcing her to surrender. Robbed of her strength, she reveled in the rapture he delivered. Each of his thrusts drove her body upward and sent catastrophic waves of pleasure surging through her, bringing her to her limit over the span of mere minutes. It was impossible for her to say if there were any stallions in Equestria or beyond that were as incredible as him, though she had no intention of ever leaving him to find out.

Wrapping his hand around her ponytail, he pulled her head back and delivered the killing blow. She screamed in unfettered bliss, her body quaked, and a torrent of nectar flowed from around his throbbing length. He grunted in appreciation, but he didn’t slow - if anything, he doubled down and plowed her harder and faster than he had been before she’d cum all over him.

One climax bled into another, reducing her to a gibbering, convulsing heap atop him. At some point or another, though she knew not when, she’d fallen forward onto him. She clawed and caressed at his back, lost to the lunacy that was her ecstasy, until she snapped from her nirvanic stupor when he snarled and fiercely grabbed her ass with both hands.

The feeling of him painting her insides with his essence, claiming her and marking her in the most intimate of ways, was the cherry on what was already a divine cake. Though she was already expecting, the idea of him impregnating her gave her a final, devastating orgasm as he fell still and fitfully bucked his hips. She basked in her euphoric afterglow, savoring the feeling steadily rising and falling on his heaving bosom, though she knew the moment was finite.

“Y…ya think Mac and your sister a…are gonna work out alright?” she croaked, shudderingly lifting her head to look up at him.

With a broad confident smile on his face, he playfully squeezed her tush and nodded. “Jasi…”

There were things she had to do, such as finishing supper and giving herself a much-needed shower, but those could wait just a little while longer. Phenomenal sex aside, she genuinely cherished Ina and was grateful they’d crossed paths, but he hadn’t been the only zebra to come and visit the farm looking for work. Musing on her brother and his newfound love interest, she snickered and closed her eyes. While her mate could be a handful in both the literal and figurative sense, his sister was the real live-wire of the two…

Big Mac

Lumbering along while pulling a cart laden with apples, Big Mac grunted when something soft and warm landed on his shoulder. He didn’t turn to look, he didn’t break his stride - heck, he barely even batted an eye, because he knew what, or rather whom had had decided to spontaneously hitch a ride on him. Sensing the weight on him shift, he knit his brow when he was fully mounted.

“Whew,” an impish voice from above crept to his ears. “That was one heck of a long day ~ huh?”

“Eeeyup,” he impassively replied, attempting to ignore the balmy heat radiating on the back of his neck. Reflexively lifting a hand to grab her ankle, seeing and feeling her momentarily lose balance, he grimaced when two soft mounds came to rest atop his head.

Extending her arm and grabbing the yolk hanging from his neck, his passenger idly fiddled with the piece of equipment. “I’ve been meaning to ask, is this uncomfortable?”

Throwing his head from side to side, he crested a hill and spotted the homestead in the distance. “Nope…”

The added burden wasn’t enough to bother him, especially since he’d carried Apple Bloom and her friends in a similar way when they’d been younger, yet his energetic cargo wasn’t content to simply sit still. A pair of heels bounced back and forth on his pecs, a carefree humming filled the air, and the load straddling his neck shifted in seemingly random directions, but it wasn’t until he was blinded by his load decided to cover his eyes that he came to a stop.

“What’s with that face?” the lilting voice tittered. “It’s not like I - Ooooooh…”

He knew the tone, recognizing the implications without realizing what was about to happen. Blinking rapidly and lurching forward, he steadied himself when his passenger spun around, hooked her knees behind his neck, and dangled upside down with her back against his chest. It took everything he had not to grin down at her, looking past her billowing shirt, exposed midriff and chest, and to her beaming face.

Shooting him a wink, she effectively did a hanging crunch and brought herself closer to him. “You were just wanting a better view ~ weren’t ya?”

He almost affirmed her suspicions - almost, but he remained quiet and kept his lips sealed. Her name was Ẹfin, but nobody, not even her own brother, called her that. Going by E for short, she’d shown up on the farm one day with her older and substantially bigger sibling, Ira, in search of a job. Seeing as how Granny Smith, Applejack, and himself held anyone looking for an honest day’s work in high regard, his family had agreed to employ the pair on the spot.

Ira, much like himself, proved to be the strong, silent type over the span of a single day, though Ẹfin was another matter entirely. While Mac had initially had reservations about the little mare, given her diminutive size, her nigh endless levels of energy and her positive attitude made up for her short stature and relatively slender frame. If he couldn’t buck the apples off a tree, she’d clamber up it like a spider money and start picking fruit - when she was unable to haul a full cart, she’d unload just enough to pull the thing, rush it back to the barn, then bolt back to gather up what she’d left behind.

All in all, Ẹfin, or Effy as he thought of her, busted her hump like she’d grown up on Sweet Apple Acres herself - that said, she could be quite a headache. For starters, she talked a lot, sometimes seemingly holding conversations with herself, and the only times she was quiet for a protracted period of time was when she was asleep - secondly and just as prudently, she didn’t have a modest bone in her body. Bras and underwear were a novelty, she’d routinely make passes at him, and she wasn’t above flashing some skin just to get a rise out of someone - all of which struck him as novel and more alluring than he cared to admit.

There’d been mares who’d been sweet on him in the past, complimenting him or eyeing him from afar, but Effy was different. The feisty mare was a perfect foil for him, save for his devotion to his family and his commitment to earning his keep, and she occupied his thoughts more and more as time went on. He’d weathered her flirting easily enough at first, shrugging off her frisky advances while telling himself that she was just teasing him, but had changed just a week prior.

With a harvest of an early crop of zap apples behind them, he’d decided to treat himself to a few hard ciders - hard ciders which Effy had apparently sniffed out and politely asked he share with her. Seeing no harm in letting her have a drink or two with him, he’d passed her a bottle, offered her a mute cheers, and started to relax. The good news was that he’d ended up having a pleasant evening - the bad news was that he’d woken up in bed with her beside himself.

“I didn’t think it’d get this hot so far north,” she noted, snapping him back to the present.

Peeking down at her, he stiffened in more ways than one when she began fanning her shirt. Her build was not unlike a triathlete, streamlined and tone, built for speed, and she wasn’t afraid to flaunt what she had. Feeling his stallionhood stir, he cursed under his breath and gave what he hoped she’d take for an irritated snort.

She twisted and released her blouse, letting the comparatively oversized garment fall over her bare tits while she glanced at his crotch. “Now I get it! It’s not hot because of the weather!”

As he quirked a brow at her, unsure of what she was talking about, she brazenly reached behind herself and patted the bulge in his jeans. Being teased or ogled was one thing, but it was quite another to have someone, even someone as attractive as Effy, fondling his goods. Lifting his arms and wrapping his fingers around her calves, fully intent on dislodging her, she clamped her legs tighter and wolfishly smirked.

“Grabbing a mare’s legs without even asking first ~” she chuckled, her voice dripping with sinful intent, “Big Macintosh, what would Granny Smith say about that?”

He wanted to be upset with her, not for the least of which reasons being she’d brought Granny Smith into this, but his annoyance grew tainted with amusement. There were perilously few ponies, stallions or otherwise, who’d openly joke with him, but she was one of them. Feeling her relax slightly, he watched her hook her thumbs over the waistband of her daisy dukes.

“Like Ah wuz sayin’,” she began in an out-and-out dreadful imitation of a southern drawl, “it’s so galdarn hot out here ‘cause you’re steamin’ up the place!”

Though he tried his hardest not to laugh at her, seeing her wiggling her hips and turning her nose away from him, he couldn’t help but chortle. Outside of her brother and a small number of zebras who’d moved to Ponyville, he knew very few Zebricans - nevertheless, she was unique amongst them. Maybe it was because she was relatively young, roughly the same age as Bloom, or perhaps she felt like she had something to prove - whatever the case may be, she was the definition of a boisterous, outspoken tomboy.

Affixing him with her heavily-lidded gaze, she flashed her teeth at him while moving one hand to the front of her shorts. “Speaking of steamy…”

He could smell her arousal even before she’d unbuttoned her hotpants, yet the ambrosial, exotic aroma that wafted to his nose as she unzipped her fly hit him like a ton of bricks. Ponies had different ways of relaxing after a long day, some enjoyed a long, cool shower while others preferred a good meal - for Effy, as paradoxical as it was, she liked to unwind by exhausting herself with indecent endeavors.

“Wanna get a closer whiff?” she purred, revealing her sweat-streaked, snow-white bush.

Had he not been drawing a cart full of apples, he may have taken her up on the offer - sadly, considering he had to get the fruit back to the barn, that wasn’t the case. Tearing his eyes off her groin, he looked ahead and continued onward. There’d be time to fool around after they were finished up, so she’d have to be patient until then.

She grunted in indignation, flipped around, and landed on her feet beside him. “You want to shower off when we get back?”

Faintly smirking, he nodded. “Eeeyup.”

“Well then, mister party pooper, Ah reckon I’ll see you back at the house,” she shouted, breaking into a sprint and dashing ahead of him. “Don’t take too long, stud.”

Seeing her smack her ass and stick her tongue out at him, he hung and shook his head. What in the world was he going to do with her? Since she’d taken Applejack’s old room, having moved into the family home once his sister had moved into her little cottage, he was around her constantly. She’d quickly wormed her way into his heart, yet her presence evoked an unfamiliar turmoil within him.

As he plodded up to the barn, his ears swiveled to the sound of running water. The noise instantly set off alarm bells in his head, making him wonder if a spigot had sprung a leak, though the reality was somehow better and worse than what he’d feared. Looking over and seeing Effy standing just within the expansive structure, he nearly tripped over his feet.

“Big Mac,” she bleated, dropping the hose to cover her chest and nethers, “didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to walk in on a mare when she’s bathing?!”

As naked as the day she’d been born, her body glistened in the cool light of the cavernous structure. He would have turned away to spare her any embarrassment, had it not been for one small detail - she’d set this up as a trap. There was no possible way she hadn’t planned this, be it spontaneously or not, and her lack of dismay ran counter to her question.

He knew when he was beaten, when it was better to fold than to maintain a bluff, so he ponderously removed the yolk from around his neck, eased the cart’s tongue to the ground, and straightened up. While he had intended to give himself a conventional shower, the temptation of washing up with such a comely young mare was too strong to turn down. Turning his back to her and keeping his ears swung in her direction, he flicked his tail to the side.

She may have been an attractive little minx, but she wasn’t immune to the powers of seduction. Removing his shirt and throwing it over his shoulder, he stretched his arms over his head and flexed his back. Though he found her nearly irresistible, he knew she felt the same way about him. Sure enough, even before he could get his pants off, he heard her drop the hose and come sauntering over to him.

“Sooooo ~” she hummed, snaking her hands around his waist from behind, “you need a little help there?”

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he gave no reply. She’d successfully coaxed him into more lewd situations than he dared to count, taunting him until his stallionly instincts took the reins and compelled him to take her, so it only felt right to turn the tables on her from time to time. Feeling her unbutton and open his jeans, he allowed her to strip him.

With practiced precision, she pulled his pants and underwear down around his ankles. His semi-erect stallionhood flopped free and steamed in the cool air, countering her intoxicating bouquet with the scent of his musk, while she shuffled around his side to face him fully. Most mares would have considered a big, dirty, sweaty stallion unappealing - then again, she wasn’t an ordinary mare.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she pressed her cheek to the side of his hanging length as she reverently cradled his balls. “Hot damn - I swear I don’t know how you haven’t been snapped up by some lucky mare for so long.”

Keeping his eyes on her, he swallowed hard. Getting sucked off would be nice, bending her over and rutting her senseless would be even nicer, but there was something he’d been meaning to do for quite some time. Placing one hand on the top of her head, he stepped back and lifted a finger.

She paused and her mirthful expression wavered. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Nope,” he intoned, walking past her and to a stack of empty apple crates.

Reaching inside one of the unused containers, he closed his hand around a little box and took a deep breath. He’d known Effy for months, he’d watched as their respective siblings had fallen in love and started a family, and he was ready to take the plunge. For all her shortcomings, being crass and downright obscene at times, his coworker-made-friend was a constant source of happiness in what was otherwise a dull, uninteresting life.

He shudderingly exhaled, strode back to her, and sank to one knee. It was practically inevitable that he’d eventually find a special somepony for himself, yet he never would have guessed that that special somepony would have all but literally fallen in his lap. Extending his arms and opening his hand, he presented her with his unspoken proposal.

“Is…is that…” she trailed off as her eyes shot wide.

“Eeeyup…” he murmured.

Atypical conditions notwithstanding, his heart skipped a beat when she fervently nodded. Making an honest mare out of her would be a herculean endeavor, but he saw no need for that. He liked - no, loved her just the way she was, and he was overjoyed that she’d accepted his proposal. Bending forward at the waist, she brought her face closer to him.

He thought she was going to give him a kiss, something sweet to celebrate the occasion, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she shoved him off balance and sent him toppling onto his back. He landed with a dull thud and stared up at the ceiling, thrown off by the suddenness of her action, before she stepped over his head.

“Where I’m from, you don’t just give someone a piece of jewelry if you’re going to marry them,” she mused, gradually squatting down above him. “Don’t get me wrong, that ring is absolutely beautiful, but there’s something more important we need to do.”

Seating herself squarely on his face, she rolled her hips and ground her marehood against his lips. Feeling her lay atop him, pressing her breasts to his abdomen, he basked in her domineering glory. Her reaction was par for the course for her, jumping his bones if and when she was able, yet her mention of something important piqued his interest.

Bringing his hands to her waist, he let the tiny box fall and drew his tongue between her lower lips. To Tartarus with it - he hadn’t done anything but bought the ring for her, the ceremony was yet to be planned, and he felt certain that a pre-dinner appetizer wouldn’t hurt anything. Sucking on her clit, he earned himself a guttural groan for his efforts.

She was quick to react, lifting his cock to her muzzle and wrapping her lips around the tip of his shaft. Getting sucked off would have been enough to please him, no matter if he’d showered beforehand or not, but getting to eat her out while she blew him made the exchange all the more titillating. Her fragrance filled his sinuses with every breath, her sweat and marish juices danced over his palate, and the wondrous sensation of her tongue lavishing his length was all the inspiration he needed to forget about where they were.

Even though she was only able to service a fraction of his dick, slurping on the first few inches while stroking off the base with a hand, she gave as good as she got. Listening to her gag around him, sensing the tightness of her gullet around his cock-head, he lapped at her entrance like a hungry dog. His stoicism, his brute strength, and his imposing size didn’t scare her - on the contrary, they were things that had helped catch her eye in the first place.

“Gods ~” she gasped, pushing herself up and clearing her maw, “what do you feed this thing to get it so big?!”

He reluctantly withdrew, licked his lips, and caressed her side. She really really was one of a kind, in all ways but literally standing head and shoulders above every mare he’d ever crossed paths with, and she was all his. Seeing her crawl forward on her hands and knees, he went to push himself up but stopped when she wheeled around.

“Ooooooh no, you’re not going anywhere,” she laughed, pushing him back down. “We are going to fuck until you’ve pumped every drop of that hot, virile seed right into my cum-starved womb.”

Sweet, merciful Celestia - she had a dirty mouth on her, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Stroking her thighs as she rose up on her knees and placed her hands behind her head, he marveled at how gorgeous she was. Imagining what she’d look like carrying their foal, strutting around with a pair of milk-filled tits, a rounded belly, and maybe a little extra cushion for the pushin’, he grinned from ear to ear.

Trying to align his stallionhood with her entrance, she scowled. “But seriously though, why’s your - Nnnph - dick so damn big?”

Awkwardly getting her feet beneath her and getting into a squat, the only way she’d be able to impale herself, he lifted and bent his legs. He would’ve thought that she’d remember how to properly mount him by now, yet her eagerness would periodically get the better of her. Biding his time, he brought his hands behind his head, got comfortable, and enjoyed the view.

The moment her snatch kissed the tip of his stallionhood she threw her weight down and sheathed virtually all of his length. The sweltering, silken depths of her vice-like were incredible, but feeling her was only one facet of the experience. As his gaze shifted up from her stuffed, hairless entrance to her abdomen, he was treated to one benefit of her slight stature and svelte build.

Knowing where he was looking, she stroked the imprint of his cock. “You better - Mmmn - savor this,” she moaned, leaning back and bracing herself on his knees. “Once I’ve got a foal or three in me, especially if they’re your size, you won’t be able to see this for a while…”

Before she’d even finished speaking, she started riding him. Up and down, forward and back, she moved with a sensual grace that defied her vulgar nature. She could have taken any stallion she’d set her eyes on, wooing them and claiming them as her stud, yet she’d chosen to give herself to him.

He was usually the one in charge, plowing her from behind or when she was laying on her back, so the change of pace was refreshing. There were times when he wondered what she’d do if he was smaller or weaker than he was, and the idea of her dragging him back to her room to have her way with him was amusing. She knew what she’d signed up for, that he was one of the few stallions around who could pin her down and ruin her, but there were still moments where her hubris would bite her in the behind.

She threw her head back and mewled, cupping one tit and adding to the spectacle. He’d initially wondered if she was putting on a show when they were screwing, taken aback by how loud and enthusiastic she was, though he was starting to believe she wasn’t - if she was, she was somehow able to make herself cum on demand. Bucking herself on him, bouncing against his medial ring, she lurched forward and braced an arm on his chest.

“You - Huff - gonna lay there and make me do all the work?” she breathed.

Getting her to ask him to take a more active role was one of the many things he enjoyed about being with her, but he wasn’t about to make her beg. Grabbing hold of her tush, he steadied her and drove his hips upward. Her rapturous squeal was music to his ears, reminding him of the many nights they’d accidentally woken up Granny Smith with their amorous romps, and it stoked the flames of his growing lust.

Seizing the reins and wrestling control from her, he used his titanic body to full effect. She whimpered and grunted with every plunge of his colossal stallionhood, having the air forced from her lungs, while he steadily let his libido eclipse his normally tranquil demeanor. If she wanted it hard, she was going to get it hard.

“R…right there,” she rasped, her motions faltering.

He’d been with her long enough to recognize the signs, to tell when she was getting close, so he knew she was teetering on the brink. Pulling out all the stops and slamming his medial ring into her, jamming the head of his dick against her womb, he caused her to climax with ease. Orgasmic nectar erupted from her marehood, adding to the sweat on his legs and groin, but it wasn’t enough to make him relent.

One of the best, most rewarding things about her was how easily he could make her cum multiple times in short order. Showing her no restraint, giving in to his urge to conquer her, he set his jaw and gave her his all. As with most things involving her, excluding her chattiness, he was in charge when he wanted to be.

Pushing himself up on one arm, he kissed her cheek and prompted her to lift her head. Bedding her was a wondrous experience, but it was made all the sweeter when it went beyond merely bestial sex. As she unsteadily looked up at him, he shot forward and sank his tongue into her mouth.

Her second climax struck with his kiss, lending more weight to what he’d known all along. While it may have been in her own special way, she truly did love him for more than just his looks or his endowment. Growling while he made out with her, he slowly extended and lowered one leg to the ground. He may have been gradually reaching his limit, but he still had a long way to go until he was finished with her.

Waiting until she’d cum a third time, he threw his weight to one side and rolled her onto her back. The dust and hay on the barn floor, the fact that they were out in the open, their sweaty, heated bodies grinding against one another - none of that mattered. In that moment, entwined on an all but spiritual level, his only desire was to give her what they both wanted.

There’d been one thing he’d been wanting to try with her since their first tryst, and the time had finally come for him to drop the hammer. He’d pulled out every other time they’d fucked, hesitant to creampie her for fear of ending up with a foal out of wedlock, though that was no longer a concern. Reaching back and snatching her ankles, he drove her legs up and to either side of her head.

“Fuck yes!” she blared, writhing while he put her in a mating press. “Fuck a foal into me you big, magnificent pony!”

Screwing his eyes shut, he staved off his inevitable release for as long as he could. Visions of her in a bridal gown at their wedding, strutting down the aisle to take his hand while being heavily pregnant, assailed him and undid what his efforts to hold himself back. She was wracked with no fewer than three more climaxes before he passed the point of no return, although the gratification of bringing her ecstasy was eclipsed by sowing his seed in her.

He bellowed before biting her collar, elevating her bliss while he flooded her with his essence. There was a realistic chance that she wouldn’t get knocked up from his first load, or that she wasn’t even ovulating at the time, which was why her statement from earlier warmed the depths of his heart. One way or another, even if it took all night, they weren’t leaving the barn until new life blossomed within her.

Just as he began to slow, content to give them both a small break, she pushed his head back and peered into his eyes. “We…we’re not - Cough - done yet…”

Taking advantage of his momentary frailty, she freed her legs, kicked off, and somehow managed to get herself atop him. All he could do was stare slack-jawed at her, amazed beyond words that she had the strength to not only move him but to bounce on his still-throbbing cock. With a manic grin on her face, gyrating her hips and rubbing her cum-bloated tummy, she took the lead yet again.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” she wheezed.

He smiled as he languidly started thrusting up to meet her descents, moving in perfect sync with her. “Eeeyup…”

Apple Bloom

“Alright, alright,” Apple Bloom contentedly sighed, strolling out of the kitchen, “Ah’m comin’.”

Stopping by a crib sat in her living room, she smiled down at her child. Covered in black and white stripes, with the smallest tuft of a mohawk atop his little head, the cooing baby looked up at her with big, ice-blue eyes and reached for her. Had she not known better, she could have sworn the adorable colt was a full-blooded zebra, but that wasn’t the case.

Leaning over and gently plucking the foal from its crib, she beamed. “C’mon, let’s get you some breakfast.

She turned, stepped over to the sofa, and seated herself with a labored grunt. Her life had changed a lot over the last year and been full of twists and turns, yet she was happier than she’d ever been. She’d found a lover, she’d given birth to a wondrous colt, and her family had converted the loft above the barn into a full-fledged home for her and her growing family - a family that would soon be getting even bigger. Pulling her shirt upward, she peered past her heavy, leaking bosoms and to her rounded belly.

“Now don’t you go bitin’, Inkosi,” she tutted, bringing the bab to her right breast.

As her foal’s snout met her teat, he latched on and instantly began to nurse. He was a healthy eater, already larger and heavier for a pony his age, and she had no doubt that he’d be taking after his father. The thought of her mate, the Zebrican who’d won her heart and claimed her womb, never failed to warm her heart - not just because she loved him dearly, but because he’d made an honest mare out of her.

It wasn’t two years prior that she’d been an absolute mess. Days after she’d turned eighteen, she’d dropped out of school and gleefully flung herself into her chosen profession - producing the most depraved, fetishized striped porn that anyone could imagine. The influx of zebras had made quite a market for adult material involving the big, unimaginably well-hung studs, and she, as well as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, had found their calling being railed out on camera.

Having sex with a zebra was phenomenal, not even remotely similar to being bedded by a pony stallion, which was exactly why she and her friends had chosen her perverse profession; the money had been good, she barely considered it work, and she always - always ended up having the most mind-melting orgasms imaginable. She would have kept her job as a porn star, had it not been for one small development - she’d fallen for one of her fellow performers. From the moment she watched Ubaba strut onto set, she knew she’d found the one.

Her friends had told her she’d been crazy to want to date a fellow adult film actor, but that hadn’t stopped her from asking him out for dinner. To her pleasant surprise, he’d accepted her offer and taken her on an absolutely incredible date, then a second and a third, before they were seeing each other constantly. The more time they spent together, the closer they became - the closer they became, the less interest they had in giving their bodies to anyone but one another. Eventually, after several months had passed, they bid their careers adieu and moved back to Sweet Apple Acres.

Granny Smith had been elated to give Ubaba a job, thankful to have another strong back around for all the manual labor, and her siblings were happy to have him around. The colossus was as big-hearted as he was soft-spoken, very similar to her brother Big Macintosh, and he was welcomed by her family like he’d been an Apple all along - of course it helped that she’d been expecting at the time, having given up the use of contraceptives when she’d stopped slinging leg for cash, but she felt certain that he would have won over her kin regardless. A pang of pain and pleasure rocked her from her memories and caused her to peer at the foal cradled in her arm.

“Ah told ya not to bite, darn it,” she playfully chastised, tussling the colt’s mane.

She’d never given motherhood much thought when she was younger, oftentimes waxing poetic about how she wouldn’t ever be held down by having a kid or getting married, although that had been prior to her meeting the love of her life. Ubaba hadn’t tried to hide his desire to sire a foal or two with her, going on and on about how they’d be fantastic parents, and he’d ultimately wooed her on the subject. There was no actual way she could tell when she’d been knocked up, having unprotected sex with him on a near-daily basis, but she liked to think it was on the night of her nineteenth birthday.

While she’d been a bit nervous when she’d found out she was expecting, after getting checked out by her family doctor and getting confirmation, she’d loved every single day of her pregnancy. The morning sickness she’d dreaded was barely an issue, the aching feet never bothered her, and the weight she’d packed on had only accentuated her curves and given her a tremendous boost in confidence, yet all those paled in comparison to the day she’d brought Inkosi into the world. Maybe it was because of her family’s lineage, growing up on a farm, or some combination of the two, but the joy of giving birth and continuing her bloodline had been anything but debilitating - in fact, it had been thrilling.

Shifting the baby in her arm, she reclined on the sofa and spread her legs. She didn’t wear much when she was around the house, typically one of Ubaba’s huge t-shirts and a pair of panties, but that was for a number of reasons. Lactating made her breasts extremely sensitive, to the point where she’d often ask her stud to suck them when they were getting frisky, but the bigger issue was she didn’t want to constantly drench her bras with milk. She slid forward slightly and allowed her moist, humid panties to get some air, while her free hand crept down her side and to her hip.

Though she did know a small number of mothers in Ponyville, the last thing she was going to do was to ask them if it was normal to get aroused while being nursed on by a foal. The physical stimulation of having her nipples played with had always been a turn-on for her, yet that enjoyment had grown by an order of magnitude now that she was a mother. Slipping her fingers into her panties, she gnawed her lip and massaged her aching marehood.

She hated to admit it, but getting off while feeding her foal had become a relatively common occurrence. It wasn’t that Ubaba didn’t tend to her sensual needs, ensuring she was always satisfied in his company, but that was the problem - he wasn’t around to tend to her needs. Her big, affectionate stud, Celestia bless him, was out in the orchard preparing for the fall harvest, leaving her to her own devices for the next several hours.

Lifting a leg and placing her heel on the coffee table, she pulled her panties to the side and drew a finger between her lower lips. Masturbating, as shameful as it was, only barely managed to scratch her carnal itch. After all the zebras she’d been fucked by over the years, not to the utterly massive stallionhood she got filled with practicality every night, using her hand was almost laughable; even the dildo she kept in her underwear drawer, a toy she’d used to warm herself up before shoots, couldn’t hold a candle to the genuine article. Rubbing her clit and bucking into her hand, taking care to keep her foal steady, she rolled her head back and lightly groaned.

A part of her missed being in front of a camera, screaming in rapture while being railed by two or even three striped studs at a time, although she’d put that life of hedonism behind her. Now that she was in a real relationship, she didn’t have to worry about prettying herself up every day, she regularly got to see her siblings and grandmother, and the quietness of the farm was far more relaxing than the hustle and bustle of Manehattan where she’d lived and worked. As she effortlessly sank three digits into herself, focusing on getting a bit of relief, she failed to notice the sound of heavy footfalls moving up the stairs and toward the front door.

A soft moan escaped her, she bucked into her hand, and she held her foal to her heavy tit, gradually losing herself to her desires, when she came to an abrupt stop. Her ears swiveled to the entryway and her heart skipped a beat, hearing the door crack open. Considering she lived on the very farm she’d grown up on, miles away from Ponyville, the only time she locked up was if she, her lover, and her family were leaving the homestead vacant for more than a few hours. Withdrawing her hand and jamming a pillow between her legs, lest someone stumble in and see what she’d been doing, she straightened up and tried to make herself presentable.

“Hope I’m not interrupting any…” Ubaba trailed off as his eyes settled on her.

She timidly smiled back at him, feigning innocence. Fortunately, she’d only been walked in on by her mate - unfortunately, seeing a knowing smile slowly split his features, he knew what she’d been up to. Though she’d only been at it for a few minutes at most, she could tell that she was blushing, she’d worked up a bit of a sweat, and she wouldn’t be shocked if the room smelled of sex. Covering her left bosom, she waved at him.

“Y’all done for the day already?” she inquired, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “Ah figured y’all’d be out there for -”

“It’ll be another few hours, yes, although there are such things as lunch breaks,” he interrupted, crossing to the sofa.

Craning her neck, she gazed up at him in wonder. Both tall and exquisitely muscular, he was the definition of a gentle giant - well, gentle most of the time. While she’d never seen him truly angry, the raw power he wielded in bed left nothing to be desired - so much so that she’d had to ask Big Mac to reinforce their bed. Her eyes wandered from his adonic face, down his glistening, chiseled chest and abs, and to his groin, before she pursed her lips and shook her head to dislodge the insidious, lecherous thoughts from her mind.

“Heh - yeah,” she nervously laughed, swinging her attention back to her foal. “Ah reckon you and your father really are alike.”

He nodded and came to a halt by her side, towering over her. “I suppose we are - then again, I’m sure our daughter will take after you.”

Making a concerted effort not to look up at him or the tremendous bulge in his shorts, she shrugged. “We’ll have to see about that one. Honestly, between the two of us, I’m a little nervous about having our daughter.”

“Worried she’ll end up with your tastes?” he joked, slowly sinking to one knee.

“Naw - well, yeah, kinda,” she admitted, recalling some of her wilder experiences when she’d blossomed into adulthood. “S’long as we don’t - H…hey!”

Grabbing her knee and effortlessly lifting her leg, he shuffled between her thighs. “What?”

“What do ya think you’re doin, Mister?” she quipped, glowering down at him. “Ah hope you ain’t fixin’ to try nothin’ funny!”

“Funny?” he repeated, quirking a brow. “Perish the thought. As I said, I’m here on my lunch break.”

She peeked over to the kitchen before turning her eyes back to him. “The foods over there, in case ya forgot.”

“On the contrary,” he countered, hefting her knees up and onto her shoulders. “The sweetest dish of all is right here.”

Her thoughts raced, her heart fluttered, and marehood clenched as realization dawned upon her. He may have been there to get something legitimate to eat, but he wasn’t opposed to helping himself to an appetizer. Feeling Inkosi fidget, likely because he was still hungry, she drew her shirt up and carefully shifted him to her other tit.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?” he asked as his nose drifted closer and closer to her groin.

“N…no…” she hesitantly replied.

No sooner had the word left her mouth than he pressed his snout to the dampened cloth over her nethers, drew a deep breath through his sinuses, and rumbled a sigh. They fucked more times than she dared to count, both in private and in front of a film crew, and he could tell when she was excited at a glance - worse still, the stud had an almost preternatural way of making her wet.

Despite herself and the foal suckling on her teat, she rolled her hips upward ground her snatch against Ubaba’s lips. Though it was true that neither she nor her lover were in the adult industry anymore, their carnal appetites were still extraordinarily powerful. The good news was that they were well aware of one another’s weak spots, the best ways to please each other - the bad news was that, regardless of where they were or who they were around, their raging libidos rode a hair trigger.

Bending one knee and flexing her leg, she pulled him in and locked his face to her loins. She was sure that he’d merely come home with the intention of getting something to eat - something to actually eat, but she wasn’t about to pass on the opportunity of getting a bit of action. Even if he only ended up eating her out, the oral would be leagues better than anything she could do to herself.

“Wantin’ to start with dessert ~ huh?” she giggled.

He cautiously shifted his mouth to the side, bit down on her panties, and reared back. In the blink of an eye, her undergarment became crotchless, but she wasn’t concerned. Seeing as how she bought most of her clothes in bulk, after she’d lost more than a few garments reduced to tatters in fits of passion, the loss of a single article was a small price to pay for a bit of enjoyment.

Running his thick, powerful tongue up her sex and to her engorged clit, he chuckled and peered up at her. “Perhaps I could help you make a cream pie before I go back to work.”

She whimpered and bit down on a finger to stifle herself, hoping she wouldn’t disturb her foal, as he began lapping at her pussy. Inkosi was far too young to have the slightest inkling what she and her father were doing, not to mention he was more interested in filling his belly than the lewd shenanigans going on, so she didn’t feel guilty for his presence. A time would come when her precious colt would get old enough to make things complicated, when she’d have to be a bit more surreptitious becoming intimate with Ubaba, but that wouldn’t be for several years.

“As sweet as ever,” Ubaba mused, smacking his lips. “This evening, after I’m done in the orchard, would you like to return the favor?”

“Y…yeah…” she muttered, her hair standing on end.

Celestia forgive her, there was something spectacularly decadent about licking the sweat off her mate’s naked body. He smelled as good as he looked, every part of him tasted exquisite, and she wouldn’t deny that she’d choked herself on his stallionhood and rimmed him on a regular basis. There was a reason why she and her friends had become notorious for serving zebras, relishing everything about their exotic bodies and immense endowments, and her crippling addiction for them had never faded in the slightest.

He closed his eyes and fully committed himself, feasting on her marehood like it was the last meal he’d ever eat. His tongue, much like the rest of him, was finely trained and a downright gift to any mare he’d ever gone down on. Locking her legs around his thick, heavily muscled neck, she leaned forward and glided her fingers through his tall mohawk.

She wouldn’t have asked him to indulge her, especially because he’d be expected back in the orchard before too long, but the last thing she was going to do was stop him. Bending one arm and wrapping it around her thigh, while he snaked his other hand behind her lower back, he peeked up at her and hummed. She knew the look in his eyes, she’d seen it dozens of times before, so she secured her legs around him and shifted her weight forward.

Holding her tightly, he lifted her off the sofa with ease. It would be a tall order for her to list each and every one of the reasons she loved him, but his raw strength was definitely one of his more defining features. Navigating totally by feel, having memorized the layout of their home, he turned and plodded over to a nearby wall.

Getting her pussy eaten had been a pleasant surprise, but being held aloft with her back pressed to a wall, all while pregnant and nursing her son, added a deliciously erotic element to the mix. She rested her tits atop his head and kept a tight grip on her foal, while she closed her eyes and fixated on the waves of bliss his godly lips and tongue imparted. Feeling him swallow down a mouthful of her nectar, knowing how much he adored pleasing her, she fought to keep her thighs from trembling.

His ministrations could have gone on without end, even past when she eventually baptized his face in her climactic juices, yet a murmur of protest brought both her and her stud to a dead stop. Turning her head, she looked down upon Inkosi. The small foal had unlatched from her teat and was wriggling about in the crook of her arm, mutely telling her he was finished with his meal.

“Ah really, really hate ta stop ya, but lemme just put him in his crib,” she whispered, glancing to her mate’s face.

Ubaba stepped back and gingerly lowered her to the floor, after she swung her legs from off his shoulders. “You truly are an amazing mother.”

“Ya say that, but just hold that thought until this little fella and his sister get older,” she laughed, trotting over and resting the satisfied, weary foal in his crib. “If’n they’re half as bad as Ah think they’ll be, Ah’m gonna - Eeep!”

She squeaked in surprise as she was scooped up from behind into a princess carry. Finding herself pressed against his chest, staring up at her lover, she swooned. Though Ubaba talked a touch more than her brother, he still preferred to let his actions speak for him. The titan delicately eased her down lengthwise upon the sofa, leaving her rump resting on one of the two arms, and unbuttoned his pants.

“I would take my time, but I’m afraid we’ll have to settle for a quickie,” he mused, slipping his jeans down his legs.

Seeing his midnight-black stallionhood spring free, she reflexively spread her legs and began twisting her nipples. “S’long as you make it up to me before we hit the hay tonight, Ah ain’t gonna complain.”

With practiced ease, he guided the tip of his cock to her sopping wet entrance, bent forward, and brought himself face to face with her. “Of course, my little Inkosazana.”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she lifted her head and locked lips with him. His tongue forced its way into her muzzle while his cock sank into her awaiting depths, making her toes curl in delight. She’d never really considered herself much of a religious type, tending to explain away even the most peculiar circumstances that life hurtled at her, but there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t thank her lucky stars for having him in her life.

Like a lock and key, they became one. Most mares would have felt self-conscious about having slept with dozens and dozens of zebras, both stallions and mares alike, but not her - not with her lover. Though they’d both done unspeakably wanton things for the camera, and they’d loved their jobs, that was the past. Now that she had him and the family he’d given her, all she wanted was him - a sentiment he’d confessed to her more times than he could count.

Breaking their kiss, he brought his muzzle to her ear. “After our daughter comes into the world, will you travel with me to Zebrica?”

“O...of course - Oh buck - Ah will,” she wheezed, wrapping her legs around his hips.

She rhythmically contracted and relaxed her stuffed marehood while bucking up to meet his thrusts. Her fears about becoming loose after giving birth to their son had proven unwarranted, in part or in full due to a combination of elixirs he’d had made to aid in her recovery, and she was just as tight as she’d ever been - well, if he was to be believed anyways. Grunting every time his blunt cock-head beat against her womb, she twisted her head and met his eyes.

While she never thought she’d consider a stallion beautiful, he fit the term perfectly. There wasn’t a single thing she’d change about him, from who and what he was to his gargantuan size, and she genuinely loved him in every way. Sensing herself growing closer to her limit, despite the innumerable times he’d rutted her, she tapped her heel against him.

His lips parted and he smiled as he increased his pace. “Once we’re - Mmmm - in my homeland, I could consummate my love for you before my tribe.”

“Gosh yes,” she groaned, her eyes drifting to the back of her head.

He’d made many promises over their relationship, but being ritualistically striped and bred in front of his kind was something she’d been looking for. The mere thought of being placed on a table and filled, accepting his seed to bear a third child for them, was enough to test the limits of her endurance. Arching her back and frantically shaking her hips, doing what she could to spur him on, she howled out when he lowered his head and bit down on her left nipple.

The additional stimulation, of feeling his teeth and luscious, pouting lips around her areola, did her in. Her body seized uncontrollably, she clawed at his back, and a geyser of nectar sprayed from her filled cunt. He could and often did play her like a fiddle, giving her several orgasms before he came a single time, and this exchange, however brief, was no different.

With his thighs, waist, and crotch coated in her juices, he hammered into her with unyielding force. Though his thrusts would be considered merciless by many, he was actually quite gentle with her in comparison to how rough he could really be - nevertheless, it wasn’t long before their cozy little home was filled with the sound of her ecstatic braying. Wading through the nigh-overpowering tide of rapture he delivered, she fought to return his affection with everything she had.

She knew first hand that he could last for nearly an hour, his stamina being enough to satiate a half-dozen mares without pause, yet his mastery over his body was almost preternatural. He snorted and rested his chin on her shoulder, setting his jaw as he willed himself to give her what they both desired. In a matter of seconds, not more than ten minutes after he’d first sheathed his length in her, she sensed his stallionhood beginning to flare.

“Do it,” she mewled, feebly pawing at him, “make me your broodmare!”

She’d enjoyed her first pregnancy, she was loving her second, and she’d bet every bit she’d ever had that she’d love every pregnancy she had in the future. Something about the weight of a foal in her belly, the killer curves she developed, and being able to strut around while showing off her fertility got her fires burning bright. Willing herself not to climax, she held her breath and waited for the inevitable.

He tensed, kissed the tip of his shaft to her cervix, and came. His cock pulsed wildly, a deluge of his essence surged into her, and he grunted softly with every light twitch of his hips. Having a stallion - any stallion cum inside her was a magical experience, although having Ubaba claim her was an experience that had and likely never would get old. They were meant for one another, two parts of a whole, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it.

A minute or two passed before he straightened up and smirked down at her. “A little better than your hand ~ wouldn’t you say?”

“D…darn tootin’,” she giggled. “Ah’ll have everything cleaned up before you get home this afternoon.”

“I know you will,” he noted, stepping back and hauling his softening length free. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Practically scrambling to sit up, she swung her legs off the side of the cough, leaned over, and grabbed the base of his cum-slathered cock. Old habits died hard - that and she honestly loved sucking a stallion clean after they were through with her. Mopping his shaft with her tongue and lips, she quietly moaned and rubbed her aching marehood. He’d sacrificed nearly half his lunch break for her, purely to make her happy, so it was the least she could do to send him on his way with a spit-shined stallionhood.

She peeked up at him and lost herself in his eyes. There were some ponies in Equestria who weren’t happy about the Zebrican refugees, but they’d change their minds sooner or later; even her own family hadn’t been thrilled with the influx of so many zebras - hadn’t being the important part. As she dragged her tongue up her lover’s flaccid shaft, savoring the cocktail of his cum and her juices on her palate, she couldn’t help but wonder how her sister and brother were doing with their respective mates…

Birch Bucket

Kneeling down inside the linen closet of one of the La-Ti-Da Spa’s massage rooms, Birch Bucket held his breath. It was unlike him to be hiding somewhere on the job, much preferring to spend his shifts working to pass the time, yet the anguish he’d been suffering through for the last month had forced his hand. He shifted, making himself as comfortable as possible, given the confined area, and expectantly peered through the slats on the door.

He’d initially been thrilled with the influx of Zebricans coming to Ponyville, hoping they’d bring more business to the spa, yet his good spirits had almost immediately taken a turn. For starters, most of the zebras which came to town had been stallions - secondly and even more alarmingly, the big, striped studs had been lowering his already dwindling chances at finding a single mare for himself. The door to the chamber just outside opened, snapping him from his thoughts, and a quartet of familiar figures entered.

No sooner had Aloe, Lotus, and an identical pair of Zebrican stallions entered than the mares kicked the door closed and began to undress. Birch had been well aware of what his coworkers had been doing with customers, having heard blissful whimpers and sensual promises in the hallways of the spa on more times than he could possibly count, although he’d abstained from indulging his curiosity until this moment. With a trembling hand, seeing the nubile unicorns’ naked bodies, he reached down and unzipped his fly.

He didn’t like to beat himself up, although life had dealt him a terrible hand. While being well into middle age would have made finding romance hard enough in and of itself, he honestly didn’t have much going for him. His physique wasn’t the best, he didn’t make all that many bits working at the spa, and his stallionhood - well, his stallionhood wasn’t what it used to be. Even when he’d been younger, his endowment hadn’t been anything to write home about, yet he’d been having increasing difficulty with getting and staying hard.

The pair of zebras, twins which went by Phezulu and Phansi, chuckled to themselves while the mares undressed them. Though he couldn’t tell the two stallions apart, he knew for a fact that they’d taken a particular interest in Aloe and Lotus; every time they showed up, the sisters would tend to their needs - all their needs, which was the only reason why he’d been able to secret himself away for their appointment. Watching the unicorns unbutton and pull the studs’ pants down, he was hit with a wave of envy and arousal.

Phezulu and Phansi were half his age, yet either one of them was more of a stallion than he could ever dare to be. Even from a few feet away, tucked away in his closet, he could see that their stallionhoods made his cock look absolutely puny in comparison. Nearly as big as either of the mares’ arms, jet-black and nearly as thick as his wrist, the zebras’ lengths could and, given the direction things were going, would utterly demolish Aloe and Lotus’ once-pristine marehoods.

“I…I can’t wait anymore,” Aloe stammered, hopping onto one of the two beds and crassly splaying her legs. “I’ve been rubbing myself all morning thinking about this.”

Mirroring her sister, Lotus nodded and affectionately stroked one stud’s gradually hardening shaft. “Don’t worry, you can swab our throats after you pump a load into us.”

The stallion, Phezulu if Birch was right, effortlessly lifted the mare and placed her opposite of her sibling. “If you ask nicely, we may let you suck us clean after we breed you.”

“Brother, you’re too lenient,” the other zebra laughed, stepping between Aloe’s legs and resting his cock over her groin. “They should be the ones paying us for the particularly deep massage.”

Aloe writhed on the bed and pawed at her tits as she peered up at him. “I…I don’t care about bits. We weren’t going to charge you anyways.”

“Of course you weren’t,” Phansi hummed, grabbing the unicorn’s ankles. “Beg for it; convince us that you -”

“Please!” Aloe pleaded, cutting him off. Abandoning her chest, she reached down and spread her marehood for him. “I need that fat, zebra cock of yours!”

“You do,” Phansi mused, “because now you realize that no pony stallion could ever satisfy you.”

Stepping back and drawing his stallionhood down her abdomen, he aligned himself and bucked his hips. The whorish moan which escaped her as she was penetrated was quickly joined by an equally guttural groan from Lotus. There was no buildup, no gradual escalation or foreplay; the Zebrican twins, moving in almost perfect sync, simply set to plowing the mares like they were little more than sex-toys.

Birch’s pupils dilated, he tightened his grip on his semi-flaccid stallionhood, and the breath hitched in his throat while he watched the obscene display. From where he knelt, he couldn’t see everything perfectly, but he could see enough to get his heart racing. The sight of the brothers railing his coworkers was infuriating and thrilling in equal measure, evoking a juxtaposed cocktail of emotions.

He could have reported the scandalous tryst to the manager, but he could never do something like that to the mares he’d had a crush on since he started working at the spa. He softly panted, the softened length in his grasp leaked pre-cum over his fingers, and he knit his brow as the scent of sex wafted to his nostrils. He would have given anything to be so lucky, to be a tall, strong, well-hung stud who had mares begging him to fuck him - sadly, like the miserable degenerate he was, he’d been resigned to spectating on something he’d never get to experience himself.

Leaning over and looking down at his crotch, growing increasingly frustrated that his stallionhood wasn’t even remotely turgid, he bumped against a laundry basket filled with discarded towels. Though the noise he’d made had been subtle, a deafening silence crept to his ears. He swallowed hard, praying to Celestia that he hadn’t been heard, yet he noticed that both the zebras and the mares outside were gazing over to the closet in which he was hidden.

“It seems we may have an audience,” one of the studs casually remarked. “Do either of you beauties have any coworkers who’ve been too shy to ask for our attention?”

“I don’t think so,” Lotus murmured. “Hey - whoever’s in there, come out this instant.”

Birch gnawed his lip and hesitated, if only for a moment, before he lifted his hand to the doorknob. Of all the things that could have possibly happened, being found out had to be the worst. Not only had he put his job in jeopardy, but he was about to be exposed as some sort of degenerate. Having no other option, he opened the door and awkwardly revealed himself.

“Birch?!” Aloe squawked, covering her chest with one arm. “What are you - O…oh my gosh!”

Following her gaze, seeing that she wasn’t looking at his face, he lowered his head and stared down at his groin. In his haste to escape, he’d completely forgotten to stuff his stallionhood back in his pants. Uttering a string of apologies, positively mortified, he froze when the zebras broke into loud, raucous laughter.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Phezulu guffawed with his dick entombed in Lotus, “but I’m a bit shocked you didn’t just ask us to watch.”

Giving a small nod, Phansi smirked. “You just wanted to see two real stallions going to work ~ didn’t you?”

“I…I…” Birch sputtered.

“Fucking pervert,” Aloe hissed, sneering over at him. “And to think I actually liked you.”

“Not in an amorous sense, to be sure?” Phansi asked, quirking a brow.

Shaking her head, Aloe glanced up at her stud. “Sweet Celestia, no - I mean, I thought he was a nice guy, but how could I ever even think about dating that.”

Looking down at himself, overwhelmed with shame, Birch sighed. “Can I just go?”

“Of course you can’t,” Phezulu tutted, giving a small thrust and causing Lotus to coo in delight. “You went to all the effort to sneak in here for a show, so a show you’ll get.”

“But,” the stud’s twin continued, “you have to do something for us first.” Glancing to his brother, he nodded. “Stand up and strip.”

“Y…you want me to do what?” Birch croaked. Askance, he reared back and looked between the stallions and the unicorns they’d been screwing. “You c…can’t be serious.”

“Oh I’m deathly serious,” Phezulu breathed. “You’ve gazed upon our naked bodies, so it’s only right that we get to do the same for you.”

“Ew,” Lotus nearly wretched. “I don’t want to see him naked.”

“Me neither,” Aloe added under her breath.

“Mares, please, it’s to prove a point,” Phansi placidly stated. Stepping back and unsheathing his length, leaving Aloe’s snatch to wink at the cool air, he turned and faced the kneeling pony. “Up…”

Birch grimaced, but he pushed himself up and begrudgingly got to his feet. The way he saw it, he had no choice in the matter. If he wanted to have even the slightest chance of Aloe, Lotus, and the zebras keeping their mouths shut about him, he needed to do as they said. As slowly unbuttoned his shirt, he went to turn away and spare his battered pride - that was before one of the stallions snapped his fingers.

“None of that,” Phezulu clucked. “Face us while you undress.”

Keeping his eyes on the floor, keenly aware of a blush creeping into his cheeks, he did as he was asked. The quartet silently watched him open and remove his shirt, though they snickered as soon as he began pulling his pants down his legs. He kicked away his underwear and slacks, nude save for his shoes, and staved off the temptation to hide his shame.

“Happy now?” he huffed, refusing to look at any of them.

“Not quite,” Phansi began, stepping over to him. “Do you know why my brother and I are with these lovely mares and you’re not?”

Shrugging, Birch only reluctantly lifted his head to peer up at the towering stud. “Because you’re younger and better looking.”

“True, but this is the real reason,” Phansi noted, patting the base of his stallionhood. “Look at this, now look at that little thing you have hanging limp and soft between your legs.”

“Holy hell - Birch, are you even hard?” Aloe gasped, gawking at the pony’s package.

“N…no…” Birch mumbled.

Even if he had been fully erect, the difference between his endowment and either of the zebras’ cocks was night and day. His stallionhood was only a few inches long, barely enough for him to wrap the fingers of one hand around, while Phansi’s length was well beyond a foot - more than what someone could cover with the use of two hands. Fidgeting uncomfortably, he started when the stud beside him reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.

Paying no attention whatsoever to his loins, Phansi smiled broadly down at him. “I almost feel bad for you - almost, but such is the way of things.”

“You know, it’s actually kinda cute,” Lotus tittered, drawing the zebras’ and her sister’s attention over to her. “What? It’s like a dainty little colthood! Hey, Birch, spread your legs and squat down for me.”

Doing as he was told, with his face having gone a brilliant crimson, Birch peaked a brow over at her. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” she mirthfully replied. “Now put your hands on your head and shake your hips. I wanna see that adorable thing flopping around.”

“That’s about the only use it has,” Aloe scoffed, extending a leg to rub her lover’s backside. “You heard her, put on a little show for us.”

Birch clamped his eyes shut, laced his fingers behind his head, and bucked his hips. He didn’t have to look to tell he was slinging pre-cum over the linoleum floor, feeling his prick bob and dance about wildly. He’d never been more embarrassed in his whole life, yet his humiliation was a source of endless joy for the set of twins.

“That’s just sad - cute, but sad,” Aloe giggled.

“I’m not going to lie, in a pathetic kind of way, that’s actually kind of hot,” Lotus whispered, sending an excited shiver up his spine.

Laughing to himself, Phansi turned, sank his length back into Aloe, and started fucking the mare. Phezulu followed his brother’s lead, rutting his respective mare, yet he looked over his shoulder and waved the unicorn stallion over. Confused and spectacularly turned on, in spite of his discomfort, Birch trotted over between the pair of colossi.

“Tell me, have you ever enjoyed any of your coworkers’ affection?” Phezulu inquired, glancing over at the bashful pony. “There are a good number of attractive mares at this establishment, and you’ve surely had plenty of chances to have some fun with them.”

“I…no,” Birch sheepishly answered, forcing himself not to look to either side of himself.

He’d never spoken a word of it to anyone, but he’d lusted after Aloe and Lotus since he’d taken his job at the spa. As much as he’d wanted to approach them, to ask either of them out on an honest to goodness date, the most he’d ever done was to cover their shifts, help with their tasks, and always be nice to them. The sound of the sisters mewling was as titillating as it was infuriating, yet he had nobody to blame but himself.

Giving a particularly hard thrust, one which made Lotus howl climax on the spot, Phezulu hummed to himself. “That begs the question - are you here because you’re jealous of us or because you’re jealous of them?”

Birch looked to the bliss-wracked expression on the mares’ faces and scrunched his snout. The fact that both the zebras were acting so casually dug at him, trivializing his desires in the extreme, although he made no move to leave. Ignoring his stallionhood, he glowered up at the giants.

“I’m straight - alright,” he sighed. “It’s just that - w…well…”

Though he slowed, Phezulu stared down at the stallion. “Well…?”

“I - Oh buck - I b…bet he’s a virgin,” Aloe remarked, twisting her nipples.

There was no possible way she could have known that, yet she’d hit the nail concisely on the head. Birch’s shoulders slumped, he stifled a pained whimper, and he inched backward. It was true; throughout his life, the closest he’d gotten to punching his v-card was getting handsy with a drunk mare at a bar once - even then, after he’d brought her home, he hadn’t taken the initiative and they’d simply gone to bed. While he’d been proud of himself for not taking advantage of her, an act she thanked him for, she’d confessed that she had no real interest in him. Moments before he could excuse himself, a strong, powerful hand clutched his shoulder.

“Is that true? Have you never slept with a mare?” Phansi pressed.

Birch somberly shook his head, unable to meet the zebra’s gaze. “No, but -”

“Then by all means, help yourself,” Phezulu interrupted, backing away from between Lotus’ legs.

Though she’d never expressed any interest in Birch, the mind-shattering climax Lotus had just weathered had reduced her to a gibbering, gushing heap. Instead of protesting, she dreamily smiled down at him, reached down her body, and spread her marehood for him. If ever he had a chance to traverse the veil and become a real stallion, this was it.

Holding the base of his shaft, he switched places with Phezulu and stroked himself off. It wasn’t that he’d ever planned on having an intimate moment in front of anyone, much less one involving his coworker and in front of an audience, although he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his grasp. With his chest beading, sweat forming on his brow, and his thoughts running rampant, he stepped forward and brought his stallionhood to Lotus’ entrance.

“Just gotta…” he mumbled to himself, trying and failing to get hard.

Fear and panic consumed him as his body refused to cooperate with his mind. Try as he might, having a receptive mare right in front of him, his stallionhood sat limply in his hand. He’d thought that having to strip down and make a spectacle of himself had been the worst thing he’d have to endure, but he’d been wrong - so terribly, catastrophically wrong.

“Limp dick can’t even get it up!” Aloe scoffed.

“I suppose it can’t be helped - after all, we can’t all be so blessed,” Phezulu muttered, gently shoving the impotent stallion aside. “Considering I’m not cold-hearted, we can still give you a show. It may not be what you supposedly want, but I’ll allow you to see how a true stud makes use of a mare.”

Lotus closed her legs, rolled onto her stomach, and pushed herself up. It only took Birch a second to understand what she was doing, watching as she got onto all fours atop the bed, and he found himself at an impasse. On one hand, he wanted to run away with his tail tucked between his legs - on the other, he’d just been invited to get an up-close and personal view of the action.

Almost begrudgingly, he lowered himself to the floor, twisted around, and rested his back against the foot of the bed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Phezulu was about to screw Aloe doggy style, seeing as how she was on her knees with her ass hovering just above him, and she seemed more than ready to pick up where she’d left off. Gazing up at the darkened flesh of her nethers, knowing he wouldn’t be able to satiate her, he played with his flaccid tool while the stud grabbed her waist.

“Comfortable down there?” Phansi chuckled.

Birch simply nodded and swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off the zebra’s absurdly huge stallionhood. It was hard to imagine how Phansi was able to fit the entirety of his cock into a mare so much smaller than himself, although that hardly stopped the giant from sinking into her depths. She moaned and bucked back against him, desperate to fill herself, as he watched inch after inch of dark, vascular cock disappear into her.

He’d watched plenty of porn over the years, yet none of it compared to being so close to two ponies actually fucking. While the view was impeccable, better than anything he’d ever see in a video, that was only one element to the equation. The scent of the zebra’s musk mingled with the feminine bouquet of Aloe’s marehood, driving him wild with lust.

As he held and stroked his soft tool, his eyes never strayed from the sight above him. Lotus’ marehood was drawn out with each of Phansi’s backstrokes, giving him a glimpse of her succulent, rosy interior, before the stallion bucked and stuffed his cock back into her. He quietly whined to himself, torn between wishing he was in the zebra’s place and accepting his inadequacies, while he was serenaded by a lecherous symphony.

The mares had either forgotten about him or were too preoccupied with the rapture their striped lovers afforded - in either case, neither made any attempt to quiet themselves. Like a choir of ecstasy, the duo filled the room with the sound of unfettered, unabashed rapture. He wouldn’t have thought that merely listening to them was enough to spur him on, yet their voices alone would have been enough to let him get off.

Rocking back to meet Phansi’s thrusts, Lotus moved in tune with her stud. “R…right there.”

Looking from her groin to her abdomen, craning his neck, Birch gasped. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, too focused on her marehood to give anything else any attention, but he could see the imprint of the zebra’s stallionhood within her abdomen. Not only was Phansi giving Lotus the time of her life, he was ensuring that anyone - any pony stallion, would never give her the slightest bit of pleasure in bed.

His raging libido warred with his crushing feeling of inadequacy, causing him to stroke his floppy length with two of his fingers. The physical stimulation he gave himself was, much like the rest of him, utterly lacking; it felt decent, and he would assuredly end up spilling his jizz, yet he wanted more. Ultimately releasing his prick, he rubbed his hand over his cock-head in an attempt to give himself some meaningful release.

With his chest heaving, watching Lotus’ thighs quake and listening to the pitch of her voice raise an octave, he inched closer and closer to his limit. She was about to cum right over him, and the bearing witness to such a thing pushed him over the edge. Whining to himself, going so far as to tweak one of his nipples, he met his rapturous end when his wish was fulfilled.

Howling out in rapture, Lotus convulsed and collapsed. A deluge of marish juices gushed out of her quivering, battered cunt, spraying over his face and baptizing him with her nectar. He came alongside her, his stallionhood coating his palm and the floor between his thighs in thin, watery spunk, yet neither his nor the young mare’s climax slowed Phansi.

Snorting and holding her hips tightly, the striped titan fucked Lotus like it was the last thing he would ever do. His heavy, cum-filled balls beat against her clit as they pulled tightly to his groin. All Birch could do was stare in open awe, knowing what was about to happen, yet what little ire he felt was replaced by excitement. The zebra was about to breed his crush, claiming her right before his very eyes, and he considered himself lucky to witness it.

Phansi roared and draped himself over her back, pinning her down while he hilted himself in her. Birch could only see the very base of the stud’s length, but he watched the zebra’s shaft throb madly. Each pulse of the giant’s stallionhood heralded another shot of seed, each being enough to knock up a mare many times over, and it wasn’t long before he saw the full effects of such a prolific load.

Lotus groaned and squirmed as her abdomen gradually bloated from the sheer influx of foal-batter. What had only been nectar seeping from her stuffed pussy grew tinged with spunk, dribbling over Birch’s face and onto his chest. He should have - would have been angry by being sullied by another stallion’s essence, had his own climax not rebounded and clouded his thoughts with pleasure. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and, at least in this particular instance, he was very much a beggar.

Lost to his bliss, with his senses dulled, he didn’t move as the zebra stepped back and unsheathed himself from his lover. What had been a few errant drops of Zebrican cum leaking from Lotus turned into a downright waterfall, coating his upper body and leaving him spackled in thick, white seed. He moved without thinking, spinning around to look at the utter devastation Phansi had done to the mare, and went slack-jawed.

He hadn’t gotten the best look at Lotus’ marehood before she’d been penetrated, almost too scared to indulge himself, but he wished he had. The yawning chasm that was her depths stretched on to her womb, was filled to the brim with an ocean of spunk. She’d been ruined for anything short of his arm, crushing any hope he had remaining of ever making her feel good - or so he thought.

“Hey,” a gravelly voice intoned, causing him to look up at the stallion, “clean her up for me.”

Licking his lips, he shuffled around on his knees to face her. Perhaps he’d been mistaken, maybe there was a way he could please her. He closed his eyes, drifted forward, and extended his tongue. He would have had every right to feel disgusted with himself, but that wasn’t the case.

The taste of her sex and the stud’s seed washed over his palate, as he lapped at her gaped marehood and clit. She quietly purred and pushed back against him, nearly entombing his entire muzzle in her cunt, while he idly continued rubbing himself. This was his place, this was the best he’d ever get, and embracing that fact was gratifying to a fault.

Some stallions were simply better than others, it was a cold truth of life, and a part of him was grateful for it. He wasn’t the biggest, strongest, or most attractive pony around, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. So long as Aloe, Lotus, and the other mares at the La-Ti-Da Spa would be willing to let him be of use and fulfill his purpose, he’d finally have something to look forward to…

Starlight Glimmer

“Are you even listening, Mugu?” Starlight Glimmer sighed, staring over at the young zebra stallion.

Barely paying her any mind, he shrugged and propped one foot on her desk. “I get it, stop pestering the other students or whatever…”

“It’s not pestering them,” she clarified, igniting her horn to move his foot back to the floor. “Mugu, you’re harassing them. I know things are different here than they were in Zebrica, but you can’t just go hitting on mares wherever and whenever you please.”

“It’s not like I’m hitting on all of them,” he snickered, leaning back and making himself comfortable. “I’m just talking to the cute ones.”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her snout, growing increasingly exasperated. “Be that as it may, it needs to stop. I’ve gotten no fewer than a dozen complaints on you in the last month.”

Snorting apathetically, he rolled his eyes. “Sounds like their problem - besides, most of them are single.”

Lifting a finger, fully prepared to give a rebuttal and explain how what he was doing was wrong, she shook her head and rubbed her temples. Most of the refugees in town were pleasant, hard-working, and were doing what they could to integrate themselves into Equestria’s society - with that said, there were a few troublemakers among them. She drew a breath, held it for a moment, and slowly exhaled as she tried to think of the best way to handle the situation.

“Ok, how about you tell me why you’re flirting with your classmates,” she pressed.

He gave a second, even more dispassionate shrug at her question. “I mean, is it that hard to figure out?”

Straightening up in her chair, she picked up her mug and helped herself to a sip of cocoa. “So you want a marefriend?”

“Nah - like, I’d be ok with having a marefriend, but I’m mostly just wanting a little action,” he indifferently proclaimed, nearly making her choke on her beverage. Turning her attention over to her as she sputtered and coughed, he smirked. “You think that’s funny?”

“If you think you’re just going to snap your fingers and get a little action,” she groused, quoting the air with her fingers, “you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Cocking his head to one side, he peaked a brow. “Why? I heard you - well, some of you pony chicks have a thing for zebra studs.”

“Regardless of a mare’s preference in stallions, it’s impolite at best to be so forward with somepony,” she noted. “I can fully understand wanting a special somepony in your life, but relationships are more than just sex.”

“Who said anything about sex,” he laughed. “I swear, you Equestrians have some sort of a hangup about getting laid. It’s just sex, scratching an itch, and there’s nothing to be ashamed about getting down and dirty with somepony - as a matter of fact, considering how you’re all bent out of shape about this, I bet you could use a good lay.”

His brazen assertion, coupled with the fact that he was paying more attention to her chest than her face, caught her completely off guard. It was one thing to have a student bother another, but to have one act so disrespectfully toward her was the final straw. Blushing and nearing the end of her rope, she shot to her feet.

“Ok, big shot, I think the time for being nice has passed,” she seethed, pointing to the door. “You’re being placed on in-house suspension for the next week. No lunch with your friends, no going to class like normal, no after school activities - instead, you’re going to sit by yourself in my office and do your studies from the moment you get here until the end of the day.”

“Suits me fine,” he hummed, remaining where he sat. “At least I’ll have some eye candy all day - besides that, maybe you’ll even warm up to me a bit.”

“I highly doubt I’ll…” Her response fell short as he spread his legs and patted his inner thigh.

She wasn’t sure what to make of his gesture at first, finding it bizarre, but then she saw it - a swell under the fabric he was gently slapping. With her mouth going dry, she realized what he was doing. Apparently insinuating she had an inactive sex life while making a pass at her hadn’t been good enough for him, so he’d started rubbing something he’d stuffed down his pants.

Folding her arms over her chest, she tore her eyes off his groin and scowled at him. “Very funny, mister. I’m sure all the mares you seduce are very happy to learn you’re smuggling a plantain in your slacks.”

“Oh you think this is a plantain?” he quipped, squeezing the bulge. “And I thought you were bright, Starlight.”

“That’s Missus Glimmer,” she snarled, her temper flaring.

“Ok, Missus Glimmer,” he conceded. “You want me to prove I’m not hiding anything?”

She strutted around her desk, leaned against the wooden surface, and motioned to his crotch. “By all means, big shot.”

Smirking up at her, he slowly brought one hand to his waistband. “Isn’t it against the rules to ask a student to show off their junk? I’m no expert, but I’d bet you could get in a lot of trouble for this - maybe even fired.”

“First and foremost, there’s no way that’s your actual stallionhood -” she tutted, leering down at him, “secondly, it’s not like I’m not like Twilight Sparkle would take the word of a delinquent over mine. Hate to be that mare in this situation, but you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to impress me.”

Ordinarily speaking, she went out of her way to be courteous and professional with students and her fellow faculty members - regrettably, her patience had run perilously thin. She wasn’t about to let somepony talk down to her, especially if that somepony was had already made a disreputable name for himself since arriving in town. Seeing him slip a hand into his pants, she smugly grinned.

“Go on,” she urged, “go ahead and pull it out. I’m dying to see what you’re…”

He gave her no time to finish, planting his feet, lifting his hips, and pulling his pants down around his knees. Unable to process what she was looking at, she went still and her smile gradually faded. There was no banana, padded-out sock, or foreign object of any kind, and it took her a moment to understand what she was looking at. Resting between his thighs was a thick, jet-black, vein-streaked log of flesh.

“Oh no,” he sarcastically began, grabbing and wagging the onyx length at her, “it looks like my guidance counselor just told me to whip my dick out. I sure hope Principal Twilight doesn’t hear about this and fire the dumb bitch who just took advantage of a poor, innocent student.”

“I…uh…” she murmured in disbelief.

Holy Tartarus - he hadn’t been bluffing her! Standing motionless, she peered down at his endowment. He wasn’t even fully erect, yet his stallionhood rivaled some of the biggest tools she’d ever seen! Quite literally at a loss for words, wondering how in the hay he was able to attend gym class without making a scene, she shivered when she finally processed what he’d just said.

As she lifted her eyes to his face, he smiled broadly. “You were lookin’ kinda hard there, Starlight.”

“I - Ahem,” she loudly cleared her throat, forcing her eyes closed and regaining a modicum of her composure. “Your shamelessness notwithstanding, I won’t allow you to continue disturbing your classmates. Consider this your final warning.”

He made no move to stand, though his hand never strayed from his shaft. “Alright, you got me. I guess I’ll go and apologize to Twilight and explain how you got me to confess.”

In spite of her wildly beating heart, the blood in her veins ran to ice. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Oh I think it will,” he remarked, languidly stroking himself off.

Unwittingly peeking at his stallionhood, watching it grow and harden in his grip, she gulped. “It w…won’t, I assure you. I’ll talk to Twilight and -”

“You’re my guidance counselor ~ right?” he cut her off.

She anxiously nodded, only then fully grasping how dire the circumstances were. Regardless of the hows and whys, the situation was less than ideal. Doing anything inappropriate with a student, even if they were legally an adult, could result in an immediate dismissal - worse still, she’d only recently redeemed herself in the eyes of the public. The scandal of even allegedly abusing her power would ignominy and ridicule for the rest of her days.

Squirming in place, he kicked off his shoes and fully removed his pants and underwear. “There we go - anyways, like I was saying, how about we do each other a favor. I’m in dire need of some relief, you’re a mare who probably hasn’t gotten a good rutting in ages, so it only makes sense that we help each other out.”

“A…are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” she muttered, finding it harder and harder not to gaze at the long, thick length of cock he was indifferently pumping.

“I’m saying we got two options: either I report this little incident to the Principal or you help me with this little problem of mine,” he coolly replied.

Little problem? There wasn’t a darn thing that was little about him! His endowment was gargantuan, matching his athletic physique and towering height perfectly. To do anything raunchy with him, a pony who was nearly half her age, was just wrong - that being said, the ache in her loins and her rock-hard nipples betrayed the libido she’d been attempting to suppress. Glancing to the closed door of her office, she magically turned the lock.

He quietly laughed as the deadbolt slid into place. “I swear, you pony bitches are too easy.”

“Not a word,” she breathed, unbuttoning her blouse. “If you say anything about what’s happening here, I’ll deny it and make sure you never step foot on the school’s grounds ever again.”

“Don’t worry, Starlight, I won’t go running my mouth about how I fucked your brains out,” he shot back, pulling his shirt up and over his head. “Just don’t be too surprised if you start begging me to get dicked-down again more often after this.”

She forced herself to stay quiet as she reached behind herself and unfastened her bra. With all the questionable stuff she’d done in the past, ensuring a student’s silence wouldn’t be the worst sin she’d committed - that and it had been a while since gotten any action in the bedroom. Between her job, helping the Elements of Harmony, and keeping an eye on Trixie, her sexual needs had been neglected for longer than she’d care to admit.

Spreading his legs, he slid his ass to the edge of his seat and reclined. “You wanna choke yourself on it?”

“Unless you have any lube, I don’t really have another option,” she grumbled.

After bending over and drawing her panties down her legs, leaving her skirt on, she kicked her undergarment to the side. The lecherous task shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, given his age and inexperience, so she saw no reason to fully undress herself. With her blouse open and bust exposed, she stepped over to him, sank to her knees, and appraised his package.

With nuts the size of her fists and a stallionhood that had to be a foot long or better, his equipment was as impressive as it was intimidating. Even with all her amorous adroitness, having bagged a fair number of studs in her day, both prior to and after her reformation, she knew her limitations were going to be tested by what he had to offer. She shuffled forward slowly, intentionally avoiding looking up at his conceited, punchable face, and fixated on his goods.

As she extended and opened one hand, he dropped his shaft onto her palm. The weight of his cock was staggering, although the revelation which came from holding made her marehood clench upon itself with anticipation. Wrapping her digits around his length, unable to fully touch her thumb and middle finger together, she lifted his tool to her face as she leaned in toward him.

Inches from his stallionhood, feeling like she was looking down the barrel of a cannon, she came to an abrupt stop. The smell - sweet, merciful Celestia, the aroma radiating from his nethers told her that he clearly hadn’t showered after P.E. that day. She steeled herself, pressed onward, and slowly opened her mouth.

“Feel free to play with yourself when you’re suckin’ me off,” he grunted.

Remaining silent, she guided him into her maw. The earthy flavors of sweat and unwashed flesh against her tongue did nothing to address her mounting arousal. Peering up at him, past his abs and chest, she knit her brow. The cocky bastard was watching her, probably relishing the sight of her with his cock in her muzzle, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

Though he was unquestionably bigger and stronger than her, she was going to teach him a lesson. If she had to wager on it, she’d probably have him blowing a load in no more than a handful of minutes - after that, she could tidy herself up, get back to work, and put the whole ignominious experience behind her. As she began steadily bobbing her head, servicing the first few inches of his length, she stroked the base of his shaft with one hand while cradling and massaged his balls with the other.

He contentedly sighed and caressed her mane, nearly bringing her efforts to a swift end. “You know, you’re pretty cute like that. You seeing anypony?”

Pulling back and clearing her snout with a wet Pop, she grimaced. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“So it’s true you’re dating Trixie?” he inquired. Grinning as she continued blowing him, he shook his head. “If that’s the case, we could always have ourselves a little threesome. Nothin’ quite beats plowing two carpet munchers into a pair of cock-sleeves.”

Growling around his stallionhood, she tried and failed to ignore the comment. She was in a relationship with Trixie, though it wasn’t as satisfying as she would have liked - sure, they could use strap-ons and all sorts of sex-toys on one another, but the cool, impersonal feeling of silicone could never hold a candle to the sensation of an actual cock. Broadening her stance and splaying her legs ever so slightly, she reached down and kneaded her slavering marehood.

While he eventually decided to stay quiet and enjoy himself, much to her relief, another problem reared its head. Her fingers drew damp, her heart raced, and thoughts of doing something more than slobbering on his prodigious dick ran rampant through her mind. She could have - should have just gotten him off with oral alone, yet the notion of getting something out of the sinful exchange grew increasingly tempting.

As time lazily passed, she glanced up and over at the clock on her wall. It wasn’t uncommon for sessions with students to take a half an hour or better, but she needed to hurry things up - as such, she came up with a hasty, if not slightly self-serving solution. It was a well known fact that a stallion’s endurance took a hit if they took a more active role, doing most or all of the work, and she felt certain that Mugu wouldn’t oppose taking the reins.

She waited until his first drops of pre-cum coated her palate before pulling away. “You getting close?”

“Not even,” he guffawed. “At the pace you’re going, it’ll probably be another hour or so before I blow my load. I wouldn’t last as long if I fucked your face, but I respect you too much to do that.”

Seeing no point in calling him out for the obvious lie, she got to her feet and levitated her effects from her table. Yeah, he was full of shit - no stallion could last for more than five or ten minutes while plowing somepony. She forced herself not to smile as she sat herself on the wooden surface, laid back, and smiled at him.

Lifting and spreading her legs, she peered down between her breasts at him. “Are we going to do this or are you going to keep running your mouth?”

With glacial speed, he rose, turned to face her, and snatched one of her ankles in each hand. “I was gonna be nice and give you a pillow or something to bite on, but I’m getting sick of that attitude of yours.”

“Likewise,” she hissed.

Flinching as he kissed his cock-head to her entrance, she anxiously licked her lips. He was big, there was no doubt about that, but she could take it - she knew she could. As she slowed her breathing and let the tension bleed from her body, preparing herself for the inevitable, he took full advantage of her vulnerable state. Simultaneously pulling her towards himself while driving his hips forward, he sheathed the entirety of his stallionhood.

The intrusion was so fast and so brutal that she didn’t know what had happened at first. Blinking rapidly and going slack-jawed, she noticed a bulge in her abdomen just above her belly button. Though she knew herself inside and out, having an intimate knowledge of her limitations, she struggled to comprehend how he’d hilted her.

“Feel that?” he whispered, reaching down and rubbing the swell in her belly. “I’m in your womb. I’m about to pump a foal or two into ya…”

“W…wait,” she sputtered as understanding dawned on her, “that’s not - Guh!”

Her hands sailed to her face in a desperate attempt to muzzle herself. No matter what happened, despite the fact that she was filled with more dick than should have been possible, she had to stay quiet. Being in her locked office with a student was suspicious enough, but having anypony hear what they were doing would surely raise a few eyebrows and get her all the wrong types of attention.

As he rolled his hips back, her fears were confirmed. Her entrance was stretched open, almost painfully so, and she could feel her cervix fighting his backstroke. The logical part of her told her that she should be in pain, that being filled beyond capacity would hurt, yet the shock and thrill of being despoiled in such a savage way eclipsed any discomfort.

Resting her ankles on his shoulders, he clutched her thighs and set to rutting her. An older stallion would have taken their time, savoring the embrace of a snug marehood, but he wasn’t an older stallion. Be it from his enthusiasm, sadism, or some combination of the two, he fucked her without the slightest bit of restraint or remorse.

“Mnnph Nnnph Nnnph,” she rhythmically grunted, sliding forward and back atop her desk.

Biting down on one finger barely managed to muffle her groans, though it was better than nothing. Unable to control herself, she writhed and squirmed while he sated himself with her. To say it felt incredible was an understatement, so profound was the experience. She’d thought he was all talk, but he was more than happy to prove her wrong - as if to add insult to injury, while the initial trauma of being impaled faded, she was beset with rapture.

Though she hadn’t kept track of exactly how long ago it was, it had been at least two or three years since she’d been bedded by a stallion - even then, there was no comparison between that one-night stand and what Mugu had to offer. In truth, it felt like she was having sex for the first time. Doing everything she could to keep her head above water, not to let her impulses and treacherous desires seize control of her, she muzzled herself and went to rub her clit.

“Is something wrong or is it just that good?” he chuckled, bending forward while continuing to plow her.

She wanted to tell him off, to shut him up and give him a piece of her mind, yet all she could manage was to whimper incoherently. Over the span of just a few seconds, he’d driven her to the very cusp of a climax - something nopony, stallion or otherwise, had done with such speed. Keeping her eyes shut and furiously getting herself off, praying he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he claimed, she gasped when his fingers closed around her wrist.

“Nah, slut,” he rumbled above her, “I want everyone to hear you scream.”

The dread of being caught mingled with her inconceivable rapture, sundering what little dignity she’d managed to cling to. With her knees to either side of his neck, he forced her arms, both of them, above her head. Like a freight train going at top speed, there wasn’t a thing in the world she could do to stop herself from cumming.

Her orgasm hit her with all the fury of a concentrated rainboom. Sparks shot wildly from her horn, she thrashed impotently, a torrent of nectar spurted from her quivering depths around his colossal stallionhood, and her shrill wail of ecstasy rang in her ears - still, he hammered away at her spasming cunt. He’d made her cum, but he wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied.

Only just having weathered her initial climax, she fought to catch her breath. How - how in Tartarus had he brought her to her knees so quickly?! She may have been slightly out of practice with stallions, but that didn’t justify how he’d subdued her so easily! Willing herself to clench her marehood and milk his length, she sought to show him her mettle.

Her spontaneous plan backfired spectacularly and only served to compound the incredible tides of pleasure consuming her. He crushed what little resistance she yielded with but a thought, altering the angle of his plunges to grind his medial ring against her g-spot. Striking her completely out of the blue, seemingly from nowhere and with no buildup whatsoever, her second orgasm was even more potent than the first.

Howling and bathing his pounding hips in her marish juices, she lost herself to the absolute maelstrom of her bliss. The school, her coworkers, the students, her job - in that moment, nothing mattered but the nirvana Mugu delivered. She was in heaven, in an all but literal sense, and it took everything she had not to black out from the grandeur of it all.

Were it not for the sensation of his flaring, throbbing stallionhood, she would have stayed in her dreamy, semi-conscious state. It was anypony’s guess as to how long he’d been railing her, and she’d lost track of how many times she’d cum, but his time was at an end. He didn’t cry out, nor did he roar as he slipped past the brink - no, he merely opened his jaw and bit down on her collar when he finished.

The bite was one of conquest, marking her as his mate while his seed flooded into her. Unbeknownst to her, too overwhelmed by raw passion to give it the slightest thought, her foal-factory went into overdrive. While she may have been past her prime, her body eagerly accepted his virile gift and prepared itself to fulfill its purpose.

When she eventually came to, her wits having returned to some extent, he lay atop her and fitfully bucked his hips. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel her abdomen rounded from the awe-inspiringly vast quantity of his load. Smiling wearily, she glanced to the door when she heard a knock.

“I’m k…kinda busy,” she wheezed.

“Glimmer?” a familiar voice called. “Hey, are you ok? I heard a bunch of shouting and wasn’t sure if you spilled hot chocolate on yourself again.”

She immediately knew that it was Trixie who’d come to check on her, yet she was given no time to reply. Mugu placed a finger to her lips, silencing her as he brought his muzzle to her ear. She fully understood how precarious their situation was, having only a piece of wood separating her disheveled, disgraceful state from the rest of the world, although he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest - if anything, he seemed pleased.

“Tell her to meet you at your place,” he instructed. “If you bring us there, I’ll show you both a good time…”

“H…hey, Trixie,” she shouted without hesitation, “I had a b…bit of an accident. Can you meet me at my apartment?”

There was a brief pause before the magician answered. “Right now?”

Looking up to the stud and watching him nod, she smirked. “Yeah, now would work.”

Though it was difficult, she summoned her power and magically whisked herself and the stallion out of her office and to her home. She’d have to clean up and explain to the staff why she left so abruptly, she had enough foal-batter in her to impregnate a mare several times over, and she must have looked downright pathetic, yet the craving for more was insatiable. If giving herself and her marefriend meant she could experience such joys again, it would be a small price to pay…

Trixie

Trixie lingered outside the classroom and held tightly to her cloak. The soft discussions of her students, plus the fact that she was already ten minutes late, told her that everyone who was going to be attending was already inside, but she was reluctant to enter. Taking a deep breath, she released a shuddering sigh and did what she could to steel herself as she stepped inside.

“S…settle down, everyone,” she falteringly announced while trotting to the lectern.

She wasn’t normally this nervous to speak to anyone, much less the class she’d been teaching for the better part of a semester, yet she had good reason to be apprehensive. Feeling the cool air drift up beneath the fabric covering her, she shivered. Though she was supposed to be continuing her lecture from last week about sleight of hand and stage magic, there’d been an abrupt and unforeseen change of plans.

Stopping behind the podium, she cleared her throat and gazed out and the two dozen students assembled. Each and every one of her pupils were seniors, on the cusp of adulthood and only a few months from graduating from the School of Friendship, which was one reason why her impromptu lesson was so important. Since everyone, be they pony or not, would be finding their niche soon, they had to be ready for an essential life skill.

“So we’re going to do something a little different today,” she began, keeping her cloak firmly closed. “Today we’re going to have a - um - practical p…presentation.”

Diamond Tiara, a young unicorn mare, rolled her eyes in her seat. “What’s so different about that? You do tricks and stuff all the time…”

Rubbing her dampened thighs together, Trixie felt blood rush to her cheeks. “W…well I’m going to have an assistant today.”

Glancing to the door and two figures lurking just outside, she swallowed hard. There was still time for her to turn back, to leave and not make a spectacle of herself, but that would come with a price. When life closes one door, it would open another - even with that in mind, following through with her task was no simple matter. She’d rehearsed what she was going to do for days on end, encouraged and reassured by her marefriend that it would be worth it, although actually following through with it wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’m sure y…you…” Her voice cracked and her heart began to race as the tall, muscular stud strolled into the classroom. “I’m s…sure you all know Mugu…”

“Sup,” the Zebrican stallion called, waving to his classmates after closing the door behind himself.

The students collectively groaned at his appearance. He was a troublemaker from the day he’d started attending the school, either picking on or flirting with his fellow pupils on a daily basis, so she could understand his less than welcoming reception. She quickly looked him over, paying no regard to his casual attire, before turning her attention back to her class.

With only one thing left to do, she threw her arms wide and opened her cloak. Her heart pounded in her chest, her lungs burned, and panic gripped her as the students she’d worked long and hard to earn respect from gasped and went wide eyed. Instead of slacks or a skirt and a blouse, not a single article of clothing rested beneath the flowing fabric hanging over her shoulders.

“T…today…” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. Momentarily clamping her eyes closed, assailed by the hushed murmurs of her students, she clamped her jaw and remembered her training. “Today y…you’re going to learn about Zebrican s…studs!”

Her voice rang clear and silenced the room. Though it had been many, many years ago, there’d been a time when she’d been uneasy performing her tricks for an audience. Drawing from her experience on stage, she closed her eyes and collected herself. If she wanted what she’d been promised, she had to do this.

Lifting her head, she gazed out at her class and folded her arms under her bare breasts. “As you can see, I’m dressed for the occasion,” she warily laughed. The students gawked at her, and justly so, yet the attention bolstered her resolve. “I’m sure some of you are wondering about these,” she continued, waving a hand at the black stripes painted over her. “These are an acknowledgement of respect for just how superior zebra studs are.”

The remark seemed to cut through the students’ shock, making several grimace or sneer. She could understand their derision and doubt - heck, she hadn’t believed Zebrican stallions were any different from regular ponies, but that had changed after she’d been bedded by one. Glancing over at Mugu, she eyed the bulge in his shorts and trembled with anticipation.

“I can see we have some skeptics in the audience,” she noted, crossing to him and slowly squatting down. Positioning herself before him, she brought her hands to the waistband of his shorts. “Allow me to prove what I’m talking about.”

If her class thought they’d just gotten an eyeful from seeing her naked, they were about to be in for one heck of a surprise. She moved slowly and methodically as she unbuttoned his shorts and pulled down his fly. Regardless of what type of theatrics she was doing, there was an art to working a crowd. Hooking her fingers over his trunks and boxers, she gradually pulled his attire downward and steadily revealed his semi-rigid stallionhood.

The irony of the situation, though scandalous to a fault, didn’t escape her. She’d been awestruck by just how incredibly endowed he was when she’d first seen what he was packing, and her students were no less amazed. As she released his garments and let them fall around his ankles, shifting one hand to his shaft, her marehood clenched in anticipation.

Shifting and looking out to her pupils, she beamed. “See what I mean?”

The silence was deafening, although the classroom’s reaction spoke volumes. Many of her students sat slack-jawed, others covered their mouths, yet she and her assistant were the focal point of attention. Shuffling back slightly and giving herself some room, she turned her body so that everybody could see her sopping wet loins and rock-hard nipples.

“As I was saying, Zebricans are incredible studs,” she proclaimed, stroking Mugu off with one hand while caressing her snatch with the other. “Not only are they bigger and more well-equipped than any Equestrian could ever dream to be, but they’re extremely productive.”

To hammer her point home, she walked her fingers down from his shaft and to his succulent, heavy balls. A single load from him was enough to knock up a mare many times over, the potency and volume of his seed being staggering, although she’d only seen how incredible he was. After watching him fuck Starlight into a coma on several occasions, only being allowed to spectate and masturbate, she’d do anything to anything to take her place as his lover - which was why she was essentially nude and well on her way to earning her pink slip at the school.

She kept her eyes on her pupils as she leaned over to Mugu, opened her mouth, and ran her tongue up his length. There was no way she wasn’t going to be fired after this, but losing her job wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Having gotten by for most of her life with parlor tricks, she’d be able to make a living easily enough - as a matter of fact, after word got out about how she’d been fired, she could probably start raking in bits by catering to a more adult audience.

Breathing in his musk and nearly succumbing to her lecherous urges, she recoiled and shook her head. She’d get what she wanted soon enough - until then, she had to concentrate and follow through with Starlight’s scheme. Abandoning her halfhearted to massage her aching nethers, she clutched his shaft in both hands and lifted his stallionhood to her face.

“First of all, a zebra stallion must be respected,” she stated, peering up and into his eyes. “Sir, may I suck your big, fat cock?”

Mugu nodded and motioned down at his crotch. “Knock yourself out…”

She could have waxed poetic about him for ages, going on and on about his size and how perfect he’d be to breed a mare or fuck the cum out of any sissy he so chose, but talk was cheap. With every eye upon her, she kissed and licked the fat head of his cock. The flavor of his sweat and unwashed flesh was enough for her to get off to - she’d know, she’d done so many, many times.

As she worshiped him for the virile bastard that he was, she thought back to their first encounter - well, their first amorous encounter. She never would have guessed that Starlight was the type of mare to cheat on her, having been with her for a few years at this point, yet she’d been flabbergasted to discover her expectations had been.

After walking in on her marefriend getting positively demolished by the stud, all she could do was stare in awe. Despite having no interest in stallions, an unfamiliar compulsion had seized her. She watched as Starlight was driven from one climax to the next, howling in a way she’d never heard before, and she eventually did the only thing she could think of - she had joined them.

She kept her eyes on his face as she sucked him off. While it was true that she enjoyed her job at the School of Friendship and that she was fond of her students, she would gladly give up her career to experience what Starlight got on an almost daily basis. Her role in their threesomes was a fluffer of sorts, warming up Mugu or Starlight before they fucked like animals or cleaning them up once they were done, but she was going to change that. After today, acting like a two-bit whore in front of a packed classroom, she’d get what she longed for.

Wincing and forcing her head forward, having quickly taken a lungful of air, she throated him. The trepidation of blowing a stallion almost half her age gradually faded and was consumed by her lust. Buck it - now that everyone in the room could see her for the needy slut she was, she had nothing to worry about. She blinked away a tear as she bobbed her head, lavishing the underside of his shaft with her tongue all the while.

It was hard not to play with herself would be an understatement. She’d only masturbated once while watching Mugu reside Starlight’s cunt - after that, she’d been forbidden from touching herself while in their company. While she could and always did run off to furiously fuck or finger-bang herself after the pair were through with each other, the relief she felt was fleeting at best and downright nonexistent at worst.

Hearing a small outburst from her soon to be former pupils, she glanced over and noticed that she wasn’t the only one enjoying herself. Several of the students, both mares and stallions alike, were subtly or not so subtly rubbing themselves to her exhibitionistic display. Seeing their arousal did nothing to deter her - on the contrary, it made the temptation to stroke her clit or twist her nipples even more difficult to deny.

The good news was that she’d executed her duties to the letter, showing off her striped body before swabbing her throat with Mugu’s stallionhood for all to see - the bad news was that her torment was unimaginable. She was supposed to mop his length until she was instructed to stop. Would she be left blowing him for minutes or the entire duration of the class period? In the end, only Mugu could say.

Her sapphire lipstick smeared on his shaft clashed with his obsidian flesh, tear-streaked mascara ran down her cheeks, and a small puddle of nectar formed and cooled on the floor beneath her winking marehood, yet she didn’t - couldn’t slow. To stop or yield to ravenous yearning for relief would ruin any chance she had at having him rut her - as such, she summoned every bit of her determination and choked herself on his stallionhood.

Realistically, she couldn’t have blown him for more than a few minutes - that being said, the short amount of time felt like a small eternity. He shifted above her, having gone without laying a finger on her throughout the entire affair, and pushed two fingers to his lips. As his loud, clear whistle cut through the air, she went motionless when the door opened.

She impulsively leaned ever so slightly to the side and peered to the exit, though she made sure to keep her lips around his dick. Trotting over to her without a care in the world, adorned in a long, nondescript duster, was none other than Starlight Glimmer, the love of her life. Her heart swelled and her depths quivered, though not for her marefriend - no, the appearance of her paramour meant that she’d finally, at long last, get what she’d been waiting the better part of a month for.

“Has she done well?” Starlight purred, trotting over and hugging Mugu’s neck.

All but forgetting about the unicorn slobbering on his cock, he lowered a hand, clutched Starlight’s ass and pulled her close. “Decent,” he grunted. “For a carpet muncher, she’s gotten better at working a cock.”

Glancing down at Trixie with an impish glint in her eye, Starlight chuckled. “That just means she’ll be extra snug for you.”

Unsure of what to say or do, Trixie continued nursing on his dick while fondling his nuts. She would have thought that seeing her lover being so comfortable and intimate with someone else, especially a stallion, would anger her, although it only heightened her arousal. As the duo expectantly gazed down at her, she steadily leaned back and withdrew herself from his endowment.

“Students,” Starlight flatly exclaimed, bringing the class to order and causing the pupils to fall silent, “I know you’ve all been through sex ed, but now you’ll get to observe how a stallion impregnates a mare.”

“W…what?!” Trixie blurted, bolting to her feet. “I’m all for getting railed out, but I didn’t -”

Looking over at her, Starlight smirked. “He’s going to knock me up whether or not he puts a bun in your oven.”

Trixie’s jaw flapped uselessly as her mind struggled to process what she’d just heard. She and Starlight had discussed starting a family with one another, either adopting a foal or having one of them volunteering themselves to be inseminated, but that had just been pillow talk - at least she’d assumed it had been pillow talk. Finding herself at an impasse, unable to speak, she started when her marefriend coolly trotted over to her.

“Just imagine the two of us serving him,” Starlight whispered in her ear. “Heavy with his foals while we make out around his incredible stallionhood. Come on, I know you want it…”

Of all the arguments Starlight could have made, the sinful promise of serving their bull was the most ruinously enticing. Inching back and locking eyes with her marefriend, she gulped. Her life had taken a number of twists and turns, almost all of which had been unexpected, so was it really that strange that she could settle down with her lover and a barely legal stallion? Though her mouth had gone dry, she nodded.

“Only…only if…” she sputtered, finding it difficult to speak.

With a wolfish smile slowly splitting her muzzle, Starlight leaned in. “Only if…?”

“Only if you don’t h…hog him so much,” she meekly murmured.

Mugu burst into laughter, stepped over, and clapped her on the shoulder. “Trust me, I’ll leave you both so cum-drunk that you don’t know what day it is.”

Exhaling, Trixie tensely snickered. “Buck it - let’s do it.”

Starlight turned to the class, wiggled her shoulders, and let the trench coat fall from her frame. Like Trixie, she was bereft of any clothing and painted with thick, black stripes. Now that everyone was in agreement that the presentation would include breeding, it was time for the real show to get started.

“Feel free to get closer, everyone,” she exclaimed, waving the students forward.

Walking to the edge of the teacher’s desk, Trixie seated herself and reclined. Excluding the addition of getting knocked up, she was following her script perfectly. With her legs lifted and splayed towards the class, everyone in attendance was given a glimpse of her meaty lower lips and a peek at her succulent pink depths. If she somehow hadn’t crossed a line of what would get her ejected from the school already, she sure as heck was about to.

Mugu stepped over and grabbed her right ankle in one hand, pulled her tush to the very edge of the desk, and flopped his stallionhood onto her groin. The heat and weight of his shaft resting against her was nearly as terrifying as the realization of just how insanely big he was. She’d seen him hilt Starlight on numerous occasions, but to see how massive his cock was while draped on her abdomen gave her a moment’s hesitation.

The tip of his length came to just above her belly button, and that wasn’t even taking into account how girthy he was. While she had fooled around with some pretty big sex-toys in her day, usually after she’d had one too many to drink, even the largest paled in comparison to his tool. He was going to ruin in more ways than one, resizing her pussy and potentially dealing a crippling blow to her sexuality, but it was too late to back down now.

A few of the bolder students stood from their seats and gathered around, each vying for a good spot to spectate the impending show, while Starlight smiled to them each in turn. “Like Trixie said, Zebrican studs are more than equipped to get the job done - so much so that pony stallions really can’t compare. I’ll arrange a lecture next week to discuss what inferior males can do in a future lesson - for now, I’d like everyone to watch closely.”

Right on cue, holding the base of his dick in one hand, Mugu backed away and brought his cock-head to Trixie’s entrance. His focus lay solely on her, staring down at her vulnerable form, as he pressed his hips forward. The pressure on her cunt steadily increased, making her squirm and grab the sides of the table to hold herself steady, while she did everything in her power to relax herself.

Some foreplay may have made things a bit easier for her, loosening her up for the monolithic intrusion, but all she had to rely on was her resolve and the muttering of the students watching her. It was hard for her to hear what everyone was saying, trying to focus on not tensing up though she was, although it seemed as though some doubted he’d be able to fit in her nearly virginal confines. Taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then blowing through her pursed lips, she bore down and kept her fingers crossed that things would work out in her favor.

Keeping her eyes shut, feeling as though she had a fist jammed against her marehood, her wish was ultimately granted. In an all but literal flash, her entrance yielded and nearly half of his length to be buried within her. The sensation was unlike anything she’d felt before, easily the most intense thing she’d ever experienced, and it brought with it devastated her on an existential level.

She’d climaxed in all sorts of ways in the past, from using toys and rubbing herself to being eaten out or toyed with until her endurance crumbled - unfortunately for her, nothing could have prepared her for the ruinous pleasure that drowned out her very being. Her white-knuckle grip on the desk and his iron grasp on her legs were the only things that kept her from spasming off the wooden surface. An unfamiliar, shrill sound anchored her to reality - a sound that she ultimately realized was her own howling of rapture.

Any control she had over her body went straight out the window. She threw her head back, her marehood violently contracted around him, and a flood of climactic juices dribbled from her stuffed entrance as he began sawing his length in and out of her. Heedless or uncaring of her plight, he sought only to satisfy himself and his audience.

She couldn’t think - Tartarus, she could barely breathe, yet she was given no respite from the unfathomable, overwhelming rapture of being dominated so thoroughly. All but one of the spectators stared on in awe, too appalled, dismayed, or enthralled to do anything otherwise, but one of them decided to act. Bending forward and over the table, Starlight ran a hand over Trixie’s belly.

“See the bulge?” Starlight asked, caressing the imprint of Mugu’s stallionhood. “Her womb should be right here…”

As she finished speaking, Starlight took a more active role with her. Trixie screamed to the heavens as her marefriend began rubbing her clit and playing with her nipples. It was at that moment that she came to a startling realization. Sex as she’d come to think of it, experiencing the sensual caress of another mare, was nothing more than a pitiful shadow of what it was truly like to be bedded.

Wracked with one climax after another, she gushed nectar and screamed like a beast possessed. She could practically feel herself slipping away, the lesbian she’d thought she was crumbling to reveal a new, incredible form of herself. No matter what happened between her and Starlight, irrespective of if Mugu would take them in as his personal broodmares, she understood that she would never be satisfied with just the touch of another mare.

Mugu’s technique and stallionhood proved to be an apocalyptic mix. Even if she tried to hold herself back, she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from climaxing over and over and over again. Her eyes rolled wildly, her toes curled, and saliva crept past her lips and down the side of her muzzle while she was reborn.

Drawing in a familiar scent, she peeked down and saw Starlight’s marehood a few inches from her snout. At some point or another, though she knew not when, her marefriend had crawled onto her to lap at her clit and the monstrous cock rearranging her insides. Though she loved every second of the extra stimulation, it would have been impossible for her to reciprocate her lover’s affection.

Feeling as though she was about to slip from her mortal coil, having lost track of how many times she’d cum, she became aware of Mugu’s hastening pace. The striped stud had lost all rhythm, screwing her in a frenzy, and the sensation of his cock-head swelling and beating against her cervix left little room for doubt. Comprehending that he was at his limit, she filled her lungs and gave voice to her newfound desires.

“Breed me!” she shouted.

Whether it was by coincidence or not made little difference - in any case, he gave her what she wanted. Hilting himself fully, forcing the bloated crown of his stallionhood into her defenseless, cum-starved womb, he painted her depths with virile seed. She knew in an instant that his seed would bear fruit, that he was impregnating her in front of her students and marefriend alike, it completed her baptism.

The climax which struck her was unlike any other, powerful in a way that defied reasoning, and she nearly blacked out because of it. All strength fled from her limbs, her vision tunneled and went unfocused, and she could feel her gut bloating slightly from the sheer volume of jizz being pumped into her. She’d done it, she’d fulfilled everything Starlight and Mugu had asked of her, and she had no regrets.

If it was true that there was no rest for the wicked, she must have been a villainous pony indeed. Barely able to lift her head, she watched as Mugu unsheathed his length from her battered confines, walked around the desk, and placed his hands on Starlight’s hips. She’d be the first to admit that she wasn’t the smartest pony around, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was about to happen.

As Starlight was pulled back slightly, Trixie closed her head and extended her tongue. She hadn’t asked for any assistance while nearly getting screwed into a coma, so it was only fair that she returned the favor. With her tongue gliding over Mugu’s dick while it sank into her lover’s cunt, she smiled. Her class had witnessed a perfect example of a mare getting bred, but another lesson wasn’t going to hurt anything…

Fleur de Lis

Fleur adjusted her top, pulling it slightly tighter around her heaving, heavy bust, as she inspected herself in the mirror. Fashion shows were nothing new, she’d been attending or participating in them ever since she was a filly, though this one was different. As her eyes drifted from her chest to her rounded, taut belly, a smile graced her lips.

Years prior, had someone told her that her modeling would eventually include sporting maternity wear for a live audience, she would have brushed off the notion as absurd - fortunately or unfortunately, like a great many unexpected developments in her life, that’s precisely what had ended up happening. Fancy Pants, her beloved husband, had been elated to discover she was with foal, lavishing her with promises to be an amazing father while constantly flattering her on her gradually expanding figure, though there was a catch - one she’d grappled with since finding out she was pregnant. Tearing her eyes off her stomach, she lowered her arms and continued giving herself a final once-over.

The dress she wore, while tasteful, was remarkably revealing. Sheer, lilac material flowed over her breasts, abdomen, and down to just below her knees, allowing her lacy, mauve lingerie to be seen by any and all. It wasn’t that showing off a bit of flesh bothered her in the slightest - it was what she knew was going to happen once she was on stage that gave her a moment for pause.

“Mrs. Fleur,” a voice intoned, prompting her to turn to the opening door, “you’re on in three.”

Nodding a silent thanks, she smiled at the young stagehand peeking in on her.

Turning and exiting the fitting room, she steeled herself. Her heels clicked against the polished wooden floor, the flash of cameras could be seen from around the side of the curtain, and her dress flowed behind her. It wasn’t the crowd’s impending reaction of her that heightened her anxiety, nor was it the fact that anyone and everyone in attendance would clearly be able to see the milk-stained fabric over her engorged teats - no, it was that her display would be anything but typical.

“And here we have Fleur de Lis modeling a stunning ensemble from none other than Ms. Rarity,” the announcer smoothly declared.

She strutted out without the slightest bit of hesitation, placing one hand on her swaying hips as she flipped her long, luscious mane away from her face. A hushed awe rose from the crowd, music softly played, and several ponies excitedly whispered as she made her way down the catwalk and to the riser. Her years of training and experience allowed her to keep her eyes forward, paying little heed to the throng gathered around her, until she reached her destination.

Turning in place, she brought one hand to the back of her head and struck what would be the first of several poses. Contrary to popular belief, exhibits like this were practically a science; how to walk, where to look, and her expressions were all carefully planned, yet she was far from perfect. In spite of herself, having sauntered down more catwalks than she could dare to count, the feeling of so many eyes on her gave her a special thrill - a thrill made all the worse when she heard plodding footfalls approaching from behind her.

The assembly’s focus was instantly torn, with some ponies focusing on her and others looking toward the curtain at her back, yet everyone in attendance was shocked, confused, or some combination of the two. Excluding when they passed one another, it was almost unheard of for models to share the stage - then again, she wasn’t joined by a model. She tranquilly smiled down at the spectators, looking for someone specific, as a pair of big, strong hands ran around her back and cupped her bosoms.

She was tempted - merciful Celestia, how she was tempted to turn and return the titan’s affection, yet she abstained. Thick, calloused fingers wandered over her teats, a strong, powerful chest pressed against her back, and a sonorous, approving grunt crept to her ear, chipping away at her ordinarily immovable resolve - nevertheless, she continued scanning the audience. When her eyes finally settled on an alabaster unicorn with an azure mane, her betrothed, the breath hitched in her throat.

Fancy was a fine stallion and he’d treated her like gold, practically worshiping the ground she walked on, but money, compliments, and praise could only go so far. His performance in the bedroom was, in a word, lackluster at best and disappointing at worst. She’d tried - oh how she’d tried to tell him her needs, how she yearned to be subjugated and treated like an outlet for his stallionly desires, yet he’d failed time and again to satisfy her.

Holding his gaze for a fleeting moment, seeing the bewilderment in his eyes, she spun on one heel and faced her partner. Even with her heels, the top of her head only barely made it to the towering stud’s chiseled pecs. She’d spent most of life silently pining to find a stud, a true stud who’d give her what she wanted, and she’d finally been granted her wish.

Jitu, like many of his brethren from Zebrica, was an absolute colossus. Bigger, stronger, and more masculine than virtually every stallion in Equestria, the mute giant was like a dream made flesh. His adonic build, striped hide, and sculpted physique were the sort of thing budding mares fantasized about, and she had him all to herself.

Lifting a hand and brushing thick, monochromatic dreadlocks from his face, she smirked. Though he lacked the ability to speak, he never had a need to use words. As he lowered one arm and sank his fingers into her tush, practically lifting her off the floor, he dipped his head and locked lips with her. His kiss was deep and passionate, making her loins ache with anticipation, but it was the sensation of something hot bearing against her belly that set her heart fluttering.

She’d met just over half a year ago, back when he’d been doing odds and ends work throughout Canterlot, and she’d been fascinated with him from the moment she laid eyes upon him. With the gates of Equestria open to him and his kin, he’d come seeking a brighter future for himself - sadly, it had been a struggle. It wasn’t until she took pity on him, helping him find work and a stable place to stay, that he was given a glimmer of hope.

As his hand slid up her back to the lace securing the back of her dress, his breath washed over her face. She replied in kind, reaching for the strip of leather tying his loincloth in place, and closed her eyes. This was their time, their grand display, and she’d waited for this moment for months on end. Finally - finally everyone would know the true glory of acceptance in its purest form.

Without breaking their kiss, she elegantly twisted from side to side and allowed the dress to slip from her shoulders, down her body, and to the floor around her ankles. The light overhead, the murmurs from the throng, the flash of cameras, they did nothing to deter her or the stallion steadily undressing her. As scandalous as the scene was, with everyone realizing she was a married mare, she was one of the only ponies present to know it was merely the opening act.

She pushed herself away from him the second his digits graced the clasp of her bra. There was a certain theatrical flare to her performance, injecting the slightest bit of drama, though it took no small amount of self-restraint to pull it off. Glancing to his crotch and folding her arms over her chest, she turned her nose up and gave a small, petulant snort. He followed his cue flawlessly, caressing her arm while untying his loincloth and letting it fall from around his waist.

The crowd gasped and went abuzz with quiet chatter as his endowment was revealed. Maintaining her charade, she peeked down with a single eye at his coal-black, gradually swelling length. Though he was partially erect and getting bigger by the second, the sheer weight of his stallionhood forced it to hang like a cudgel between his muscular thighs and over his ripe, succulent balls.

A smirk graced her lips, her marehood winked within its silken confines, and her nipples went hard as she shifted to him and steadily sank to her knees. She’d known and seen a number of studs who were exquisitely well-equipped over the years, yet there wasn’t a single one of them who could match Jitu in length or girth. Reverently extending one arm, she slid her palm up his shaft and to the folds of flesh at his sheath.

While she was putting on a carefully orchestrated show, the veneration she showed him was no sharade. Simply feeling his velvety flesh against her fingers, tracing the thick veins along its length and feeling the heft of his stallionhood, was enough to chip away at her composure. Shuffling to the side and into a better position, ensuring Fancy could get a perfect view, she looked in the direction of her husband while she lifted the stud’s - her stud’s cock.

Maintaining eye contact with her betrothed while she leaned in and gave the tip of Jitu’s length a small, introductory kiss was the hardest thing she’d done in ages, far more difficult than keeping her affair a secret had ever been - not because she didn’t savor Fancy’s dumbstruck expression, but because her true lover’s package practically demanded her full devotion. There’d been times when she simply worshiped him and fawned over him for no reason other than her self-indulgent desires - something she’d never done with her husband. Feeling the zebra stroke the top of her head, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and wrapped her lips around the tip of his shaft.

She waited until seeing her husband stiffen and swallow hard, growing increasingly disconcerted or possibly aroused, before swinging her free arm back. As she unclasped her bra and tossed it to the side, letting her engorged breasts spill out onto her distended belly, she bobbed her head and cradled the stud’s pendulous, cum-filled nuts. She adored every part of Jitu, from the way he treated her to the way he smelled, but she had a particular fondness for his balls - after all, without them, she wouldn’t be in the state she was in.

Obscenely splaying her legs and hooking a finger over the waistband of her panties, she tore the undergarment off to reveal her nethers. Just above her plump, rosy lower lips rested a stylized tattoo of a black heart with swirls and traceries around it. Even after she gave birth to her lovechild, her dedication to Zebricans would be evident for those lucky enough to see her undressed.

As she drove her head forward, having filled her lungs with the ambrosial aroma wafting off his package, her eyes watered and throat bulged. A time may come when she was able to fellate him easily, her gullet beaten into submission from repeated abuse, though she hoped that day would never come. Being choked from air, feeling her lips stretch around his godly shaft, and the sensation of her airway spasming around him were intense and caused her pulse to quicken.

Bobbing her head and choking herself, as naked and shameless as the day she was born, she brought her hand between her thighs and stuffed three fingers into herself. In truth, the masturbation was unnecessary, seeing as how Jitu had plowed her that very morning, but warming herself up served a dual purpose; for starters, regardless of how many times her mate rutted her, it was always a struggle accommodating his gargantuan endowment - secondly and just as prudently, the onlookers needed to see how enthused she really was.

Try as she might, she couldn’t help but give the titan her undivided attention. The flavor of sweat, unwashed flesh, and hints of her marish juices washed over her palate while she sank a fourth digit into herself. Compared to Fancy, Jitu was a god, an embodiment of virility and masculinity, and her place was to serve him for the gift he’d given her.

She sucked him off for as long as she could, until her lungs burned and tears streamed down her face, yet she pushed herself to her limit. All growth was painful, whether in a literal or figurative sense, and the only way she could properly gratify him was to push herself. Waiting until she stifled an involuntary gag, she mutely reared back, sharply inhaled, and freed him from her snout with a soft, satisfying pop.

Inching back and bending at the waist, he drew a finger under her chin and lifted her face up at him. As primally beautiful as he was, his physique seemingly hewn from marble, he had the face of an angel. His piercing blue eyes contrasted the white and black of his mane and countenance, silently urging her to take the next step of their dance. She took her hand as soon as he offered it, slickening his palm with the juices flowing from her loins, and rose before him.

Facing him, she placed her hands on his hips while resting her cheek against his palm. He was so much bigger than her, making her look almost like a filly in comparison, yet he could be startlingly delicate when he wanted to. She was a nearly chaste flower, pristine and pure to a world she’d never known, and he’d plucked her and taken her for himself.

He stepped back and appraised her, seemingly to judge if she was worthy. Though she understood she had nothing to fear, standing under his discerning gaze. All those assembled could see the disparity between them, realizing how small and vulnerable she was in the face of such a colossus, but that wasn’t enough. The life within her was theirs, her body practically belonged to him, and she would gladly forsake everything and everyone she’d ever known to be with him - which had led her to this juncture.

Kneeling, he picked up a small crock resting beside himself and beckoned her forward. She obeyed without question, stepping to him while extending her arms to either side. As he swirled a brush through the urn of black paint, she spared one last glance over to Fancy. It felt like it had been eternity since she’d said her vows to him, pledging herself to him before the Princesses and their respective families, but that had been prior to her discovering her true purpose in life.

Cool ink flowed over her coat and seeped down to her skin, making her shiver as his brush anointed stripes over her ivory fur. Part ritual, part art, and all soulful, the markings were a blessing of her allegiance to the stallion who’d truly won her heart. She reveled in it, basking in the undoubtedly astounded audience, while her transformation was slowly and methodically completed.

She only dipped her head once he’d finished, peering down at herself with a broad, proud smile splitting her features. Black starbursts lay around her leaking bosoms, a broad swirl was emblazoned on her stomach, and bands of ink covered her from the tips of her toes to her cheek. There’d been many points in her life when she felt gorgeous, though being painted in such a way spoke to a primitive side of her that Jitu had brought into the light.

While she’d asked him to mark her, if only in preparation for this evening, he’d refused. The ceremony of being claimed was sacred, something his kind didn’t take lightly, and it was only meant to be done once. Her patience had been tested, her indecision had waxed and waned, and a part of her had been disheartened for the lack of preparation, but it had been worth it - heavens above, had it been worth it.

Beaming down at her, he opened his arms. It would be impossible to say what the crowd expected, possibly presuming they would simply embrace and end their performance, although the overwhelming majority watched with rapt awe. Closing with him, pressing her breasts against his midsection, she lifted a leg and brought her knee to his hip.

He reached down, secured her backside with both hands, and lifted her from the floor. Brought up as though she weighed nothing at all, she wrapped her legs around him and looked deeply into his eyes. There was only one way for everyone, including Fancy, to fully comprehend what she and Jitu had, what they’d made, and she was going to show it to them.

She bit her lip when he flexed his crotch and kissed the tip of his length to her entrance. When she’d first succumbed to her bestial urges, abandoning the sanctity of her marriage, she’d worried that they couldn’t consummate their budding fondness for one another - mercifully for her, he’d shared no such concern. Cradling her in one arm, he held his shaft steady and slowly but forcefully impaled her.

The sensation of fullness he imparted was mind-melting, making her moan against his shoulder in defiance of her desire to remain silent, and that was only from the head of his stallionhood. As broad as her fist and just as intimidating, his endowment slowly stretched her marehood to the breaking point as inch after incredible inch of his shaft sank into her. Trembling in his iron grasp, she was stricken with waves of unimaginable pleasure.

Sex with Jitu was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. The amazing size of his stallionhood was only rivaled by the strength and skill with which he wielded it, robbing her of anything but raw, unfettered bliss. Sensing herself skyrocketing to a climax, even though they’d just begun, she threw her head back and looked behind herself.

Fancy stood motionless, his mouth agape and eyes wide. She felt some sliver of pity for her former paramour, understanding that breaking his heart under any circumstances was wrong on a fundamental level, although she couldn’t help herself. A refined, demure pony though she was, she was still little more than an animal at heart. Watching her husband closely, inspired by his reaction, she howled and yielded to her rapture.

Climactic nectar erupted around his jet-black cock, fleetingly glimmering like sparkling like diamonds under the light overhead. Her marehood spasmed and fiercely gripped him, desperately clinging to him while she brayed to the heavens. The simple act of being penetrated, of her depths embracing him, was enough to evoke a climax, but they were far from finished. Lower and lower she sank down his girthy rod until his thick medial ring ground past her entrance.

He slowed, waiting until she’d composed herself enough to look at him. No sooner did their eyes meet than he reversed course, lifting her up again. No matter how hard she clenched, feeling her marehood being drawn out by his indomitable shaft, she couldn’t stop him - not that she wanted to. She wasn’t fighting his retreat - instead, she was milking him and doing what little she could to show her appreciation for him.

Leaning her back, he dipped his head and brought his face to her breast. She’d only started lactating a week ago, yet he’d developed quite a taste for her milk. Latching onto her teat and drawing in a mouthful of her thick, sweet cream, he steadied her and began rutting her in earnest.

Her fingers weaved through his dreadlocks, holding him to her bosom while his shaft pistoned into her. The pleasure of being used in such a way was astounding, a far departure from anything that any pony had or likely would deliver, and it wore away at her self-restraint. What began as soft whimpers of delight blossomed into guttural groans and incoherent mewling. Though she fixated on her lover, all but forgetting about the spectators gathered around her, she fought through the blissful haze and turned her head.

Remaining right where she’d found him, either taken aback or too mesmerized to move, Fancy watched the scene unfold. A curious combination of what seemed to be lust and envy played over him, elevating her arousal into the stratosphere, yet it wasn’t until she lowered her gaze that understanding dawned on her. With a number of the onlookers having departed, she was given a clear view of his groin and the small but obvious tent in his slacks.

The sight of his pitiable excitement was enough to send her spiraling over the edge in an instant. Her shrill scream of ecstasy filled the air while another spray of her marish juices pattered to the stage and over Jitu’s powerful thighs. Fancy had done nothing to keep her, neither challenging his rival nor abandoning her in disgust - instead, like some pathetic sycophant, he stayed to see how a real stallion claimed her.

Without fully realizing it, lost to a tumultuous sea of rapture, she started to move along with her mate. She flexed her legs and swung her hips up on his backstrokes while throwing her weight down when he plunged into her. He’d earned her for no other reason than existing, by being superior, and she was thankful to have ever met him.

Jitu shifted and nursed on her other bosom, having drained one dry, as he steadily hastened his pace. His weighty balls smacked against her ass as he thrust into her, adding a soft drumbeat to the symphony of her bliss. Peering down at him, watching him swallow down mouthful after mouthful of her milk, she was reminded once again of what they’d done - what they’d made.

She’d heard that the pairing of a zebra and a pony would result in a zebra foal, and she prayed that would be the case. The tattoo she had was carefully placed, easily concealed, yet nothing would hide her allegiance when she was carrying a happy, healthy Zebrican colt or filly in her arms. While some ponies would look at her with disdain, judging her for abandoning her kind, she knew that it was jealousy that motivated their intolerance.

As she held him tightly, relishing the feeling of his stallionhood battering her womb, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She’d endured two climaxes over a matter of minutes, while sleeping with her husband may, if she was lucky, result in a single orgasm over the course of an hour - even then, it was typically after he’d cum and when he ate her out. Sensing herself getting close, rebounding and driven to the brink yet again, she willed herself to look over at her betrothed.

Though Fancy hadn’t budged, his demeanor had shifted considerably. With one hand thrust down his pants, wantonly playing with his colthood, he gnawed his lip while his eyes were glued on her rear. It was in that moment, fully comprehending how inadequate he was, that she fully surrendered herself to Jitu. Lifting his head from her chest, she shot forward and drove her tongue into her stud’s mouth.

Her kiss took him off guard, causing him to falter, but he quickly reciprocated her passion. Whether he could sense her acceptance of him, had been getting close to his limit, had some exhibitionistic tendencies, or some combination of the three, he crossed the point of no return. With the crown of his stallionhood flaring, expanding to more than double its original size, his length pulsed in tune with his thundering heart.

She could feel it, his need to breed her, and it gave her the strength to endure until the very final moment. Feeling as though she was going mad, envisioning the battering ram-like tip of his cock seated against her cervix, she came as soon as the first shot of his virile essence surged into her. The sheer volume of seed he could produce was unbelievable, enough to coat her entire face with ease, and feeling it bathe her interior was the experience of a lifetime.

Viscous, rich jizz mingled with her nectar, squirting and leaking out of her battered sex. The cocktail pooling on the floor around their feet was the closing act, a representation of what they’d become and what she was leaving behind. She’d always thought she’d found happiness, getting married and taking a career that had made her proud for years, but she’d been misled. Her real role was to please her mate, the stallion who’d sown life within her, and she had no doubt that her little colt or filly would be the first of many, many zebra foals she would bring into the world…

Rarity

Tightly clutching her purse and continually glancing over her shoulder, Rarity made her way down the dimly lit sidewalk of Manehattan. She’d only arrived a day prior, having come to spend a week with Sweetie Belle, although that wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to travel to the bustling metropolis. Aside from having a number of high-end salons and boutiques available, the sprawling city had become known for a particular type of immigrants.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” a low, gruff voice called out, causing her to flinch.

She glanced to her left, though she didn’t break her stride. Lingering in front of what she presumed was an apartment complex was a hulking figure - no, several hulking figures, and each of them had their eyes set squarely on her. Their imposing builds and impressive physiques, along with the mohawks or dreadlocks they bore, instantly told her that she’d stumbled upon a group of young, possibly delinquent Zebricans - then again, considering she wasn’t in the best part of town, that came as no surprise.

“H…hello,” he stammered, waving a hand and continuing on her way.

Keeping her eyes forward, she swallowed hard when she heard them start walking after her. She told herself that she didn’t have anything to worry about, that it was likely a conscience that they were trotting along behind her, though it quickly became evident that wasn’t the case. Staring as one of the brutes shot past her and cut her off, she came to a reluctant halt.

“So what’s a pretty mare like you doing all by your lonesome?” the stud hummed, staring down at her.

The white of his teeth clashed with the midnight-black of his full, pouting lips, his eyes were like twin sapphires, and his incredible size were a sight to behold, both beautiful and intimidating, and he’d made it very, very clear that he was expecting an answer. Looking to her left and right, she found his friends encircling her. As she turned her attention up to his face, she warily smiled.

“I…I was simply going out for the night,” she replied.

“You were walking kinda fast there,” he laughed, leaning in and bringing his face closer to her. “Got a hot date or somethin’?”

She anxiously fidgeted with the top button on her duster and averted her gaze. “I’m…I’m afraid not, darling,” she sighed. “It’s not as easy as you’d think for an older mare to find romance.”

It was true, she’d meant every word of the admission. Most of her youth had been spent honing her craft and making inroads with fashion designers and coutures - when she wasn’t busy with that, she was off saving Equestria with her fellow Elements of Harmony or helping her friends with their problems. While she didn’t regret any of the decisions she’d made throughout her life, she was a bit wistful that she hadn’t put more effort into finding a special somepony for herself.

“Older mare?” he repeated, balking. “Shit, you ain’t that old!”

“Darling,” she flatly began, looking up and into his eyes, “I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if I was your mother.”

Stepping back, the giant looked her up and down. “If you’re not bullshitting me, you’re one hell of a good looking cougar - either, with a face that pretty, it’s a shame you ain’t got a coltfriend.”

She blushed and reflexively ground her thighs together. “Come now, you’re just saying that.”

“Nah, I’m serious,” he grunted. “Ain’t that right, guys?”

The murmurs and hums of agreement from all around her made her heart flutter in her chest. Clenching her fists, flattered but taken aback by the strangers’ praise, she scrunched her snout up at the titan. She didn’t know who he was but her gut told her that he was the ringleader of his little band of striped miscreants.

“As much as I’d like to stay and chat, I have places to go,” she grumbled, stepping aside and going to skirt past him. “I hope you gentlecolts have a -”

“Woah woah woah ~” he interrupted, lifting a hand and placing it on her shoulder, “what’s the hurry, toots?”

“Toots?” she blurted, trying and failing to brush his arm away. “I am not a toots!”

“What should we call you then?” he countered, peaking a brow and folding his arms over his chest. “You were in such a rush to leave that we didn’t catch your name!”

“If you must know, I’m Rarity -” she huffed, stomping her hoof for good measure, “the Rarity.”

His apathetic demeanor didn’t falter as he continued gazing down at her. “I’m Jitu,” he replied after a moment, lowering his hand from her shoulder. “And these here are Kubwa, Mjinga, and Mbaya,” he added, nodding to each of his friends in turn.

Daintily placing her hand in his palm, she gave the slightest courtesy. “Charmed - anyways, as I was saying, I simply must be going.”

Jitu grinned, sank to one knee, and delicately kissed the back of her hand. “You’re breaking my heart, Rares. A nice looking mare like you, trotting around all on her lonesome in this part of town - here I thought you’d come looking for a nice, young stud to show you a good time…”

Awestruck by his assertion, she blinked. “I…I beg your pardon?”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “you were just saying something about how hard it is for an older mare to find love or something, but I’m not buying it. I bet you’ve got a body that’s just as gorgeous as that face of yours - in fact, how about you unbutton that stuffy coat of yours and prove yourself wrong.”

She twisted in place, listening to the trio surrounding her agree with Jitu’s small suggestion, while her mouth went dry. “I’m dreadfully sorry, but I feel I’m under-dressed for the occasion.”

Continuing to study her, he squinted. “Oh I get it. You’re one of the shy types ~ am I right?”

“I…yes, I suppose you could say that,” she lied through her teeth.

“Tell you what then -” he sighed, rising to his full height, “how’s about I go first…”

“Go…” she fell deathly silent as he lowered his hand and nonchalantly unbuttoned the front of his shorts.

Coolly pulling open his fly, he tugged at his underwear and revealed the dark, fleshy root of his tool. Stars above ~ what in the hay were they feeding these Zebrican stallions? The stud couldn’t have been older than his late teens, barely an adult by any stretch of the word, but more massive in every way than most ponies she’d met over the years! Staring in awe at his groin, she started when he released his waistband and robbed her of the sinful view.

“Ya know, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I’m in the wrong here,” he noted, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “It’s awfully rude of me to be chatting up some pony who’s just out trying to enjoy her evening. Come on, guys, let’s leave this nice mare be.”

She turned in place, watching as the quartet walked away and toward the stoop they’d abandoned. The entire interaction couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes at most, yet the way they’d approached her and spoken with her, ignoring or ignorant to the fact that she was a literal hero, gave her a moment for pause. To them, she was just a mare, one attractive enough to catch their eye, and their shamelessness and chauvinism because of that was thrilling.

“A…Ahem,” she loudly cleared her throat as she turned to face them. Waiting for them to slow and look back at her, she pulled at the lapel of her duster just enough to reveal her neck and collar. “Perhaps I could show you fine colts what’s under this thing.”

Turning on one heel, she proceeded to and down a nearby alleyway. The sound of their heavy footfalls and mutters brought a smile to her face while she strutted along. There’d been no doubt they’d follow her ~ why would they not? She was an innocent, defenseless mare all by her lonesome - or so she’d have them think.

Coming to a stop within the narrow, gloomy backstreet, she looked over her shoulder with a single azure eye and waited for them. Each was respectable in their own right, tall and well-built, and they’d made it abundantly clear that they fancied her, which almost made her feel bad for what she was going to do - almost. Opening the front of her duster, she shrugged her shoulders and let the garment fall from her frame.

“I do hope they’re to your liking,” she cooed, lifting her arms and bringing her hands to the back of her head.

The look on their faces was delicious and everything she’d hoped for. Even in the dim light, the dark stripes painted over her snow-white coat were clear as day. Showing off the black bands on her body would have been provocative in and of itself, though the markings were only the tip of the iceberg. Other than her coat, the only thing she had on was a neon-pink sling bikini.

“Whatever’s the matter?” she asked, spinning on her heel. “Cat got your tongues?”

Jitu snickered, shook his head, and burst into laughter. “Oh that’s nice...”

Running her hands under the twin bands of fabric running from her crotch up to her shoulders, she cupped one breast in each hand. “Thank you, darling, but I didn’t come out like this just to be looked at.”

With a flick of fingers, she caused the cloth to slip down either side of her tits and exposed her nipples. There was no way she’d ever be able to do something so audacious in Ponyville, what with everyone knowing her and a glaring lack of big, beefy studs to flaunt her stuff to, but she wasn’t in Ponyville ~ was she. Adding fuel to the fire, seeing the shorts or pants tent in excitement, she drew one hand down her waist and to her moistening loins.

“You’d mentioned something about showing me a good time ~” she cooed, shamelessly rubbing her marehood, “did you mean that or are you - yes, all of you, willing to put your bits where your mouths are?”

Striding toward her and leaving his companions in his wake, Jitu delicately squeezed her bosoms. “You’re a real freak ~ aren’t ya?”

“Guilty,” she tittered, returning the favor by fondling the bulge in his jeans. Leaning to one side, she looked past him and to his stricken friends. “Don’t be so coy, dearies, I’ve got three holes that are just begging to be put to use.”

“Oh no,” Jitu snarled, twisting her nipples and causing her to mewl in delight. “They can have you after I’m done with you.”

She peered up into his eyes and smirked. The whole reason she’d made her late night foray was to find someone like him, a stallion who wasn’t afraid to take what they wanted, and she couldn’t have been happier with how covetous he was. After all her friends had waxed poetic about how astounding Zebricans were, she simply had to experience one for herself. While she had no interest in miring herself in a long-term relationship, she wasn’t above getting absolutely ruined by a virile stud to scratch her amorous itch and sate her curiosity.

“Then by all means,” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss, “we should show them how it’s done…”

Opening the front of his pants, she sank into a deep squat before him. The cool air on her fur clashed with the fire raging in her nethers, making it easy to forget where she was practically naked. Fighting the urge to tear his pants off, she slipped a hand into the front of his jeans and froze.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could sure as heck feel what was an absolutely monstrous stallionhood. In an instant, her enthusiasm to service the magnificent creature grew tinged with apprehension. Twilight, Pinkie, Applejack - heck, all of her friends had gone on and on about how exquisitely well-hung Zebricans were, although the twitching, swelling log of flesh against her fingertips felt more like a third leg than a dick.

As she steeled herself and began drawing his pants down his legs, her eyes widened in shock. Her slender digits hadn’t deceived her, Jitu’s length was positively gargantuan - better still, the scent wafting out from his underwear was divine. Slowly and almost sensually revealing every impossibly thick inch of his shaft, she sensed her depths seize in anticipation.

“What was it you said?” he mockingly inquired, wrenching her attention away from his package and up to his face. “Something about putting your bits where your mouth is?”

“Q…quite…” she quietly sputtered, giving a small nod.

Mother of mercy ~ how was he not lightheaded from all the blood filling his cock? His tool hung heavily under its own weight, unable to stand proudly like every pony stallion she’d bedded prior, though it was most definitely about as hard as it was going to get. Purely out of curiosity, not having a measuring tape handy, she lifted a forearm and pressed it against the obsidian shaft dangling inches from her face.

The tip of his length was nearly as broad as her clenched fist, the root of his endowment was even thicker than that, and his balls - goodness gracious, his balls were as big as a pair of small cantaloupes! Hearing him snort and seeing him shift, reminded that he wasn’t some art piece to be admired, she tenderly clutched his tool and hefted it to her muzzle. She’d gone though all the trouble to find him and lure him somewhere private, and now it was time to get down to business.

Sex and foreplay, much like every endeavor in which she excelled, were an art and weren’t to be rushed. Opening her mouth and lolling out her tongue, she leaned back and gave his tremendous cock-head a little kiss. The thick aroma radiating from him, the taste of sweat on his unwashed skin, and boorish demeanor - each and every facet of the youthful stud was barbaric and unrefined, though that was one of the reasons she’d sought him and his uncouth associates out.

He reached down and ran his fingers through her mane as she gradually worked him to the back of his maw. With her eyes on his face, the corners of her lips turned up. He may have been far bigger and more powerful than her, but he lacked one thing - experience. For all his strength and impudence, he wasn’t prepared to deal with a mare of her caliber.

Bobbing her head and servicing a fraction of his shaft, she cradled and lovingly kneaded his balls. She’d make sure that every drop of his rich, virile seed was spent in or on her, coating the paint she’d so diligently marked herself with, but that would only come as her reward for a job well-done. As she closed her eyes and softly groaned, savoring him like a fine, exotic wine, his grip on the back of her skull tightened.

In a blink, holding her right where she was, he stepped forward and bucked his hips. Every inch of his shaft was driven down her gullet, forcing her jaw open and causing her to gag. All of her careful preparation, the plans she’d made to seduce a stud she’d never have to see again, shattered in that terrifying moment.

Rolling his hips back and freeing a portion of his lipstick-smeared length, he grunted. “You’re taking too damn long, toots. Here, let me help you with that.”

His cock plunged down her throat before he finished speaking. Her eyes watered, her lungs tried in vain to draw air, and she tensed from head to toe as he began ruthlessly fucking her face. Her machinations were gone, replaced by the realization that a beast of his caliber would not - could not be so easily tamed.

He kept one hand on her as he pulled his shirt up and over his head, though the sight of his rippling abs and sculpted chest gave her little comfort. Pawing at her neck, pushing against him, scrambling away - there was nothing she could do to unsheath herself from him. Teetering on the verge of panic, her mind came to a startling conclusion - since she couldn’t flee, there was only one reasonable thing she could do.

Releasing his balls, her hands shot to her swaying breasts and groin. Some part of her, a primitive piece she’d railed against for her entire life, came to life. She was a mare, he was a stallion - it was that simple. Her place, her role in the grand scheme of things, was to continue the legacy of the most remarkable stud she could find, and that realization crushed her fear beneath an arousal like she’d never known.

“There you - Nnnph - go,” he guffawed. “Ain’t no shame in getting off while getting your throat swabbed - hell, it’s what you came here for ~ ain’t it?”

A weak croak was all she could muster while she jammed three fingers into her needy, slavering cunt. There was no way for her to know if she’d end up blacking out, but darned if she wasn’t going to enjoy every brutal second of being used in such a depraved way. She was a refined mare and hero of renown, yet that meant nothing to him - no, she was nothing more than an outlet for his savage desires.

Time flowed like honey in winter, steadily marching onward and slowly sapping her of her strength. Her vision tunneled, her lungs burned, and her marehood spasmed - still, in spite of the dire circumstances, she inched closer and closer to release. As she teetered on the brink, standing at the razor’s edge of a climax, he abruptly stopped and withdrew his cock from her snout.

“If you want this load, you’re gonna have to work for it,” he mused, holding and waving his dick at her. “Twerk that fat ass for me.”

She would have been angry about the mention of her weight, had she not been too busy coughing and sending ropes of spittle and pre-cum sailing past her lips. Holding up one finger and mutely asking for his patience, she unsteadily got to her feet and turned away from him. Given everything she’d done already, including having choked on him for what felt like a small eternity, obliging his request was the least she could do to get what she wanted.

Bending over and leveling her ass at him, she rested her hands on her knees, lowered herself slightly, and threw her hips back. The clap of her ass, while annoying to her ears, evoked a chorus of whoops and hollers from Jitu’s companions. While she was no fan of the weight she’d put on over the years, especially the bit that had amassed in her derriere, the zebras were apparently pleased with her wobbling, doughy backside.

It may have been a bit off script, but she couldn’t help but try to get them even more worked up than they already were. Periodically rolling her hips from side to side, she reveled in their catcalls. If she was lucky and not too worn out, she wouldn’t mind giving each and everyone of them a go at her - after all, it wasn’t every day that she indulged in such immodest hedonism.

“Yeah,” Jitu breathed, coming up behind her and slapping her tush, “I can definitely work with that.”

Emboldened, she peeked over her shoulder at him. “Glad you - Wha?!?”

She yelped in surprise as he grabbed her waist and effortlessly lifted her into the air. Kicking out at nothing, her legs were seized and brought up to either side of her head. Just like that, in an all but literal flash, Jitu had pulled her back to his chest and was sawing his stallionhood in the cleft of her ass.

“Hope you’re ready for this,” he growled.

Shivering as his length was slid between her lower lips, she squirmed against him. “Oh I’m more than - No, wait!”

Her hubris was her undoing, mistakenly assuming he was going to plow her marehood. The instant the battering ram-like tip of his dick kissed her pucker, he forced his cock into her backdoor. Though she’d never been the biggest fan of anal, the taught ring of her rarely used entrance was stretched open and pushed to its very limit.

With her mouth hanging open in a silent scream, allowing ropes of drool to dangle from her chin, she was used like a flimsy, disposable sex-toy. What should have been a painful experience was overshadowed by the raw fury with which he railed her behind - sure, she’d cleaned and pre-lubed her backside for the occasion, but she’d thought there’d be some manner of foreplay involved! Powerless to stop him, she howled when he fiercely twisted her nipples.

“Make some noise for us, slut,” he jeered, hammering into her ass with reckless abandon.

She did just as he’d asked, though she had no control of it. The discomfort of being contorted in such an unseemly fashion, paired with the colossal stallionhood rearranging her insides, drowned out by the sheer intensity of his rutting - to the point where her mind threatened to fracture. Grunting and groaning with his every plunge, having the wind forced from her, she wearily looked up when a figure trotted in front of her.

She couldn’t tell which of his companions had been advantageous enough to join her, nor did she truly care, but the unnamed stallion had undressed himself from the waist down and was holding his dick in one hand. Her boast about having three holes that were begging to be stuffed came back to haunt her, as the zebra closed the gap between them and filled her marehood in a single, viscous plunge.

The intrusion of a second cock broke her and brought her to a climax before the stud had even hilted. Nectar seeped around his girthy cock, dribbling down his balls and to the concrete beneath them, while she filled the air with a rapturous scream. This - this was what she’d needed for her whole life, for someone brazen enough to strip away her ladylike veneer and breed her like the animal she was deep down inside.

Caving under the pressure of her subconscious impulses, she came over and over and over again. Every time a wave of unimaginable rapture washed over her, another, even more powerful tide of ecstasy struck. She could practically feel herself slipping away, losing herself to the maddening bliss that had claimed her fellow Elements, but she didn’t fight it - no, she embraced it.

All it had taken was one loose thread for the fabric of who she was to be unmade, reducing her to a gibbering, squirting mass of limbs and wails. She was only vaguely aware of what became of her, being passed back and forth between the studs for well over an hour, though she eventually came to her senses when a stiff breeze sent a chill through her. Shakily pushing herself up on one hand, she found herself alone in a pool of cooling jizz.

At some point or another, Jitu and his friends had abandoned her, discarding her once they’d been satisfied. Every single part of her ached, from her distended, cum-bloated belly to her gaped, battered ass and marehood, and she hadn’t the slightest idea of how she was going to make it back to Sweetie’s apartment. She grunted and nearly collapsed when she tried to stand, shakily getting to her feet like a newborn fawn.

Looking to her left and right, she found her duster thrown to the side. Her mane was a disaster, her makeup was ruined, and it felt like there was as much seed on her as in her, yet she smiled all the same. Her friends and her sister had been right, Zebricans really did live up to all the gossip, and she considered herself blessed to have taken their words to heart. The hook had been set and it wouldn’t be a matter of if she sought out the ferocious touch of the striped thugs but when.

After retrieving and donning her coat, she leaned against a dumpster to catch her breath. There was an all too real chance that she’d just been knocked up after she’d just endured, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She was getting older and the time would soon come for her to settle down, regardless of whether she was a single mother or not. Spreading her legs ever so slightly, she reached down with a trembling hand to rub herself.

Her marehood winked at the touch, though it wasn’t the same as it once had been. She’d been remade, emerging from a lifelong chrysalis with her eyes open to what real pleasure was, and there was no going back. As she closed her eyes and rolled her head back, her thoughts wandered.

She could always hire someone to run the Carousel Boutique and the Canterlot Carousel, making sure her products made their way to the public, and it wasn’t like there were any world-ending threats to deal with anymore. Perhaps it was time to start enjoying herself a little - for goodness’ sake, she deserved it after all the adventures she’d had. Wondering what the future would hold for her, she was stricken with an idea.

There was a way she could spoil herself, one which could be quite lucrative in its own right, and she knew just the mare to help her with it. Striped adult films, ones where pony mares were marked and claimed by zebra stallions, had been enormously successful since the refugees had flooded into Equestria; if she were to pursue a career as an actress, being fucked on camera by one giant stud after another, she could kill two birds with one stone, and she knew just the mare to help her with such pursuits. Stumbling out of the backstreet and continuing to mindlessly get herself off, uncaring that anyone who passed her by would see her disheveled, slatternly state, she ponderously made her way to her sister’s place…

Scootaloo

Scootaloo yawned and lazily pushed herself up, awoken in her bed by the sun creeping in through the open doorway of her hut. The warm, dry air was a far departure from what she was used to in Equestria, but that was far from a bad thing - especially considering where she was. Noticing a figure walk past outside, she smiled and ground her thighs together.

Yeah, visiting Zebrica was just what the doctor had ordered. She could sleep in as late as she wanted, the food was insanely good, and the dick - sweet mercy, she was practically swimming in big, meaty zebra cock. Since she’d arrived a week ago, coming with Sweetie to experience the culture, not a single day had gone by when she hadn’t been plowed by at least one of the tribe’s studs.

Looking to her left, she smiled down at her latest conquest. She hadn’t the slightest idea what the big lug’s name was, what he did for a living, or if he was single or not, but none of those things mattered. They’d exchanged a few words the night prior, she’d flashed her tits, and bam - the next thing she knew, he had her folded like a pretzel and was rutting her brains out. As she felt his essence leaking from her battered marehood, she glanced over and frowned.

Sweetie Belle’s empty bed rested at the opposite side of the hut. Ordinarily speaking, she could excuse her friend for disappearing for a night of fun, although this was the third morning in a row where her friend had been absent. She pushed herself up and quietly stretched, twisting in place to loosen up, before bending over and fetching a pair of shorts and crop top from her duffel bag.

While wasn’t necessarily worried about her partner in crime, not for the least of which reasons being they’d brought a camera crew with them to document their erotic exploits, this was getting ridiculous. Her first and best assumption was that Sweetie had found a particularly domineering stud to play with, the type of stallion who’d dragged her back to his home for an extended stay, but that raised a concern in and of itself. If her assumption she was right, her friend should have come to get her for a threesome!

Seeing herself out and into the open air, after getting dressed, she shielded her eyes and scanned the village. The tribe they were staying with wasn’t the biggest, but it was large enough to make finding someone a bit difficult. Seeing a pair of zebras heatedly chatting and pointing at a basket of fruit, seemingly in a discussion, she trotted over and waved.

“Sup,” she began, drawing their attention. “Have either of you seen Sweetie?”

The duo went quiet and looked at her in confusion. One of the more frustrating things about being in Zebrica was that not everyone spoke ponish, making even simple communication a bit of a trial - sure, it was easy enough to show some skin and get the point across that you wanted to get some action, but that didn’t help her with hunting someone down. She extended her index finger and held it to her forehead, making a crude approximation of a horn to get her point across.

“Sweetie,” she repeated. “She’s a pony like me - well, minus the wings.”

To her mercy, one of the two stallions seemed to understand what she was trying to convey. Turning and pointing to a particularly large structure, the biggest one in the village, he smiled down at her. If she wasn’t on a quest to find her missing friend, she would have shown her gratitude in the best way she knew how - sadly, at least for the time being, he’d have to wait and hope that she could find and recognize him later.

Sauntering away, she flicked her tail and winked back at him. “Thanks, hot stuff.”

While she casually trotted to her destination, her thoughts absently wandered. Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t been her or Sweetie’s idea to come to Zebrica - it had been Rarity’s. She’d seen mares develop a love for exotic studs - hell, Sweetie and herself were hooked on the big bastards so badly that they’d practically cornered the market on striped porn, but the couture was on an entirely different level. All it had taken was a single serving of zebra cock for the Element of Generosity to give up her business and foal-factory for the big bastards.

She chuckled at the thought of Rarity. The designer, much like Apple Bloom, had gleefully gotten herself knocked up and was well on her way to becoming a single mom - something she’d been giving more and more thought about recently. Seeing as how she wasn’t getting any younger, and that there were plenty of nubile little mares who’d joined the adult entertainment industry as of late, maybe she should lay off the contraceptives and get a bun in her oven.

Laughing, she shook her head and started up the stairs to the central lodge. She knew it wasn’t a matter of if she’d give up her acting career, hanging up the fishnets in exchange for a home-life, but that was a way off. For the time being, so long as the check and fat cocks kept rolling in, she was going to live her life without being tied down to anything or anyone! As she approached the entryway and the beaded curtain separating her from the building’s interior, an all too familiar sound crept to her ear.

The muted gags and hushed, sinful whimpers drifting outside were unmistakable. She could recognize the sound of Sweetie sucking a dick, having worked with her buddy for the better part of two years, and the soft racket gave her a moment for pause. Though she didn’t care about barging in and interrupting an intimate moment, there was a darn good chance that whatever lewd hijinks were transpiring were being filmed.

She lifted a hand and stealthily crept through the beaded curtain, taking care to be as silent as possible, and froze. Her assessment had been right, Sweetie was choking herself on a stud, but certain details of the obscene scene caught her eye. For starters, the unicorn was blowing the tribe’s chieftain, a mountain of mountains amongst the zebras he commanded - secondly and more curiously, her friend’s attire was anything but typical.

More often than not, she and Sweetie would have to strip down to get nasty with someone, regardless of who it was or where they were going to pound town. They’d make concessions to their wardrobe on occasion, usually if they were shooting a film with a theme or something silly like that, which may explain why her buddy was wearing a garter belt, bridal veil, leggings, arm socks, and not a darn thing else. Left to presume she’d walked in on some sort of lewd wedding scenario between the chief and his newest concubine, she bit her lip and ground her thighs together.

“She’s quite devoted, is she not?” a deep, rich whisper inquired.

Scootalloo whipped around and craned her neck up at the titan standing just behind her. Definitely on the bigger side of zebras, even compared to his impressively built striped kin, the colossus smirked and coolly eyed her over before motioning to the door. Whoever he was, he could obviously communicate with her, had some idea of what was going on, and was considerate enough not to interrupt the ongoing film-making - that and he was pretty fucking hot to boot.

Once she’d followed him out, she folded her arms over her modest tits and cocked her hips to one side. “Heck of a setup they’ve got going on in there. Honestly, I’m a little jealous that I didn’t think of the wedding angle with the chief.”

“Angle?” the titan countered.

“Yeah, the whole ‘I’m going to marry the chieftain and give him an heir’ shtick,” she giggled.

He knit his brow and gave a small snort at her assertion. “It’s not a shtick, whatever that means. Sweetie has - is committing herself to our leader and she will give him several heirs.”

Askance with her jaw going slack, she stared up at him. “Bullshit - bull shit. There’s no way in Tartarus Sweetie would do something like that without at least telling me first - for buck’s sake, that’s just crazy!”

“Crazy it may be, but it’s the truth,” he mused. “I must admit, your friend has a certain charm to her. It’s been many, many years since my father has taken a new bride for himself, and he’s never claimed anyone other than a zebra, so I was a bit surprised myself.”

As she opened her mouth to reply, his words sank in. “The chief is your dad?!”

“He is,” the stud confirmed. “I am Likita, his eldest and, as you would call it, the shaman of our tribe.”

“Scootaloo, but everyone just calls me Scoots,” she responded, reeling from the deluge of information. “So your dad is currently knocking up my best friend?”

“If he hasn’t knocked her up already,” Likita hummed. “I’m sure either of them would be happy to explain everything themselves, but we should allow them a bit of privacy. We could talk more at my hut, if you’d like.”

With a wolfish smirk splitting her muzzle, she peered up and into his eyes. “Talk more ~ heh! You sure you’re not just trying to one-up your dad by getting an even hotter broodmare for yourself?”

He turned and shrugged before plodded away. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill some time by doing something other than chatting?”

She lifted a finger to protest, to claim that this was one of the few moments when she wasn’t out trying to get her cunt stuffed, yet the sight of his sculpted ass, an ass which was almost completely exposed behind his loincloth, made her hastily reassess her priorities. Whether he was pulling her leg or not was anyone’s guess, but she wasn’t about to go and disrupt a shoot involving the chieftain. Feeling the fabric of her shirt gliding over her hardening nipples, she scampered after the lumbering behemoth and up to his side.

“A wise decision,” he murmured, glancing over at her. “I was a bit upset to learn that you and your companion had arrived on one of the few occasions when I was visiting another tribe…”

“Don’t blame me!” she grumbled. “We got here, greeted your dad, and we’ve just been hanging out since then!”

Grunting, he slowed ever so slightly. “Had I been here at the time, I would have tended to you both personally.”

“Like fucking our brains out?” she guffawed.

“Amongst other things,” he flatly noted. “It is a chief’s duty to oblige his guests. Considering you and your friend’s reputation, it would only be appropriate that I see to your amorous needs…”

Her smile wavered a touch as she reached up and patted his bicep. “Listen, as much as I appreciate the thought, we’re sort of needy in the bedroom department. Scootaloo isn’t as bad as I am, but it’s rare for her to be satisfied by just a single stallion.”

Coming to the front of a somewhat ornate hut decorated with bones and fetishes, he pulled back the curtained door and waved her inside. “A lofty claim. No matter what sort of experience you have, I feel confident saying I could break you easily…”

“That a bet?” she chirped, trotting into his home.

“More of a promise,” he muttered, dipping his head and following in after her, “but talk is cheap. This may be a bit sudden, but I’d be more than happy to, as you ponies put it, put my bits where my mouth is.”

Peering at a cauldron resting above a small fireplace in the center of the circular room, she was immediately reminded of Zecora’s hut in the Everfree forest. “If you want to try a potion on me, go nuts. Not to brag or anything, but I’ve had a few in my day.”

He only paid her the slightest mind while crossed to and plucked a bottle hanging from the ceiling near his bed. “Your hubris is staggering.”

“Thanks - I think,” she tittered, skipping up behind him. “What’s that?”

“This,” he began, holding the little vial aloft, “is something typically reserved for - no…” Placing the bottle back from the rope which it was suspended from, he turned his eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry, there are some extremes that even I won’t -”

“Just tell me what it is!” she blurted, cutting him off and petulantly stamping her foot.

Grimacing over at her, he snatched the vial. “It’s something reserved for only the most obstinate, reckless mares.”

“Ooooooooooh - I see,” she excitedly bleated. “Lemme guess, it’ll make me more docile or something? No, wait! Is it an aphrodisiac?!”

He somehow managed to appear both annoyed and amused as he lowered his hand and offered her the bottle. “Since you’re so energetic, why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she grabbed the potion, unstopped the cork, and downed the contents in a flash. While she didn’t imbibe them often, she’d tried plenty of elixirs in the past, both on and off set, so she wasn’t concerned in the slightest. The way she saw it, even in a worst case scenario, she’d get a bit tipsy and wind up getting creampied by a legit shaman - something she hadn’t even known was on her bucket list.

“Not bad,” she remarked, passing him the emptied bottle. “Tastes kind of like…”

She went quiet as an odd warmth blossomed in her chest. Her knees buckled, she could sense her heart starting to race, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis, leaving her to stumble to the side and brace herself against the wall. Whatever she’d just taken was hitting her like a freight train, but that was only the beginning.

With her breath hitching in her throat, she drew a breath through her nose, stiffened, and began sniffing the air. She hadn’t caught it earlier, but the most incredible smell lingered in the air. The aroma was familiar but vastly more heady than anything she could recall, bringing her attention to what had to be the source of the musky, earthy bouquet. As she peered at his loincloth and noticed something shift beneath the strip of leather, her marehood seized so fiercely that she fell to her knees.

“Stand,” he commanded, stepping before her.

Compelled by a force more powerful than she could describe, she forced herself up and onto her feet. “W…what’s…”

Ignoring her plight, he fetched a small crock resting atop a table sat in the corner. “Strip.”

She did as he asked without question, shakily pulling her shirt up and over her head before going to unbutton her shorts. While she would have done what he wanted under almost any circumstance, unwilling to turn down the opportunity to get rutted by a Zebrican, this was different. Her body moved seemingly of its own, obeying him while her mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

With her body fully exposed, he walked over and dipped a brush into the small urn he held. She’d been striped more times than she could count, yet this time was different in a number of ways. Not only did she feel like she was suddenly weathering a profoundly intense heat, but it was difficult to form a coherent thought. Remaining still and keeping her arms to her sides, she watched as he systematically painted dark bands of ink over her body.

To his credit, he made no move to tease or toy with her, methodically marking her from her feet up to her face, although that changed as soon as he was finished with his task. Having expected - heck, hoped he’d command her to suck him off or present herself in some unseemly way, she was taken off guard when he sat the paint down, turned his back to her, and placed a foot on his bed. Seeing his sculpted backside and the grin on his snout, she drifted toward him.

Though he didn’t say a thing, her instincts told her what he expected. He was a fine specimen, as or more impressive than any of the studs she’d been paired with while on set, and he demanded worship. Burying her muzzle in the cleft of his behind, she clutched his hips and feasted on his rear.

The pungent, masculine fragrance that clung to her sinuses spoke to her deepest, most bestial urges. It was hard for her to say what she loved most about zebras, adoring every little thing about the impressive equines, but she’d always been partial to their virility. Having slept with a few pony stallions in her day, she could definitively say that Zebricans were in a league all their own.

“I’ll - Mmmm - make an honest mare out of you,” he breathed, rolling his hips back and grinding his hole against her lips. “You may have had your fun on film and stage, but now it’s time for you to embrace your true purpose.”

Shuffling forward and between his legs, she dragged her tongue over his taint and to his ripe, weighty balls. She’d heard what he said, understanding every word, but she would not - could not keep herself from venerating him. No matter what the purpose was that he’d mentioned, in that moment, she would accept any fate he had in store for her.

She left a trail of saliva in her wake, polishing his nuts and gradually working her way in front of him and to his stallionhood. His ass and tremendous coin purse had been an appetizer, wetting her appetite and making her so aroused that her marehood ached with desire, and now it was time for the main course. Like the lust-crazed whore that she was, she leaned back, lifted his stallionhood up to her face, and hotly made out with his cock-head.

Peering up at his face while she wrapped her lips around his shaft, she swooned. There was something magical about looking up at a stud while sucking them off, feeling small and insignificant compared to them, and it was something that she’d never grown tired of. She cradled his balls with one hand and held his hips with the other, completely ignoring her drenched, leaking cunt, while she drove her head forward and began sucking him off in earnest.

There’d been a time when she’d gag trying to fellate something so huge, yet that felt like a lifetime ago. Her eyelids fluttered and her pulse quickened as her throat bulged from the immense intrusion. Like she’d done with many stallions before him, she steeled herself as she forced inch after inch of his shaft down and into her gullet.

This was her place, kneeling or bent over before a veritable demigod of masculinity, and it didn’t matter if she was being filmed or not. There were some mares who tried to act civilized, pretending they didn’t secretly desire to be conquered and plowed by a stud who was bigger and more powerful than them, but those mares were fools. She only slowed when she reached his medial ring, struggling to get the fat band of flesh past her lips, and blinked a tear out of her eye.

“After today, your career is finished,” he growled.

His comment cut through the mental fog and gave her a moment of clarity. It took everything she had to fight the urge to stop blowing him, having only just started, but she threw herself back and freed her muzzle. While she wasn’t opposed to dirty talk or sinful promises, secretly adoring when stallions thought they could keep her or make a marefriend out of her, claiming that she’d stop being a porn star was something else entirely.

Staring up at him, she licked pre-cum and sweat from her lips. “W…what?”

“You came to Zebrica to experience our culture ~ did you not?” he inquired, cocking his head. “I will take you as my wife and make you the mother of my foals.”

On any other day, she would have laughed off such a lofty claim, dismissing it as a cheesy bit of dialogue from a script, but this wasn’t any other day. Every bit of intuition she had told her that he was being serious, that she’d reached an unforeseen juncture in her life, and she wanted - no, needed to heed his call. At a loss for words, grappling with the existential gravitas of the situation, she knelt motionless as he stepped back and motioned for her to stand.

“If you want it,” he purred, flexing his groin and setting his stallionhood to twitch, “present yourself and allow me to sow the seed of life within you…”

She pushed herself up and scrambled to her feet, moving so fast that she nearly stumbled and fell. To Tartarus with it - if she was fated to end up with a shaman in some remote Zebrican village, she really, truly wouldn’t mind. Wheeling around bending forward at the waist, she stood on the balls of her feet, braced her legs, and placed her hands on his hide-covered mattress.

Leaning in and running a hand up her inner thigh, he drew his fingers over her winking, drooling pussy. “A fine sight,” he cooed, “and a delicate fruit that -”

“J…just fuck me already,” she whimpered, feeling like she was teetering on the brink of madness.

His expression hardened as his eyes shot up to her face. “I will fuck you if and when I’m ready - not before. If you truly wish to devote yourself to me, you will learn respect ~ is that clear?”

A pang of fear shot through her as she fretfully nodded. “Y…yes, Sir.”

He smiled as he guided and kissed his stallionhood to her entrance. The feeling of his endowment against her lower lips sent a bolt of pleasure up her spine and made her weak in the knees - nevertheless, she didn’t buck back against him. She’d only known him for a short time, less than an hour, but she already knew that he was a stud who demanded her full fealty.

“With this,” he rumbled, steadily plunging into her and stretching her open, “you are reborn…”

The statement resonated with her like nothing ever had, making her climax purely from prophetic weight alone. Trembling and mewling out, she remained standing from sheer willpower alone as he started thrusting. Each stroke was a taste of heaven, the barest hint of the nirvana he had to offer, and it was only then that she realized he’d been right about her.

Whether he had otherworldly powers of divination or not didn’t matter - in the end, this was where she belonged. The blunt tip of his shaft hammered against her womb, his medial ring ground against her g-spot, and his balls slapped against her bulging clit, while ropes of saliva hung and dripped from her chin. This shaman, this Likita, was singular, unique amongst all the studs she’d ever been with, and he was going to make her his - she was sure of it.

Her refractory period was virtually nonexistent while being rutted by a zebra, it always had been and it likely always would be, although disappeared with the witch doctor. No sooner had the influx of ecstasy of her first climax begun to subside than a second orgasm hit her, followed by a third and then a fourth, until she lost control of herself. Rivers of nectar flowed from around his length, painting his legs, groin, and floor beneath him with her essence, while every drop of seed that lingered in her depths was washed away.

It would have been impossible for her to say the things he’d done with her - to her, as she lost herself to the lunacy of pleasure incarnate. Flashes of being in different positions in his hut, paired with unimaginable bliss and the echoes of her rapturous wails, were the only memories she retained of that day, evening, and eventual night. It wasn’t until the sun had long since set that the barest traces of her sanity returned.

She eventually found herself resting against him, laying atop his torso while lazily nursing on his semi-rigid stallionhood. Be it from muscle memory, the need to tend to him, or some combination of the two, she’d been able to serve him and lick him clean after he was well and thoroughly finished with her - in any case, the flavor of his seed and her juices brought with it a certain contentment. Though she couldn’t fully see herself, laying on her stomach, she felt the warmth and weight of what had to be at least a half-dozen of his loads marinating in her womb.

“You’re insatiable,” he whispered, prompting her to look back and over her shoulder at him.

Though obviously weary, he appeared pleased with her efforts. She was only barely able to push herself up, forcing her arms to obey her, as she smiled back at him. The impassioned tryst may have seemed like it was pulled from the pages of a script, the sort of thing that would never happen in real life, but that simply wasn’t the case. Did he really intend to make her his bride? Would he start a family with her? How could he be so sure about her destiny? What did her future hold? A thousand questions swirled in her mind, but there was one thing she was certain of - she’d stepped into a new, wondrous chapter of her life…

Sweetie

What was supposed to be a week-long vacation had stretched into months upon months - still, Sweetie Belle couldn’t have been happier with the direction her life had taken. The magical paint adorning her from head to toe had permanently marked her as the betrothed of a Zebrican chieftain, her breasts were full and heavy with milk, and she was on the cusp of delivering her first foal as her lips dutifully mopped a long, thick ebony length of flesh. Seated on the floor before a throne and between Oba’s, her loving husband’s, thighs.

The approving smile on his face never failed to warm the depths of her heart, yet that was but one of his captivating features. Tall and heavy set, he was a giant among giants and looked every part of the wise, caring ruler that he was. While he may have been old enough to be her father, his virility and strength left nothing to be desired.

She shifted slightly and caressed her distended belly, feeling their unborn colt shift within her. It had come as no surprise that she’d eventually ended up carrying a zebra foal, although the specific circumstances of her newfound family still gave her moments of amused awe. Oba had told her that he would make a wife of her, erasing her unbecoming and frankly whorish youth from existence, and he’d done just that.

Leaning forward and running his fingers through her long, luscious mane, he beamed. He’d given her everything she could ever want and then some, ensuring his tribe accepted her as one of their own, and she never went without. Likita, his son and local shaman, had tended to her and promised that their foal would be healthy and strong, though she was far from the only expecting mare in the village. Whether from serendipity or just dumb, blind luck, Scootaloo was now her daughter-in-law and a mother to be as well.

“A visitor approaches,” a voice called from just outside, causing her and her lover to glance at the door.

Straightening up in his seat, Oba waved a hand. “Let them come.”

Sweetie remained where she was, using one hand to lovingly knead her stud’s balls while stroking the base of his shaft with the other. Zebricans held little regard for Equestrian sensibilities, accepting that a mare’s place was to tend to her foals and her mate, so amorous displays were commonplace in the harsh, arid lands in which she now resided. Hearing the beaded curtain of the door swing open, she went rigid when a marish, all too familiar gasp caught her ear.

“S…S…Sweetie?” Rarity sputtered.

Though she heard her name clearly, she remained where she was to continue worshiping the seated giant. Her place, figuratively and often literally, was beneath him, and there wasn’t a day that passed when she wasn’t thankful to him for showing her the light. Dragging her tongue up his shaft and to the thick folds of skin of his sheath, she met his eyes when he looked down upon her.

She coolly withdrew and continued to languidly jack off the chief, only then choosing to speak. “Sir, may I?”

Reclining, he gave a faint nod. “You may.”

She rose and turned to face her sister. Dressed in an impractical parody of an adventurer’s outfit, consisting of a pith hat, blouse, shorts, and a pair of boots that had likely never touched mud, Rarity looked over at her with a mixture of awe and shock. Stepping back and leaning against Oba’s, she smiled.

Her sister hadn’t come alone. Carrying a little striped filly in her arms, the bastard offspring from some unnamed stud who’d knocked her up either in Manehattan or Ponyville, Rarity was the quintessential, albeit well dressed single mother. Having received no forewarning of the visit, she was as pleased as she was curious about her sibling’s appearance.

“Been a little while, Rarity,” she hummed, giggling as a set of strong, calloused fingers wandered up her thigh and to her nethers.

Visibly gulping, Rarity fidgeted in place. “Y…yes - uh - it h…has been some time.”

There weren’t many mirrors in the village, given that the residents had little need to look at themselves, but Sweetie could understand why her sister was stunned. Clad in a grass skirt and nothing else, her body was bare for all to see. While she would like to say she was the same mare she’d always been, her appearance had changed dramatically after devoting herself to Oba.

Golden hoops hung from her ears, a delicate chain hung between her pierced nipples, and the black stripes on her white coat would never wash away. Though the tribe - her tribe would be considered in many ways, lacking the advantage of Equestrian technology, their mastery of potions and elixirs was unquestionable. The black, magical ink anointing her marked her as Oba’s wife, property, and mother of his heir, and she loved him for the rare honor.

“It’s a colt,” she mused, noticing Rarity peering over at her belly. “You know, I’m kind of surprised I hadn't thought about this earlier…”

With a start, Rarity looked away. “It’s f…funny you should mention that. After hearing about you and Scootaloo, not to mention my own group of friends all having foals of their own, I thought it was about t…time I move on and settle down a bit.”

“Good,” Oba huffed, lightly slapping Sweetie’s rear. Turning his attention over to the elder unicorn, he grimaced. “Who’s the father?”

“W..well, I’m n…not entirely sure,” Rarity stammered. Bending forward and setting the young filly down, she ran her fingers through her daughter’s little mohawk. “I love her with all my heart, but I feel as though her life would be better if she had a full family.”

Oba smiled warmly down at the young zebra mare before turning his eyes up to Rarity. “And whose decision was it for you to sire a bastard? If starting a family is what you wanted, you should have come to us sooner. Unlike Equestrians and the young Zebricans who have moved to your lands, we have standards,” he explained, fondling Sweetie’s rump. “Sit.”

Sweetie stepped in front of him, squatted down, and nonchalantly impaled herself on him while he spoke. Though her heart skipped a beat and her eyes rolled back, she bit her bottom lip to stifle herself. It was her privilege to serve him, regardless of where they were or whom was watching, and it was far from the first time that she’d fucked herself on him in someone else’s presence.

Rarity’s jaw went slack and her eyes widened as she started to move. She realized that such moments would come to an end before long, if only temporarily after she’d given birth, but that only meant she savored each and every one. Reclining against his stomach and chest, having hilted the entirety of his gargantuan shaft, she gyrated her hips and fiercely gripped his stallionhood.

Unable or unwilling to look away from her sister’s stuffed cunt, Rarity licked her lips. “S…surely there’s a fine stallion in this village who would be interested in m…making an honest mare out of me.”

Oba shrugged and snaked his hands under Sweetie’s arms. “That’s not my place to say….”

Rarity shied back as the chieftain squeezed Sweetie’s tits and sent milk showering over the floor. “W…well perhaps you would be interested. As Sweetie will tell you, I’m one of the Elements of Harmony - not only t…that, but I’m her elder sist-”

“That means nothing here,” Oba growled, planting his feet and nonchalantly driving his hips upward. Ignoring the squealing, whimpering mare riding his cock, he glowered over at his guest. “I won’t stop you from seeking a mate in my village, but Sweetie is more than enough to keep me happy.”

Sweetie convulsed and spontaneously climaxed, yet she didn’t slow. Though Oba often spoke fondly of her, flattering her and praising her for her beauty, fertility, and devotion, his kind words had a way of exciting her like few things ever had. He was incredible in every sense of the word, in spite of his age, and he was the first stallion to ever treat her as more than simply a lay.

Turning her head as he pecked her cheek, she slipped a trembling hand to the back of his head and locked lips with him.

His powerful tongue sank into her muzzle while he pinched and twisted her tender, rock-hard nipples. Zebrican studs were the only creatures on the face of the planet who could make her climax multiple times in short order, although Oba was a cut above the rest. Maybe his size gave him an advantage, or perhaps the knowledge that he was the father of her unborn colt played a part - ultimately, irrespective of what specific thing about him made him so incredible, she was putty in his hands.

Flung to the cusp of another climax, trembling from head to toe, she panted when he broke the kiss and turned his attention back to his visitor. She followed suit seconds afterwards, having nearly forgotten about her sister in the brief seconds he’d made out with her, and dutifully continued to milk his length. A part of her felt bad for Rarity, but there was nothing she could do - well, almost nothing.

As she gave Oba a pleading look, he sighed. “Fine. Seek out my son, Likita. He has a wife of his own, but he may be able to offer you some insight.”

“Thank you,” Rarity blurted, bowing her head and backing to the door. “Thank you so much, Sir Oba.”

“Thank your sister,” he grunted, continuing to play with the expectant unicorn’s tits. “Were it not for her, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Rarity slipped a fleeting glance over to Sweetie, faltered, and hastily rushed out of the hut with her filly in her arms. There were plenty of stallions in the village, including a sizable number who’d undoubtedly be happy laying claim to a unicorn, but that was no guarantee of her sister’s success. Standing at the precipice of a second release, she started to move.

While the position she was in didn’t afford her total freedom, there was plenty she could do to please both herself and her lover. Bouncing on his dick and rubbing his sides, she rested her head against his collar and loudly moaned. Unlike when she was on a set, back when she’d been starring in films, there wasn’t a theatrical element to her actions.

She hadn’t asked, but she felt comfortable saying that everyone in the village had either heard or seen them making wild, unabashed love with him. When he was tending to his duties and settling disputes in the tribe, she was either on his side or swabbing her throat with his stallionhood - when the days were finished or before they’d begun, her role was to serve him in any way he saw fit. She was a homemaker, a wife, and a lover - that was when his passion didn’t reduce her to a convenient cock warmer.

Like many times before and many times yet to come, she wore his patience thin. His hands drifted down to her hips, holding her tightly when he tensed his legs and started thrusting into her. Even if she’d wanted to resist him, to get away for some unfathomable reason, there was no stopping him once he fell into a rut.

It only took her a moment to get his timing down and clench her marehood around him on his backstrokes. They’d screwed in more positions than most could dream of, given her flexibility and his unyielding strength, and it was hard for her to pick a favorite among them. Breathing hard and sensing the crown of his dick slam against her womb, she winced.

“O…Oba,” she began, drawing his eye. “May we move to the bed?”

She struggled to think of any drawbacks about being pregnant, but one was that certain positions weren’t as accommodating as they’d once been. The weight of her foal, plus the size and heft of her bust, made being on top a bit of a workout - mercifully for her, Oba was more than capable of picking up the slack. She peeked back at him as she guided one of his hands up to her abdomen.

His amusement faded seeing the trace of discomfort on her face. “But of course, love. Shall I carry you?”

She nodded moments before his big, burly arms wrapped around her torso and under her bust. It wasn’t that uncommon for him to pick her up and carry her, especially now that she was close to her due date, yet she adored it each and every time. His stallionhood was buried in her depths, she could hear and feel the massive heart beating in his bosom, and his grip was like iron as he stood and lumbered over to their bed. Staring over at the mattress, the very one they’d conceived their foal upon, she felt suddenly torn.

Something told her that she could rest, that catering to her lust wouldn’t be in her best interests, yet her desire for more was too strong. Scrunching her snout as he unsheathed her and delicately placed her on the bed, he peered up at him. The slight of his slickened stallionhood glistening in the dim light, bobbing well within her reach, did nothing to hamper her raging libido - if anything, it only magnified her desire.

Steadily rolling onto her back, she wiggled her tush to the edge of the mattress and splayed her legs. She could have begged him, asking him to give her what she craved, but that wouldn’t be necessary. Throughout their time together, they’d learned one another well enough to communicate without actually saying a thing.

He smirked and shook his head while his eyes settled on her winking, gaped pussy. “To think you’d present yourself for an old, fat stallion like me.”

While he may have been old by most standards, he was anything but fat - sure, he carried a bit of extra weight, but anyone his age would kill for a body like his. His thighs and biceps were tree trunks, his pecs were like boulders, and his mighty stallionhood was a war club in everything but name. He was as beautiful as he was mountainous, and he was all hers.

Undeterred, she reached down and shamelessly rubbed her clit. “Only for you, daddy…”

Typical dirty talk didn’t work on him, it never had and she doubted it ever would, yet there was one exception to that rule. For one reason or another, though she knew not why, calling him daddy got his motor running. She presumed he had some unspoken fetish, since she was young enough to be his daughter, but that wasn’t important - what was important was that his cock jerked the moment she’d uttered the word.

“So that’s how it is,” he chuckled, grabbing one of her ankles in each hand. Driving her legs up and back, he forced her feet over her head and loomed over her. “Beg me for it…”

“D…daddy, please…” she breathed, rolling her hip and rubbing her upturned marehood against the underside of his shaft.

Stepping back, he brought his cock-head to her sex. “Please what?”

Gazing down her chest, between her udder-like breasts and over her distended stomach, she fixated on the obsidian goliath that was his stallionhood. “P…please give me another foooooOH!!!”

Her pitiable request devolved into a guttural, incoherent groan as he plunged into her. There wasn’t a thing wrong with riding him - heck, there’d been time when she’d done it until her legs gave out, but nothing - nothing could beat the sensory overload of having him lock her in a mating press. Since Likita had assured her that the ordinarily demanding position wouldn’t harm her or her foal, she wasn’t worried about being utterly dominated by her stud.

With his medial ring teasing her entrance, leaving the root of his length free from her balmy confines, he dipped his head and nursed on her teat. His big, soft lips around her nipple made her hair stand on end. She felt like things would be different when she was breastfeeding her foal, but she wouldn’t be shocked if she took to rubbing herself while her colt was suckling on her.

Immobilized as she was, she tightened her grasp on his stallionhood. He would screw her if she’d asked, although softly goading him to act came with its own rewards. Sure enough, after writhing and softly cooing beneath him, her efforts bore fruit. He peered up at her, pulled back, and swallowed a mouthful of her milk as he steadied himself.

“So needy,” he chuckled, playfully bucking his hips.

With her arms pinned under her legs, she beckoned him with her fingers. “Only for you, daddy.”

Leaning in, his patience having worn thin or eager to indulge her, he kissed her while he began to rut her in earnest. Only able to squeal with delight, utterly at his mercy, she did just that. He had remade her in almost every conceivable way, transcending her from a literal porn star to a proud, expectant mother, and her body had gradually adjusted to accommodate his needs.

Zebrican stallions were large, far larger than pony stallions, although Oba’s endowment made even his most impressive kin appear modest in comparison. She joked that being his lover would make giving birth easy, that she’d be able to squeeze out their foal with little or no effort, and she may not have been wrong. With his stallionhood being nearly as thick as her calf and longer than her forearm, he’d ensured he would be the only stud capable of satisfying her.

Though she came within seconds, only withstanding a handful of thrusts from his cock, her orgasm was as mind-shattering as ever. Her back arched, milk sprayed from her heaving breasts, and her quivering marehood became a geyser of climactic juices. She truly did love him with all her heart, but she wouldn’t deny that his amorous skills and his monstrous dick had played no small part in her abject adoration of him.

As she rode out her ecstasy, her thoughts drifted to her time in Equestria. She knew good and well that she’d inspired innumerable mares to pursue striped lovers, having met no small number at conventions or off set, and that fact filled her with pride. As much as she wanted to feel bad for pony studs, they simply couldn’t compare to their exotic cousins with amorous affairs.

She wondered if she’d been the inspiration for Rarity’s exodus when her second climax hit her like a bomb. With her toes curling and her shrill, blissful wail raising an octave, what little strength she had fled from her. There was something profoundly intoxicating about being conquered by a stud of Oba’s caliber - doubly so considering he was the very stallion who’d put a foal in her.

“Oh buck,” she groaned, throwing her head back.

The bed slamming against the wall, her persistent mewling, and his resonant grunts crafted a sinful symphony that married perfectly with the scent of arousal and musk filling the air. Neither she nor Oba cared if anyone walked in on them - in fact, they practically welcomed it. Their love was no secret, and they had nothing to hide, so anyone foolish or lecherous enough to get a peek at them going at one another was more than welcome to watch them.

She was never one to believe in magic - well, outside of the type that could be wielded, but she knew she’d found something special when she laid eyes on him. Handsome, bigger than a yak, and with decades of experience pleasing mares, he was an unparalleled lover. Since she’d only come to Zebrica to have some fun, she’d been shocked when he proposed to take her as his mate.

Many mares would have refused the offer to wed a perfect stranger outright, but she wasn’t most mares. He gave her everything she ever wanted, the care and consideration her fellow actors were only paid to dole out, and she quickly became enamored with him. Lifting her head, reminded of how amazing he was, she kissed his neck.

She was intimately familiar with every facet of his being, from the taste of his sweat and his scent to the gradual upward curve of his endowment, and she knew she’d never tire of him - yeah, her endurance with him had grown over the months, but that was for his benefit. Gone were the days of cumming as soon as his stallionhood stretched her open, replaced by a zeal to return every ounce of his affection. She moved in tune with him, rhythmically constricting and relaxing her marehood around his girthy, godly tool.

Feeling a third orgasm building before the second fully finished, she tensed. It took her a moment to realize something was amiss, nearly lost to her blinding rapture, yet a singular sensation shook her from her stupor. A deep ache seized her abdomen, one not caused from Oba’s pistoning length, as she peeked down at her belly.

She couldn’t just feel her foal squirming and kicking at the taut flesh of her stomach, she saw it. A veritable torrent of fluid flowed from her depths, drenching the bed and Oba’s lower half, when realization dawned on her. She wasn’t close to giving birth to her foal, she was having her foal.

“O…Oba,” she shouted, “I think my water just broke!”

He stopped in an instant, twisted his head to the side, and looked down to her belly. With a speed belying his titanic size, he leapt back, freed his stallionhood, and knelt by her side. Being a chieftain of many years, it was far from the first time he’d been present to greet a new member of his tribe - even so, the care and concern in his eyes was beyond reproach.

“Sssssssh,” he hissed, taking her hand in his own. “Breathe…”

Though she’d been coached for this moment, walked through the motions by a number of the village mothers and Likita alike, she’d be lying if she said her arousal wasn’t immediately eclipsed by concern. Taking long, deep breaths, she braced her feet on the mattress and contracted her abdomen. The cool air against her marehood and exposed depths was yet more evidence that she was dilated, prepared to bring a life into the world, yet Oba’s grip reminded her that she was not alone.

She truly couldn’t say how long she lay there, keeping her eyes clamped shut while listening to her body. When her instincts told her to push, she pushed - it was as simple as that. While she couldn’t see it, she could feel her cervix yawning open while her foal gradually made his way to her entrance. The entire experience was surreal, the sort of thing that was hard to put into words, but she was immeasurably thankful that there was only the smallest amount of discomfort.

Setting her jaw and giving a final, triumphant push, she screamed when Òkè, her son, slipped from her depths. Her eyes snapped open as his cry met her ears. She’d done it, she’d weathered the storm and was now a mother, and she was not alone. Gathered around her, apparently having crept in to offer her their support, stood nearly a dozen of the tribe - her tribe.

Oba reverently lifted his foal in his hands, holding the little one up for all to see, and shed a tear. Sweetie had known his heart was kind and just, a fair ruler and fine stallion if ever there was one, yet the sight of him crying broke her. Openly weeping and holding his hand, overwhelmed on an existential level, she wiped at her face and sniffled.

Shuffling closer, Scootalloo snared her in a soft, affectionate hug. “You did good…”

“That she did,” Oba affirmed, bringing their foal to her bosom. “More than ever before, you are now one of us.”

Sweetie gazed down at her son, her little Òkè, and beamed. She didn’t have the words to thank them, appreciative beyond measure for Oba, Scootaloo, and the dozens of villagers who’d been nothing but supportive of her for months on end. Turning toward Oba as he kissed her cheek, she smiled up at the colossus.

“Thank you,” she began, looking between all the assembled faces. “Thank all of you so, so much…”

Peering from one zebra to the next, her eyes eventually settled on Rarity. She lifted a hand and waved her sister forward, feeling both guilty for being dismissive earlier and eager to share her newfound maternity with her only sibling. Motherhood was yet one more thing they had in common, and he was genuinely happy to have one of the only family members there to share the tender moment.

Rarity paused by the bed, lowered a hand to the small colt, and hesitated. “M…may I?” she breathed. As Sweetie nodded, she gently caressed the foal’s cheek. “He’s beautiful, darling.”

“Thanks,” Sweetie whispered, seeing the young filly, her niece, standing nearby. “I hope they get along together…”

“I’m sure they will,” Oba mused. Rising to his feet, he raised his hands over his head. “Tonight, we will feast to our three newest members of our tribe!”

The crowd roared in approval, whooping and hollering their adulation, yet Sweetie’s focus lay solely on her son. She’d only just met him, but he meant the world to her already. As he opened his big, blue eyes and peered up at her in wonder, fidgeting ever so slightly in her arms, she found the one thing she never knew she was looking for - she found true peace…

Braeburn

Trotting through the foyer of her homestead, Braeburn slowed when she lifted her gaze and caught her reflection in the glass door leading to the porch. Her fiery mane, golden coat, and jade eyes were the same as they’d ever been, although the rest of her was a different story. Clad in a pair of daisy, boots, and a front-tied flannel shirt, she could easily be mistaken for a mare - then again, given everything she’d been through, she essentially was a mare.

She sighed and shook her head as she continued outside and into the warm, dry air. The orchard was doing well, business was booming, and a great many of her woes had disappeared after she’d hired a trio of farmhands to help out around the ranch, but that didn’t mean her life had gotten much easier over the last few months - if anything, it was more complicated than it had ever been. Even though she’d done her best to prepare for having employees to look after, she could never have predicted just how much having a trio of big, strong Zebrican studs around would affect her.

One of the first things she’d noticed about her workers, aside from their mountainous sizes, was just how pleasant they were. Utata, Intaba, and Ikrele were all nearly twice her size and towered over her - still, in spite of their imposing physiques and towering statures, the three were well mannered and nothing but smiles. Looking over to the barn and the coach house that rested above it, she falteringly smiled.

She wouldn’t deny that the trio had grown on her considerably, insisting that they’d handle all the manual labor in her stead, and did what she could to make sure they were comfortable. Since she suddenly found herself with an abundance of free time on her hands, she would bring them cold drinks, cook their meals, and run errands for them as needed, although it hadn’t taken long for their innocent requests for snacks or fresh fruit to take an unexpected turn. As she continued onward, making her way to the barn with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand, her thoughts drifted back to when she’d discovered what they thought of her.

Usisi - she’d heard them use the word around her before, but it had taken her weeks to ask Utata, the biggest and most talkative of the three, what it meant. Though she’d been confused and embarrassed to learn that they’d been referring to her as sister in their native tongue, they’d assured her that it wasn’t a slight - in fact, they insisted it was a term of endearment. Simply being given a marish nickname had been enough to get her all sorts of flustered, yet that had only been the tip of the iceberg.

It hadn’t bothered her that they’d joked about her looks. Seeing as how she was downright dainty compared to any of them, and that her mane was long and lush, she’d brushed off their flattery as them just messing with her - still, the teasing and flattery didn’t stay as talk for too long. A hug here, a smack on the ass there - little by little, her guests started to get handsy with her. She would have complained and told them to stop, had it not been for one thing - she liked the attention.

On more than one night, she’d go back to her room after the day was done, lock her door, and touch herself while having inappropriate fantasies about the big, burly studs living only a few dozen yards from her house. She’d always grappled with her sexuality, suppressing her lustful urges for stallions, although it wasn’t until one fateful evening when her veneer of heterosexuality had shattered entirely. Having walked in on Utata and his friends showering, seeing water cascade down their downright godly bodies, she’d gotten a little excited and her interest in them had come to light.

Instead of being upset with her or disgusted by her, the trio had done the unthinkable - they’d indulged her. It was a night she’d never forget, one filled with wild, passionate lovemaking until the wee hours of the morning, and the sun had eventually risen on a new mare. She was still technically a stallion on a fundamental level, although her spirit, heart, and to an extent her body had blossomed into what she’d always dreamed to be.

Coming around the side of the barn, she scrunched her snout and snapped back to the present. “What’d I tell y’all about leaving the door open! It’s gonna be hotter than a blister bug in a pepper patch if’n y’all don’t close up behind yourselves.”

She turned, grabbed the handle of the massive sliding door with her free hand, and fruitlessly pulled. Seriously, if there was one gripe she had about her guests, it was that they had a hard time listening! Setting her jaw and straining her arm, she started when a massive hand reached from over her shoulder.

“I got it, Brae,” Utata rumbled, gently ushering her aside while he effortlessly closed the door. Turning to face her, he smiled. “Don’t think that’ll help much though…”

“And how do you figure that?” she groused, having to crane her head to look up at him.

Utata leaned in, brought his muzzle to her face, and snorted. “Because the place will be a lot hotter now that you’re in it.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks, her nipples went hard, and she instantly averted her gaze. “Aw hush, Uta. Ah ain’t fallin’ for your flirting again.”

Without skipping a beat, he ran his hand down her back. “So we should skip the flirting ~ eh?”

Sweet Celestia - the big bastard had a knack of making her weak in the knees. Stepping to the side, she thrust the pitcher of lemonade into his grip and marched deeper into the barn. “Nope, no sir! I’m just here to bring y’all something to drink and to check up on ya.”

Passing Intaba, who was sitting on the back of a wagon to remove his shoes, she made for the stairs leading up to their apartment. While it would have been nice to let them stay in her house, there simply wasn’t room for them in her home - that and the door frames weren’t exactly designed for stallions their size. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering where the third stud was lurking, yelped when something smacked against her ass.

Rubbing her stinging backside, she stopped in her tracks and glowered over at the open shower stall she’d been walking by. “Very funny, Ike…”

Ike smirked and continued drying himself off with the towel he’d snapped her with. She wanted to be mad, to tell him that that was no way to treat a lady, yet the sight of his naked body gave her a moment for pause. Like his companions, his chiseled muscles, striped hide, and sheer masculinity were wonders to behold, cementing her servile role and setting her heart to race.

“Have you been a good usisi today?” Uta purred in her ear as a set of thick fingers crept around her waist and into the front of her shorts.

Just as his digits reached the skin of her groin, she slapped his arm and leapt away from him. “Like y’all gave me much of a choice!”

“What?” Uta laughed. “You’re a clever mare, so I’m sure you could figure out how to take it off - that is, if you wanted to take it off…”

Staring up at him, she crossed her arms under her chest and silently pouted. He was dressed similarly to his friends, wearing jeans, working boots, and a tank top, although he had one accessory they didn’t. Hung from a small chain around his neck was a key - a key that ensured she only had one way of getting off.

“It ain’t funny, Uta,” she sulked, doing her darnedest not to peek down at the bulge in his pants.

“Who said anything about it being funny?” he smoothly countered. “It’s not like you were using it anyways ~ were you…?”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she ground her thighs together and felt the front of her shorts grow moist. She still couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten it on her, or where he’d gotten the darn thing for that matter, but she’d woken up in chastity roughly a month prior. He said the little cage was for her own sake, that it would help her appreciate their company, and he’d been right - well, mostly right.

“It’s getting tight ~ isn’t it?” he smugly hummed.

“N…no!” she bleated, stamping her hoof for good measure.

Standing tall, he loomed over her and grinned. “Then prove it.”

She went to protest, to tell him that she didn’t have to prove a dang thing, but she remained silent. Questioning him, especially in front of his friends, would only ensure a night of pent-up frustration and possibly, if she was lucky, a wet dream to clean up after come morning. Lowering her arms and turning her eyes to the dusty floor, she brought one hand to the front of her shorts and unfastened the button.

“There,” she murmured, pulling down her fly and revealing the glimmering chrome locked over her colthood.

“Awwww,” he sighed, stepping closer and closing the gap between them. “You’re this wet for little ol’ me? Well ain’t that sweet.”

Remaining right where she was, making no attempt to get away from him, she gnawed her bottom lip when he ran a finger over her pre-cum slickened chastity. The cage was a blessing and a curse; while it did heighten her sensitivity and make getting plowed even more incredible than it would have been otherwise, it robbed her of the ability to get sexual relief herself - sure, she could always go out and buy a dildo, but fucking herself silly was a line she wasn’t willing to cross. As his hand slid upward and beneath her shirt, she stifled a whimper.

“And these perky little tits,” he continued, lovingly squeezing her chest before tweaking one nipple. “Before you know it, you’ll be making all the mares in town jealous.”

Smacking his hand away, she locked eyes with him. “They ain’t tits!”

Her protest was laughable at best. While she may not have had a pair of expansive bosoms, there was no denying that the soft, sensitive mounds of doughy flesh where her pecs should have been weren’t breasts. She snatched his wrist when he went for the knot tying her shirt, realizing what he was going to do before he did it, but there was no stopping him.

He pulled at the fabric and caused her top to drift open and reveal her budding bust. “They look like tits to me, but just to be sure…”

As he squatted down and pulled her in, she threw her hands to his shoulders and tried to resist. “W…wait!”

The moment his pouting, black lips latched to her nipple, she softly moaned. She had no way of knowing if this was how mares felt when their breasts were suckled, but it felt absolutely incredible. Slipping the fingers of one hand through his mohawk and to the back of his head, relishing the sound and sensation of him humming around the delicate bud of flesh, she bucked her hips.

Her chest wasn’t the only part of her that had changed. The lack of manual labor had left her muscles to wither away and caused her figure to soften. With a trim waist, broad hips, and a backside that wouldn’t have been out of place on a bikini model, she could understand why stallions - real stallions would gawk at her when she went into Appleloosa for groceries.

As if her figure wasn’t a dead giveaway to her sexual interests, her voice and face were much different than they used to be. Plump lips, delicate features, a luscious mane, and a soft, lilting voice were the cherry on top, accentuating her look and reminding her of just how far she’d come whenever she spoke or looked into a mirror. Her metamorphosis had been gradual, so slow that she’d scarcely noticed it was happening at all, and she wondered where and when it would end.

Withdrawing with a soft pop, Uta wormed a finger down the back of her shorts and rubbed her winking backdoor. “Bet your pussy’s aching right now,” he cooed, kissing his way up her neck. “You like it when I call it that ~ don’t you?”

“M…mm-hmm,” she warily responded, humiliated but almost painfully aroused.

Uta straightened up and grunted and flashed his teeth at her. “How about you show it off for me and the studs…”

Looking around and seeing that she held both Ikre and Intaba’s attention, seeing them expectantly watching her, she swallowed hard. While she hadn’t consciously gone out to see the stallions for anything even remotely sexual, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest that things had taken a lecherous turn. The three had been working hard since before sunup, they were all healthy as oxen, and their libidos were higher than any pony’s she’d ever met - bearing all that in mind, it was her duty - no, her privilege to help them blow off some steam.

She sighed as she sauntered over to the empty, hopped up, and seated herself on the relatively cool wood. There was only one way this was going to end, but she wasn’t about to show how enthusiastic she was. The last time she’d shown any overt eagerness, being assertive enough to hit on one of them, they’d denied and teased her for the better part of a week, so she had to play it cool.

Removing her top and tossing it to the side, she leaned back and wiggled her shorts down her hips and over her thighs. Maybe it was because they were zebras, or perhaps she’d never had the best grasp on how stallions were supposed to treat a mare - in either case, she’d learned that being a bit submissive paid dividends. Her legs parted and she fully reclined as she kicked her cut-offs away.

Bending one knee and reaching between her thighs, she put her nethers on full display and kneaded her soft, yielding entrance. Her backdoor, much like the rest of her, had developed considerably. Once a taut crater between her cheeks, the pronounced, donut-like ring of her pucker had transformed to fulfill its true purpose. Extraordinarily loose and wickedly tender, her ass had become a snatch in all but name.

“Look at that sloppy cunt,” Uta mused, walking to her and cramming a trio of digits into her backside. “Yeah, you’re just begging for it now…”

She quivered and nodded as pre-cum oozed from her cage. Her family would be mortified of what she’d become, that she’d forsake any chance of ever getting a marefriend and settling down with a family, yet the sins of the flesh more than made up for anything she would have lost. Pawing at her chest and softly mewling while he fingered her p-spot, she bucked into his hand.

“Ah ah -” he tutted, stepping back, “I think me and the studs want a little bit of a show ~ don’t we?”

Glancing over at Ikre and Intaba, she glided her hand past her pitiable package and began fisting herself. Lubrication wasn’t an issue, given that she kept herself ready for a rutting at a moment’s notice, and there was no point in starting things slowly. Uta had taught her a number of things, but one of the most prudent was that subtlety was not a strength.

She breathed hard and stared down at her crotch as she stuffed her hand into her well-trained behind. While once she would have been mortified to do such a thing, much less in front of anypony, the hope of what was to come, of her reward, was all too alluring. Twisting one nipple and continuing to loosen her already ass open, she listened to the trio snickering at her.

Sometimes the studs would pounce on her immediately - others, they’d take their time and savor her shameful displays; on this particular occasion, it took them several minutes before they grew weary of her spectacle. Ikre and Intaba flanked her, moving to either side of the cart, while Uta strolled between her legs, flexed his groin, and rested his tremendous stallionhood over her crotch. She couldn’t say when they’d undressed, save for Ikre who’d just finished showering, but seeing their monstrous, turgid endowments set her heart racing.

“Little usisi,” Uta breathed, running his stallionhood over her cage and delicate coin purse. “Do you think we should let that little clit out for some fun?”

She paused, unsure if she was expected to answer, and whined when he slapped his cock against her balls. “I…I don’t know…”

“Of course you don’t,” he chuckled, whetting his length with her pre-cum. “You’re here for us, a pretty face, charming body, and warm, welcoming pair of holes for true studs ~ aren’t you?”

Nodding and extending her hands to either side, she lazily stroked off Ikre and Intaba. Surrounded by the three, even though none of them were particularly close to her face, she breathed in the thick, exhilarating musk radiating from them. Even before her body had started to change, back when she’d ignorantly considered herself a stallion, her natural scent was nothing like theirs.

Uta shied back and clutched the base of his shaft, drawing his cock-head down her taint and to her entrance, but then froze. “No,” he muttered. “If you want it, you must earn it.”

Despite having one colossal dick in each hand, she bolted upright and scrambled off the cart. She didn’t simply want them to use her - she needed them to use her. The depraved pleasure they delivered was unlike anything she’d ever known, twisting her and corrupting her on a fundamental level, and her life would be over if she didn’t appease them - of course, she could always find and entice another zebra for herself, but she owed these three for showing her her true path.

She fell to her knees as Uta eased himself down, laid back, and slipped his hands behind his head. It was obvious that he wanted her to please him, to worship him like the virile demigod he was, and she was all too happy to oblige him. Shuffling between his outstretched legs, she lowered her head and buried her snout in the thick folds of flesh at the root of his length.

His bouquet was divine, rich and more potent than what should have been possible, and it fogged her mind with glee. She moaned as she lifted her head, running her tongue up the sensitive underside of his length while looking past his monolithic dick and up to his smirking face. While she may not have been an actual mare, lacking a vulnerable womb for them to make use of, one definite benefit of her unique position was that she knew just how to service a stallionhood.

With the taste of sweat and bitter, unwashed flesh dancing over her palate, she reached the head of his shaft and wrapped her lips around him. She’d nearly gagged the first time she’d tried to suck one of them off, struggling to accommodate something so huge in her muzzle, yet time, patience, and regular practice had honed her skills. As she bobbed her head and worked him deeper into her gullet, his friends stepped over and flanked her.

She glanced left and right, up to Ikre and Intaba, while she brought her hands to their respective loins. Serving more than one of them was common, if only to warm one up until they’d had their turn, yet feeling the heat and weight of their cocks against her palms, unable to touch her thumb to her fingers around them, never failed to elevate her excitement. While it was a bit awkward and unfair just to nurse on the tip of Uta’s length, she did the best she could under the circumstances.

She almost felt like she was in some sort of juggling act, stroking off two studs while struggling to blow a third, yet being the center of attention was its own reward. Pre-cum wept from her chastity, leaking down in ropes to the earth, while her lust threatened to overtake her sanity. It was maddening to know that only they could give her what she so desperately desired, and she loved it.

Growing more frantic, unable to fully commit to any one of the three stallions while simultaneously getting more and more aroused herself, she toed the line of her breaking point. There was only so much anypony could endure - for her, feeling the cool air against her gaped, ravenous ass, she was nearly at her wit’s end. Seconds from withdrawing and begging, pleading for him to take her on the ground like some common whore, he waved a finger down at her.

“Fuck yourself on me, slut,” he whispered.

If he hadn’t sensed just how needy she was, he’d grown weary of her half-assed job of sucking his cock - regardless, she wasn’t going to give him time to change his mind. She straightened up in a flash and mounted him, dragging her cage over his cock until his stallionhood had settled between her buns. Guided by feel alone, temporarily forgetting all about his friends, she lifted her waist, kissed her pussy to his entrance, and sank down.

Bang

All it had taken was the sensation of his bloated cock-head against her p-spot to make her climax. Her eyes rolled back, the breath hitched in her throat, and thin, impotent seed weakly gushed from her twitching colthood. The orgasm was, as always, amazing, better than anything she could easily describe, but she couldn’t savor it - not yet at least.

She descended lower, hilting Uta in her behind as she turned her head to one side. As she’d expected, Intaba’s stallionhood stood proudly before her, inches from her snout. Throwing one arm out to her left and blindly feeling for Ike, not wanting him to feel left out, she clutched his awaiting dick and put her body to work.

This - this was an arrangement she could more easily grapple with. Bucking upon Uta like a seasoned cowgirl, she closed her eyes as Intaba clutched the back of her head and thrust into her face. In an instant, too fast for her to get a lungful of air, a gargantuan stallionhood was driven straight down her throat while a second rearranged her insides. She would have felt bad for Ike, understanding that a hand was a poor substitute for a mouth or an ass, but she wasn’t too concerned - after all, it would only be a matter of time until he got his turn.

She couldn’t say if all Zebrican stallions were like the three beefy angels living on her ranch, but she positively adored her studs. Their deep voices, the way they’d playfully slap her ass or catcall her, how incredible it felt to fall asleep after being bred by one or all of them - simply put, they were perfect. Reveling in their affection and practically drunk on the musk filling her nostrils, she flew into a frenzy - a frenzy the trio were more than happy to counter.

Uta clutched her hips and bucked into her, seizing control and making her move harder and faster than before, while Intaba held the base of her skull and swabbed her throat. They were usually like this, being gracious enough to allow her to start things off before taking the reins, but that wasn’t a complaint. If tending to their needs was phenomenal, being used like a sex-toy by them was downright heavenly.

She scarcely noticed when Ikre moved away from her, removing his dick from her grasp, although that allowed her to focus more on Intaba. Squeezing and massaging one tit, she cradled the titan’s balls in her palm. A good mare remembered to make a spectacle of herself, providing a visual feast for her lover or lovers, and she’d become less reserved in their company.

A cocktail of saliva and pre-cum dripped down her chin and over her bust as her choked gags filled the air. She was already lightheaded from the smell of them, although the lack of air made it even more difficult to think clearly. Driven upward by a particularly hard thrust from Uta, she tried and failed to maintain her balance.

“Fuck - Nnnph - her face after she’s laying on me,” Uta growled.

Intaba looked like he’d been about to protest, leering down at his friend, but relented and stepped back. Freeing his glistening cock, he stepped around and knelt over Uta’s head. An ordinary stallion would have been dismayed by having a friend’s nuts so close to his face, yet none of the glorious Zebricans cared about anything other than sating themselves with her.

Smacking her ass, Uta brought a hand to her lower back and wrenched her forward. “Get comfy. We’ll handle it from here…”

She wasn’t given no choice in the matter, falling onto her hands and knees on Uta while he continued railing her, and that was fine in her book. Picking up where she’d left off with Intaba, she balanced on one arm while stroking and sucking his cock. She’d nearly forgotten about Ike, figuring he’d gone to get a drink or to take care of something, although she quickly realized he hadn’t gone far.

The feeling of something blunt and incredibly girthy pressing to her already stuffed pucker was all the warning she had before Ikre plunged into her. Even with all her training and the countless times she’d debased herself or been railed into a coma by her trio of lovers, she wasn’t prepared. Although she’d only just cum, still riding the high of her ecstasy, she was wracked with a climax so intense that it shattered her sanity outright.

Her rapturous howl lasted no longer than the blink of an eye and was abruptly cut off. No sooner had she opened her maw to scream out than Intaba sheathed the entirety of his stallionhood in her face. What little strength she had left fled from her, her blood ran like wildfire, and any chance she’d ever have of retaining even a trace of her masculinity was obliterated outright.

Awash in a blissful sea, drowning in unimaginable ecstasy, she fully surrendered herself. She’d heard stories about this, of how mares and stallions alike would succumb to the wiles of Zebrican might, but she’d always dismissed it as gossip - that was no longer the case. Staving off oblivion by sheer willpower alone, she fantasized about what her future would hold.

On the slim chance that the trio would someday leave her to fend for herself, she could always take up a job at the local brothel or tavern as a callmare, yet that wasn’t a concern. No matter what they subjected her to, irrespective of the depraved depths she’d sink to, she’d do anything in her power to please them. They’d remade her, turned her into more of a sex-pet than a legitimate paramour, and she couldn’t be happier because of it…

Celestia

“Hmmhmm,” Celestia snickered as she turned and gazed at her reflection.

The thatch roof overhead, crude brickwork of the walls around her, and the earth beneath her bare feet were a far departure from the lavishes of the Canterlot castle, yet she enjoyed each and everyone of them. After spending countless centuries living in the lap of luxury, spending her days somewhere simple, far from the politics of conceited bureaucrats and haughty nobles, was just what she’d hoped for after her abdication - well, no, they were part of what she’d hoped for. As the corners of her lips turned up, she drew her hands down her shoulders, over her breasts, and past the soft, vulnerable flesh of her abdomen.

Gone were the days of raising the sun and sitting in a throne room, replaced by a simpler, vastly more rewarding life. Taking Twilight’s advice, she’d set out on a solitary expedition to Zebrica to learn of the people, their plight, and to offer her services in any way she could. She’d expected some fanfare, to be pampered like a royal or viewed with curiosity at the very least, yet the locals had done far more than welcome her with open arms.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, she’d been treated like a mare - not a Princess, not a demigod alicorn, but a mare. She’d been flattered when young stallions from the tribe waxed poetic about her beauty, singing her songs and practically worshiping the ground she walked on, and it hadn’t taken her long to sample what they had to offer - after all, given how Twilight had spoken so highly of the striped stallion’s erotic performance, she couldn’t help herself. She chuckled and shook her head, astonished that the mare in the mirror was actually her.

Her physique was the same as it had ever been, voluptuous to a fault resplendent in all her natural glory, although her beauty had been elevated by leaps and bounds by the natives. Thick, black stripes lined her snow-white fur, covering her from her brow to her feet, swirling and marking her as a claimed mare. Laughing at the thought, amused that anypony, regardless of their species, could subdue her, she pinched the bridge of her snout. The potions, alchemy, and primitive enchantments placed upon her were entertaining, meant to bend her will by magnifying her physical sensitivity, but her will was unyielding - that being said, they did make sex even more wonderful than it would have been ordinarily.

She’d freely admit that Zebrican stallions were a cut above the rest, what with their incredible endowments, alluring scent, and impeccable technique between the sheets, but to think that one of them render her a gibbering, enthralled mess was utterly absurd. Whereas other mares could be and often were beguiled by striped studs, she was not other mares. She was Celestia, Princess of the Dawn, and it was she who subjugated any and all who were bold enough to bed her.

“My Queen,” a familiar voice quietly rumbled, causing her to peek over her shoulder.

With his head bowed, Terara knelt just within her hut. There was nothing spectacular about the stallion, he held no particular rank or title within his tribe, although he’d been one of the lucky few to catch her eye. Taller, stronger, and far more humble than his kin, the colossal stud kept his eyes shut and awaited her response.

Turning her attention back to her reflection, she idly levitated her raiments from the simple nightstand resting by her bed. “Yes…?”

“I simply wished to greet you this fine morning, my Queen,” he muttered.

She paid him little mind as she continued dressing herself. While she’d become quite taken with adapting to the culture, wearing little if any clothing, she had become quite fond of the jewelry she’d been presented with. Save for a necklace, hoops hanging from her ears, and a pair of golden nipple rings, she was radiance made manifest. Such a look would have been scandalous to say the least in Equestria, especially when she’d bore a crown, but this wasn’t Equestria.

Shifting and strolling to the foot of her bed, she seated herself and peered down at Terara. She’d never been one for formalities, often telling her subjects that they needn’t refer to her as my Princess, yet being called Queen never failed to bring a smile to her face. Ever since she’d entered Zebrica, merely hoping to see the sights and broaden her horizons, the natives had viewed and idolized her as a maternal deity - doubly so after she’d dominated their fiercest studs and shrugged off their attempts to tame her.

“Was there anything else?” she urged as her eyes swept from his broad chest to the loincloth hanging over his nethers.

Remaining where he knelt, he glanced up at her with a single, emerald eye. “In truth, I wished to look upon your glory, my Queen.”

She smirked hearing the softly spoken word. “And why would you wish to do something like that…?”

“Because your glory, your radiance, is divinity given flesh,” he breathed, lifting his head to look upon her.

Her nipples grew erect, straining against the bar of metal through them, while her marehood clenched in anticipation. She hadn’t known it for millennia, never having given it the slightest bit of thought, but this was what she deserved. Swinging one arm back and reclining upon it, she spread her legs ever so slightly.

“Be honest, Terara,” she cooed, lowering a hand to stroke the plump, succulent mound of her marehood.

Unable to look away from her loins, he shifted in place. “I…I would never…”

“Never what?” she faintly pressed, slipping two fingers down to spread her lower lips.

She was already sopping wet, dampening the blanket upon which she sat, and she could tell that the view she was giving him, paired with her honeyed words, were having a profound effect. Lifting and shifting the strip of leather away from groin, his stallionhood swelled to life. Her list of carnal triumphs was beyond measure, including a whole host of differing species from across the land, although there were perilously few who could contend with Terara and a small number of his ilk. Shamelessly caressing her clit, she sighed.

“I long for you, my Queen,” he finally admitted, confessing what she already knew, “and I would do anything to serve you.”

“Then go,” she gently but firmly tutted. “Return with three - no, four of your most virile tribesponies and I’ll allow you to pleasure your Queen.”

He shot to his feet, slammed a fist to his chest, and scampered out without delay, allowing her to make herself comfortable. She really couldn’t blame him for his enthusiasm, considering he’d never encountered a mare like her before. Even compared to the largest, most fertile Zebrican females, she was in a league of her own.

Her tits were gargantuan by any standard, larger than most ponies’ heads, her hips were full and made for bearing foals, and her derriere, arguably her most bounteous asset, turned heads wherever she went - in short, she was the embodiment of a colt’s wet dream. Sliding back to the headboard of her bed, she made herself comfortable and fondled herself. She had no doubt Terara would waste no time in returning, but there was nothing wrong with indulging herself until then.

She softly moaned as she slipped two fingers into herself, savoring the feeling yet knowing it couldn’t compare to what was to come. Leaving Canterlot was the best thing she’d ever done for herself - not because she didn’t adore her subjects, but because it was high time she got some rest and relaxation. Wantonly getting herself off, twisting one nipple and sinking a third digit into her aching snatch, she closed her eyes and waited impatiently.

Her assumption about Terara making haste proved all too accurate as the young stallion returned with four companions. She cracked one eye and looked out at them while she continued pleasuring herself, assessing the small group like one who would appraise cuts of steak. Each of the stallions was smaller than her chosen stud, likely because they were the first he’d come across or possibly due to him wishing to show his superiority, although that was hardly a concern. Between the quintet, she felt certain that she’d be reasonably satisfied.

“Well, well, well,” she began as her heavily lidded eyes swept from one stallion’s face to the next, “quite the virile little gang we have here. Try not to disappoint me…”

The four nameless zebras descended upon her like a pack of wolves. Two of the studs moved to her sides and presented their equipment, a third was brazen enough to straddle her midsection and rest his cock between her breasts, and the fourth gingerly lifted and began kissing her foot. Each of them acted thoughtlessly, caving to their lecherous urges, and she found the display adorable. Setting herself to task, lest her admirers get the wrong impression, she unleashed a fraction of her carnal might.

She moved with purpose and centuries of practice, stroking one dick in each hand while driving her toes into the depraved stallion’s muzzle. Their ministrations were unrefined, lacking any grace or self-restraint whatsoever, although there was one amongst them that stood out. Feeling a hot breath wash over her sex, she grinned.

Terara was the only stallion in the village who placed her first, putting her pleasure above his own, and in so doing he’d won her favor. Planting her free foot against the mattress, she bucked her hips and anointed his face with her nectar. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had fun in the castle, sneaking off with a guard or two here or there, but this was what she truly craved.

Looking upward and at the stallion who’d boldly mounted her, keeping her eyes on his face, she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the tip of his length. She could tell he hadn’t bathed that morning, tasting his sweat and smelling the strong, heady musk radiating from his package, but that was hardly a bad thing. While most nobles would recoil at the thought of gratifying a commoner, much less a relatively uncivilized one, she preferred the vulgarity of unsophisticated natives.

Within seconds, pre-cum coated her tongue, palate, and palms, all while Terara feasted upon her loins. Their zeal was infectious, filling her with determination and causing the fires of her passion to burn as brightly as the sun. She doubted that any of them would last beyond the foreplay, although she had a plan to prevent just that.

Though she was a Princess of renown, regal and gracious when she’d held dominion over Equestria, she wasn’t without her amorous wiles. Simply put, she was a sexual machine, an indomitable goddess, and she had more experience than the combined total of her group of lovers. Expertly jacking two off while nursing the third’s stallionhood, she took keen note of their breathing, the way their cocks pulsed, and the pace with which they moved.

The psychological bliss of controlling them, of having them wrapped around her fingers, eclipsed the physical pleasure they delivered - sure, being toyed with by the quintet felt amazing, but it paled in comparison to the mental aspect of having them under her thumb. If she asked them to jump, they’d do so without question - should she tell them to stop, they wouldn’t hesitate to halt what they were doing. Though they weren’t her subjects, her sway over them was absolute and intoxicating.

Whenever one of the studs would get a bit too fervent, she’d relent and shift her focus to another. It was a delicate dance, edging three paramours at once, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle with ease. Biding her time and relishing her efforts without getting anywhere close to finishing herself, she halted entirely once each of them, save Terara, on the ropes.

“Colts,” she demurely announced, having cleared her muzzle with a soft Pop, “line up and present yourselves for me…”

The group only wavered for a moment, clearly wishing to continue but not willing to disobey. Dejectedly stepping away and to one side of the bed, they squared their shoulders, held their arms to their sides, and stood tall. Now that the opening act was finished, it was time to move on to the main event.

Leveling a finger at the smallest of the five, she flashed her teeth. “You…”

Upon calling him out, she splayed her legs and nodded. The request went unspoken, but he obliged her all the same. Rushing between her parted thighs, acting like little more than an animal, he plunged into her and started thrusting with reckless abandon. She would have pitied him, realizing he couldn’t even kiss her womb with his endowment, had it not been for one thing - the look on his face was one of unremitted bliss.

She noisily groaned as she locked her legs around him, aiding his efforts and giving each of his plunges a bit of extra force. His stallionhood was impressive by pony standards, yet it was only barely enough to scratch her lustful itch. Milking his wildly pistoning shaft, she pawed at her tits and shamelessly made a spectacle of herself.

She would outlast him, of that she was certain, so she did the only reasonable thing she could do - she saw how quickly she could make him cum. Sex, as with a great many things in life, was a mixture of many elements; a combination of theatrics and skill, the art of making love, no matter how barbaric, took years to master, and she was an expert. Howling out, she feigned a climax.

The faux orgasm worked to stunning effect, destroying the young stallion’s composure almost instantaneously. Without slowing in the slightest, he threw himself atop her, whimpered like a foal, and bathed her depths with his seed. The warmth of his essence coating her interior was exquisite, but it was seeing and hearing his ecstasy that pushed her closer to her limit.

“Good colt,” she whispered, running her fingers through his mohawk.

He wearily smiled, backed away, and unsheathed his softening cock from her marehood. Though he was free to leave, carrying about with his morning however he saw fit, she hoped he’d stay for a second round once he’d recuperated. She rolled over and cleared some room on the bed, the remaining four stallions shifted nervously.

Extending two fingers, she pointed to two of the studs. “You two…”

She patted the mattress where she’d just been laying, prompting one of the stallions to lay down. As soon as the stud had eased himself onto the bed, pushed herself up, swung a leg over him, and smoothly impaled herself on his pillar-like tool in a reverse cowgirl position. Slightly thicker than her first partner of the morning, he stretched her just enough to send a thrilled shiver up her spine.

“Now you,” she murmured to the second stallion, “come here and swab your Queen’s throat.”

Bucking herself on the supine stud as though he were a sex-toy, she opened her mouth as the other zebra stepped onto the bed before her. Riding somepony was always a pleasant experience, but it was made all the more intense when she was starved of air. She relaxed her throat as the duo started to move, making use of her gullet and succulent pussy respectively.

Her eyes watered slightly and her marehood quivered as she gradually approached the edge. Just as fervent as the first stallion, the pair she’d chosen lacked discipline. Plowing her face and marehood without a shred of concern for her well-being. Had she not known what to expect, that the two would fuck her like a common whore, she may have felt slighted - fortunately for her, she knew just what she was in for.

As her lungs heaved and fought to take a breath, she toed the threshold of release. It took a lot to get her off, more than most could ever muster, although the twosome’s fervor proved sufficient. She choked and sputtered around the stallionhood in her throat as she was overcome with ecstasy.

The climax wasn’t the strongest she’d ever had, but it served its purpose as an appetizer of sorts. With her fleshly appetite whetted, she gyrated her hips and baptized the stallion beneath her in marish juices. She almost felt bad for them, realizing that the duo may live the rest of their lives pining for her, yet the thought of them pining for her for years to come made her bliss rebound and sent her flying headlong to another orgasm.

Lasting longer than she’d anticipated and causing her to cum another three times, the pair eventually brayed in near tandem when they peaked. Their wails and grunts were like music to her ears, making her heart flutter and cum-starved womb ache. She couldn’t get pregnant unless she willed it, having safeguard enchantments in place at any given time, yet the notion of getting knocked up was more than enough to keep her going.

With only two stallions left to tend to, she found herself at an impasse. She would have liked to fully commit herself to Terara, especially because he’d shown an exorbitant amount of patience by standing there and watching her be taken by three of his tribesponies, although she couldn’t deny the last stud. As she dismounted from the stud she’d been riding, and with the second withdrawing from her gullet, she was stricken with divine inspiration.

“Terara,” she intoned.

Stepping forward, he gave a small bow. “Yes, my Queen.”

“Would you be opposed to sharing?” she inquired, sensing a cocktail of jizz seeping from her pussy.

Terara shook his head and met her eyes. “Of course not, my Queen.”

“Good,” she snickered. “Lay down.”

Doing as she’d instructed, he switched places with the stallion she’d just had her way with. Being on top was fun, and Terara was one of the perilously few well-endowed enough to satiate her, although it was time to mix things up a bit. Climbing onto him and lowering her waist, entombing his magnificent length in her slickened confines, she glanced to the stallion who’d yet to see any action.

“Fill me,” she commanded.

She leaned forward while throwing her arms back and buried Terara’s face in her bust as she prized her buns apart. Darned if she could say why she hadn’t thought of it sooner, but getting double-stuffed would be the perfect way to test her limits. The last stallion clutched the base of his shaft, stepped forward, and rested his free hand on her tush.

Nodding back at him, she gnawed her lip as he touched his cock-head to her entrance. “Do it…”

Her eyes rolled and her heart skipped a beat as a second massive stallionhood was forced into her. The feeling was incredible, exactly what she’d been wanting - needing, and she nearly climaxed from the penetration alone. Twisting her shoulders and grinding one nipple against Terara’s snout, she gnawed her lower lip and steeled herself.

The position didn’t allow her much freedom of movement, yet the pair were more than happy to give her what she desired. Sawing their lengths into her, Terara and his friend somehow managed to curb their enthusiasm. Whether it was from fate, serendipity, or some combination of the two, the combined efforts of the duo did the unthinkable - they actually threatened to break her.

Ropes of saliva crept down and hung from her chin, her marehood convulsed, and a deep, guttural moan of rapture escaped her. She came within mere moments, caving to the onslaught like some lucky filly on prom night, and her self-control waned because of it. Normally speaking, she could have weathered virtually anything - for buck’s sake, she’d bedded dragons and casually walked away, yet the two-pronged attack caused her mind to fracture.

The beast that was her lust slipped from its collar, eclipsing her higher functions and stripping away the Princess she once was. Turning her head to one side and spotting two of the three stallions idly spectating, she sent power surging into her horn. She may have just suffered through a phenomenal climax, but she wasn’t done yet - not by a long shot.

She sorcerously pulled one stud onto the bed, forcing him onto his knees while guiding his stallionhood into her maw, while she hovered the second to her other side. Some part of her, a rational sliver that had survived, was completely aware that she could service more than just two creatures at the same time. Bobbing her head and lavishing one of the zebras with her tongue, tasting her nectar and his drying spunk, she gripped and squeezed the other’s length with her left hand.

Each of the stallions gave her their all, understanding that she wouldn’t be demanded everything they had to offer. Sensing something gingerly grab her wrist, she peeked over as the fifth stallion guided her other hand to his groin. Managing four stallions was a bit like a juggling act, even if they were doing the lion’s share of the work, although she wasn’t against the inclusion of another’s involvement.

She could only imagine how obscene the scene must have looked. There she was, a regal alicorn being used by a quintet of tribal Zebricans who were vastly younger than her, and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If her former subjects or, heavens forbid, her sister could see her now, she’d be ruined, her reputation tarnished beyond repair, yet the notion of being found out only served to amplify her bliss.

Twilight had taken a Zebrican stud for herself, as had Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor if the rumors were to be believed, but she wasn’t like them. While many would be happy with a single lover, she would only be content with a cadre, a harem of the most virile stallions she could accrue, and the idea seared itself into her very being. Why settle with one paramour when she could have a herd to serve her every whim.

The thought of collecting stallions from across the land drove her to yet another climax, the strongest one yet, and it took a heavy toll. Her grip weakened, her magic sputtered fitfully, and mind gradually went blank. She had nothing to fear from any lasting repercussions, although the temporary impact of raw, unfettered ecstasy was nirvanic.

She moved in a trance, using her snout and hands to handle three of her mates while losing all track of time. She came more times than she dared to count, losing track after the eleventh or twelfth, and only came to when something hot spattered over her shoulder. Shaken from her reverie, her unfocused eyes swept over to the seed being painted over her side.

One down. There were still four studs left to go, but knowing they’d fall like dominoes bolstered her resolve and gave her the strength to persevere. Predatory and insatiable, she ravenously sucked on the stallionhood screwing her muzzle. The moment she sensed him flaring in her throat, she pulled back and clutched his throbbing shaft.

Getting a second load of cum pumped into her stomach was all well and good, but she wanted to bask in the vulgarity of the moment. Closing her eyes and jacking him off, she painted her mane, face, and open mouth with rich, thick Zebrican essence. The taste was, as always, splendid, but she couldn’t dwell on it for too long. Swallowing down the spunk that had landed in her mouth, she threw her weight back against the pair plowing her.

Terara lasted longer than his counterpart, holding her hips and rutting her like the gorgeous bastard that he was while the second stallion withdrew and hauled his cock from her confines. Glazed and filled with a considerable amount of spunk, she screamed in delight. It wouldn’t be long until the stud - her stud gave her one heck of a creampie, and she couldn’t wait to feel his seed marinating in her depths.

Bringing his hands to her shoulders, Terara planted one foot on the bed and kicked off. She yelped in shock, stunned by his strength as he rolled her onto her back while staying hilted. Peering up and locking eyes with him, she smirked. If he’d been anypony else, she would have stopped him, throwing him off with a blast of magic, but she found his passion endearing.

“Mine,” he growled, shooting forward and biting her collar.

She squealed and climaxed beneath him as she snared him in a leg lock. It was cute that he thought he could make such a claim, although the orgasm that she had because of him was well worth his impertinence. Trapping him to herself, ensuring the tip of his length smashed against her cervix with each of his thrusts, she draped her head over his shoulder.

When he came, flooding her womb with his foal-batter, she was wracked with bliss. She hated to admit it, but maybe Twilight was right - maybe her future really did lay in Zebrica. Looking past his heaving back and twitching hips, she spied a number of faces assembled just outside her hut. Either she’d been louder than she thought or the villagers had wanted a show - in either case, there were several young stallions watching her.

Smiling at her onlookers, she extended a leg and wiggled a toe. She had planned on getting some breakfast after the little gang-bang, but that could wait for just a bit longer. There were other studs to tend to before packed her things and wandered off to the next village with Terara, whether he knew he’d be coming with her or not, and she saw no harm in leaving a few more despoiled zebras in her wake…

Sombra

The blindfold made it impossible for him to see, the negation ring over his horn stripped him of his magic, and the drool ball lodged in his muzzle and lashed around the back of his head caused ropes of saliva to dangle from his chin, yet he made no attempt to remove them or cover his bare body. He’d learned quite quickly that insubordination was swiftly and quite harshly punished, while compliance and subservience may be rewarded. As he shifted in place, seated on the cool, polished marble beneath him, his ears swung toward the noise of an opening door.

“There he is,” a silken, feminine voice cooed. “Have you been a good colt?”

Sombra turned to the sound of approaching footsteps and gave a subtle nod. “Mmmph.”

With a heavy sigh, the unseen figure came to a halt nearby. “Such a messy little thing, but I suppose there’s no helping that,” she laughed as an ominous, metallic click came from beneath his chin. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Pausing for just a moment, trying and failing to keep blood from surging to his loins, he grunted. “Mmmph.”

“Such a good colt, so obedient and handsome,” she sighed, drawing a finger up his chin to lift his face. “Come now, dearest.”

While her words were honeyed and sweet, he knew the venom concealed within them. She acted like he had a choice, she pretended like she cared about him, yet he was nothing but a plaything to her. Feeling a tug on the thick, leather collar around his neck, he blindly turned and crawled on all fours after her. As he gradually moved along, navigating the room and corridor beyond from memory, his mind drifted.

He was King Sombra, conqueror and bane of the Crystal Empire, and his infamy was known throughout Equestria and beyond. Regardless of what the histories said about him, he’d never truly been defeated - delayed or hampered by pesky heroes, yes, although not even death itself could stop him. Thinking back to his most recent brush with oblivion, after battling with the Elements of Harmony in his castle, his mood darkened.

In a word, he was inevitable. His arcane might and sheer force of will spat in the face of all odds, bringing him back to the land of the living time and time again, and he would persist until he’d reclaimed his homelands and his throne - at least that had always been his plan. Every incarnation was the same, reviving in a crystal grotto or in the wastelands after his being had coalesced and manifested into his corporeal form, yet his most recent reappearance had been highly irregular.

“Sit,” she quietly demanded.

Stopping without hesitation, he eased himself down.

A pleased snort veiled what he envisioned was a condescending smirk. “Beg…”

He straightened up and held his arms before his chest, presenting himself like a well-trained canine. “Mmmph.”

“Louder…” she demanded, her tone taking on a hardened edge.

“Mmmph,” he grunted, louder this time. The warmth of spittle slipping around and through the porous ball in his muzzle dripped over his chest and sailed through the air, but it gave it little thought. “Mmmmph!”

Her laugh grew louder as a set of slender, delicate digits glided over his temples and to the back of his head. With the slightest tug that undid the knot securing his blindfold, the piece of leather fell away from his face. He opened his eyes slowly and allowed them to adjust to the relatively dim light around him as he peered up at her.

With a willowy frame and gaunt features, appearing almost infirm and unwell, she smiled down upon him. Her name was Sahira, meaning something akin to witch in her native Zebrican tongue, and she was not as helpless as she appeared. From the moment he’d first laid eyes upon her, awakening on the sandy earth in some unfamiliar hut, he’d presumed she was a fool and a weakling - little had he known the true power she wielded.

“Awwwww,” she sighed, leaning in and caressing his cheek. “Is my special somepony ill-tempered?”

He held her gaze and nodded. Her eyes, like those of a goat’s and the color of amber, bored into him while she unfastened his gag. Drawing in her breath, he remained motionless and let the ball fall from his snout to the floor. She was as different from him as the night was from the day, although the few similarities they shared were staggering.

She stepped away from him and motioned with a hand. “Up.”

And so he stood, rising to his full height while keeping his arms to his sides. He towered over her, with the top of her head only barely reaching the bottom of his pecs, and one of his biceps was larger than either of her thighs. For all intents and purposes, even without the use of his magic, he should have been able to dispatch her with ease, yet any desire to do her harm, in spite of the ignominy he’d endured because of her, was nonexistent.

“Good colt,” she whispered as she turned her back to him.

Though she gave him an opening, giving him little regard as she trotted away, made no move to attack her. His eyes wandered up her legs, over her tush, and up to the thick, tight dreadlocks hanging over her back. She, much like himself, was bereft of any clothing whatsoever, yet she’d chosen her state of undress.

Easing herself into her throne, she beckoned to him. “Come…”

His plodding footfalls echoed throughout the cavernous chamber as he crossed to her. He’d made this place for her, using his sorcery to carve it and the rest of her stronghold into the depths of a glacier, and his enchantments were the only things keeping out the deathly cold. Coming to a halt before her dias, he went to kneel and stopped when she reached out and clasped his wrist.

“Not yet,” she hissed. “Stand here…”

He stepped up and peered down at her as she turned her attention down to his loins. By any reasonable metric, she was a small mare, practically a pygmy by Zebrican standards, and the sight of her contrasted to his monstrous endowment made her appear even more svelte than she already was. Diminutive stature, unnatural gaze, and svelte build aside, there was one other feature she had that made her stand out from her kin.

Plastered over her face and upper muzzle was a black marking that uncannily resembled a skull. He knew that equines of all kinds could have birthmarks or patches of discolored fur, yet his instincts and knowledge of the arcane told him that there was deeper meaning behind her appearance. Who or what she’d struck a bargain with in her homeland was a mystery, and there was an all too real chance that she’d never reveal the true origin of her dark magic.

With a smirk spitting her muzzle, she cocked her head and walked two fingers up his semi-rigid length. “You’re the only pony I’ve ever found worthy to take for myself ~ did you know that?”

“Yes,” he breathed, keeping his eyes on her face.

She leaned in and touched her nose to the root of his stallionhood, deeply inhaled, and shivered. “So robust and virile. I’d hoped you’d put up more of a fight when I summoned you - then again, you are only a pony...”

The assertion breathed life into the moldering embers of his contempt. He’d thought she was joking when she said that she would best him, that he would become her servant and champion, but she put him in his place with ease. All his strength, both physical and otherworldly, had been nothing compared to the abilities she’d harnessed in her homeland.

He’d expected to be banished after she’d vanquished him, although he’d managed to impress her - so much so that she’d made good on her promise. In a way, he wished she had slayed and cast him back to the shadows. The disgrace of being effectively reduced to a pet, stripped of his crown and forced to accompany her while wearing nothing more than a collar, the humiliation of being treated so disgracefully was almost enough to break him - almost.

Slipping a hand behind his pendulous shaft, she fondled one of his balls in one hand. “Nothing to say…?”

With his lip quivering and threatening to curl, he slowly exhaled. “No, mistress.”

“Good,” she clucked, reclining and swinging one leg over the arm of her chair. “Eat…”

His eyes shot down the valley of her modest bosoms, over her abs, and to her nethers. The dark, hairless mound of her marehood glistened invitingly, setting his mouth to water and heart to race. She may have subdued him, besting him in combat and reminding him of who held his leash on a regular basis, but his position did come with a number of benefits.

He fell to one knee and gazed up at her. Her bouquet was like no other, as wild and untamed as the lush jungles of Zebrica, and it alone held no small amount of sway over him. Mutely pondering if her scent was enchanted in some way, he drew his tongue up her inner thigh and to her sex. The flavors of sweat mingled with her arousal on his taste buds as he indulged her.

With a shuddering sigh, she shifted her leg and locked her knee behind his head. “So much more refined than those boorish hulks of which I’m acquainted.”

He paused as her entrance winked around his tongue. Listening to her belittle him, particularly after their periodic sparring matches or the few times she’d tried to escape, was all too common, but there’d been a sincerity in her admission. Willing himself not to be baited and press her on the matter, he languidly feasted on her loins.

“Not that I’d expect you to understand, but you ponies, shortcomings notwithstanding, do have a certain charm,” she continued, flicking the tip of his horn with a finger. “The great and terrible King Sombra, Umbrum of the Northlands - as soon as I heard tales of your exploits, I simply had to see if the stories were true.”

There were times when a reply was warranted, irrespective of the amorous circumstances, and this was one such time. Pulling back ever so slightly, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. “I’m honored, mistress.”

She guffawed and kicked her heel to his back. “No - no you’re not, but your humility amuses me all the same.”

Bearing his fangs and feeling the ring seated on his horn flaring white hot, he leered up at her. There were exceptionally few creatures who walked the earth who could claim they knew him, yet she was one of them. She saw through his feigned modesty and platitudes to the respect she’d rightly earned.

“Did I tell you to stop?” she hissed as her eyes blazed with spectral, harlequin fire.

He begrudgingly shot forward and rested his canines on the tender skin to either side of her marehood as he picked up where he’d left off. To evoke her ire would only make his situation worse. Though he was loath to admit it, she was as or possibly even more creative than he was in regards to tormenting those who angered her.

One corner of her lips curled upward and revealed her filed, sharpened teeth. “You hate me ~ don’t you?”

Growling into her cunt, he knitted his brow and plunged his tongue into her depths. He detested her, wishing for nothing more than to humble or slaughter her for her insolence, although there was a piece of him that admired her. She wasn’t an alicorn demigod, nor did she hold an ancient artifact of incalculable power - she was, or at one point had been, nothing more than an ordinary mare.

As much as he abhorred her, she shared several similarities with him. She’d sought and attained power her kin feared, she was an outcast, and she was just as, if not more wicked than himself. If things had been different, had they crossed paths under different conditions, she could have - would have made for an exemplary vassal - alas, fate had a sense of irony.

“Right there,” she murmured, grasping his horn and angling his snout to her clit.

With his enmity and disdain warring with his mounting lust and veneration for her, he extended his arms and slid his hands up to her chest. Groping her in such a way was brazen and impertinent, yet she didn’t try to stop him. As he pinched and twisted her nipples, she rolled her head back and moaned.

There’d been occasions when his impudence struck a chord, though she often enjoyed when he was upset. His impotent rage excited her, thrilling her in a sadistic way, and she’d freely confessed that she found him more entertaining than her ilk. Emboldened, he went to bite down, if only to show her he wasn’t to be trifled with, and discovered he wouldn’t move.

A rictus grin played over her muzzle as she locked eyes with him. “Ah ah -” she coolly tutted, waving a finger that left ghostly afterimages in its wake. “You bite when I allow you to bite ~ is that clear?”

“I…guh,” he snarled, drooling and quaking as his muscles refused to obey him.

With a strength that defied her lean physique, she wrenched his head upward. He struggled to breath, much less move, though the inability to control himself was only one facet of the dread which gripped him. Under her oppressive gaze, fear - true, primal fear mingled with his carnality. Though sheer determination alone, he glared at her unbridled animosity.

Bending forward at the waist, she brought herself face to face with him. “There it is,” she muttered. “You may think I’m doing this for fun, and in part I am, but I don’t detest you, Sombra - on the contrary, I’m doing this because I adore you.”

“W…what,” he rumbled, raging against her preternatural influence.

One of the most infuriating things about her was that he had yet to determine how her talents worked. He was aware that she had some unholy power of suggestion, bending the will of those she spoke to, but there was far more to it than that. As he railed against his unseen bonds, she kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’m making you what you’re meant to be,” she purred. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier to submit? To put it another way, would you rather remain under my heel for the rest of eternity or voluntarily serve as my right-hand and lover?”

The spell disappeared as quickly as it had been evoked. He caught himself before he fell against her, if only just, and shook his head. This was a feint - it had to be. Shirking off the temptation to strike her, he pushed himself up.

“Well?” she softly urged.

He wanted to kill her, to put this whole inglorious chapter of his life behind him and leave her carcass to be immortalized in the ice of the snowy badlands, though there was a note of truth in her words. Had somepony told him he’d ever bend the knee to anypony, much less a Zebrican mare, he would have laughed - nevertheless, were he to dedicate himself to another, it would be her.

“I do hate you,” he hissed.

She cradled his head in both hands as she crept closer. “And…?”

He could have waxed poetic about how she’d rue the day for crossing him, written sonnets in her blood of her transgressions against him, or crafted symphonies from her pained cries, yet his indignation was obscured by something else. The mere notion that he cared for her sickened him to his core, though there was no other way to explain it - he wanted her. He’d known love in the past, long before he reigned as a King, but this wasn’t that - this was something altogether different.

While it was possible that his mind had been altered, teased apart and changed in some existential way, that ultimately made little difference. He was virtually powerless against her, having been laid low by her a number of times, and a part of him was enamored by how weak he was compared to her. Her callous subjugation was vexing to say the least, although held a novel appeal that shone through his rancor.

Closing the gap between them, he locked lips and fiercely made out with her. He would never give voice to his thoughts, though he couldn’t endure it any longer. His tongue sank into her muzzle as her hands snaked under his arms and to his back. She was a loathsome creature, of that there was no question, but he, for the time being, belonged to her.

Rearing back, she licked her lips. “Should we take this to the bedchamber, dearest?”

With her legs coiling around his waist, he grabbed her shoulder and slammed her back against the throne. The choice he’d been given, be it illusory or not, did not go unanswered. Bringing his free hand between them, he clutched his stallionhood and touched it to her entrance.

She bucked her hips and slathered the tip of his length with her essence while snickering menacingly. “They told me ponies were supposed to be civil - Aaaaaaghn!”

Her guttural cry was like music to his ears, stimulating him on a fundamental level as he drove his cock into her. Glancing down and watching inch after inch of his length disappear into her balmy, taut depths, he marveled at the disparity of their sizes. Any normal mare would have been hard pressed to accommodate a stallion of his size, but she was far from an ordinary mare.

Caressing a noticeable bulge working its way up her abdomen, she traced a finger over the imprint of his endowment. “What would you give to breed me - to make me some broken sow of a broodmare chained to your throne?”

The thought sent him into a frenzy, invigorating him and playing to his darkest desires. Had he been victorious over her, he would have enslaved her and used her as a convenient outlet for his sexual urges, if for no other reason than to put her in her rightful place. Dwelling on a future that hadn’t come to pass, he withdrew a fraction of his shaft, braced his legs, and set to rutting her.

While he’d bedded many mares in his day, she was in a league of her own. Not only was she incredibly tight, practically milking him dry without even trying to do so, but her masochism was stirring to a fault. She couldn’t have endured the monumental intrusion without no small amount of discomfort - on top of that, having her insides stretched to their limit wasn’t the only hallmark of her depravity.

Wrapping a fistful of her dreadlocks around his hand, he hauled her head back and earned himself a delighted howl for his efforts. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t succumb to his savage instincts, but his sense of reason was outstripped by his impulses and the glaring reality that he had no other option. She longed to be ravaged just as badly as he yearned to ruin her, so he gave them both what they so dearly wished for.

Her nails sank into his back, digging through his fur and piercing his skin, while his hold on her shoulder tightened. Had he not known better, he would have assumed she was in agony. The way she shrieked and writhed, her toes curling and eyes rolling wildly, was like that of a beast possessed as his stallionhood battered against her womb.

Tensing and spasming around him, she rewarded his efforts with a climax. Sweltering nectar bathed his pistoning groin and upper thighs, seeping into his fur and dampening his skin, but he didn’t slow - if anything, her orgasm only spurred him to plow her even harder. While she’d somehow avoided being knocked up by their many beddings, his perseverance would see him carry his foal.

The drumbeat of his balls smacking against her backside grew more intense, vying for supremacy against his grunts and her mewling. She was a mare, a creature lesser to himself, and he would dominate her - maybe not this day or the next, but it would come in time. Draping himself over her, he breathed hotly on her ear before sinking his fangs into her collar.

She screamed and convulsed beneath him, wracked with the ecstasy of another climax. Perhaps he’d been wrong about her and himself. Altering the angle of his thrusts to grind his medial ring against her g-spot, he unleashed his full sexual potential against her. It would only be a matter of time until she caved to her marish wiles, pledging herself and her doubtlessly fertile womb to him.

He gave her no quarter, making her cum over and over again before he approached his limit - even then, after delivering untold ecstasy to her, his release was carried by the prospect of all the things he was going to do with her. Leashing her to his throne would be obvious, keeping her gravid body bare for any and all to see, although that would only be the start of her degradation. In the end, no matter what embarrassments he put her through, she would be a pale shadow of the proud wretch that had attempted to claim him.

Just as he started to flare, her eyes shot wide. Her blissful expression was gone in an instant and replaced by the same stony countenance he’d grown so used to. Placing a hand on his chest and sliding her legs from his back, she touched her heels on the throne’s base and kicked off.

The world spun and his head cracked on the floor as he was thrown onto his back, but he wasn’t alone. Landing atop him, having somehow managed to remain impaled on his length, she flipped the dreadlocks away from her face and smiled down upon him. She would have been beautiful, had she not been a paragon of cruelty.

“This,” she began, fucking herself on him while guiding his hand to her belly, “is mine and mine alone.”

He tried to speak, yet all he could manage was a dull groan. Once again, she’d put him under her spell, rendering him a puppet and little else. He wanted to be angry, to turn the tables on her and make his fantasy an actuality, but the pleasure coursing through him was too great. Unable to move, he watched her recline and rub her clit while she rode him.

The physical sensations were unparalleled, better than any mare he’d ever been with, and the disgrace she put him through somehow magnified him. It was a taste of heaven and hell, bittersweet in the purest sense of the word, and it chipped away at his sanity. As she peeked back and nodded, he lifted his legs and planted his feet.

“Much - Mmmn - better,” she sighed, using his thighs as a backrest. Meeting his gaze with her heavily-lidded eyes, she grinned. “Who do you belong to?”

He would have liked to say the question was idiotic, considering he couldn’t speak, but then he realized how wrong he’d been. While he couldn’t budge anything from his neck downward, he’d regained full control of his body above the shoulders. Being overpowered didn’t concern him, nor did being given the ability and only the ability to speak bother him - no, the terror that welled up within him came from the stunning realization of the answer she sought.

Increasing her pace, she gyrated on his stallionhood. “Don’t be so shy…”

“You,” he wheezed. “I belong to you!”

The admission, simply hearing himself earnestly profess what he’d refused to believe for months on end, was his undoing. As insane as it may have sounded, he came harder than he ever had throughout his life. His stallionhood pulsed in tune with his thundering heart, sending wave after wave of his essence up his shaft and into her depths as he teetered on the brink of insanity.

What should have been his triumphant roar was a pitiable whimper that was outshone by her raucous, fanatical laughter. She’d tamed him, but it wasn’t until that moment that he fully grasped that immutable fact. Heaving air into his chest, he wearily lifted his head as she laid against him and stroked his side.

“Was that so hard?” she breathed. Getting no response, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Embrace it or not, you’ll be mine soon enough…”

He remained still and stared up at the ceiling far overhead. She was right, he knew it in his heart of hearts, and it both terrified and elated him. If he did give up, his life would be much easier and arguably more pleasant - if he continued to oppose her, his surrender would still be inevitable. Lifting a hand and placing it on her ass before comprehending he could move, he mirthlessly chuckled. As he savored the warmth she afforded, he recalled something he’d told one of his past slaves - it’s best not to resist…

Chrysalis

“F…fuck,” Chrysalis groaned as the peak of her climax began to subside.

Peering down her chest, through the valley of her gargantuan, swaying bosoms and past the taut flesh of her massively distended belly, she marveled at the giant rutting her. His name, where he was from, and if this was the first time he’d paid her a visit were mysteries, but she couldn’t have cared less about any of that. So long as he gave her a thick, virile load, he was free to leave without saying a word.

Bending her knees and withdrawing her legs from his lower back, she ran a foot up his broad, muscular chest. “Such a stud. I - Nnnnnm - I s…should hope you’ll vie for my womb once it’s free…”

She wasn’t above giving sinful promises or waxing poetic about her partners looks, endowments, sexual skill, or any combination of the three, though her confession about wanting to carry his foals wasn’t feigned. While pony stallions may have needed a bit of encouragement to deliver their full amorous potential with her, the same couldn’t be said for their striped cousins. As the zebra snatched her ankles and pushed her legs up to either side of her head, heedless or uncaring of her gravid state, a blissful squeal escaped her.

Draping himself over her stomach, he shifted to one side and locked his lips around her left nipple. The sensation of being nursed on caused her bliss to rebound and sent her skyrocketing towards another orgasm. She never would have thought she’d willingly submit herself to anypony, yet she’d done so for more striped studs than she dared to count.

She writhed beneath him and weakly bucked up to meet his thrusts as he gulped down mouthful after mouthful of her milk. “Yes - stars above, yes!!!”

Ravaged like she was some nymphomaniacal whore, she screamed out in ecstasy when she came. Steaming nectar gushed from around the stallion’s pistoning length, baptizing his lower half and the floor beneath him in her essence as her shrill wail rang in her ears. With her eyelids fluttering and battered marehood winking, she gazed down at him.

Lifting his head and detaching from her tit, he rested his chin on her shoulder and screwed his eyes shut. The expression he bore, coupled with his frantic thrusts and the feeling of his flaring cock pounding against her cervix told her that he was struggling to hold himself back, though she couldn’t fathom why. As she studied his face and wondered how long he’d be able to endure, he peeked over at her.

“M…mama,” he wheezed.

Mama - he’d just called her Mama. The title wasn’t anything that unusual - after all, there were innumerable mothers that lived in and beyond Equestria, yet it held a special power with her. Every muscle in her body tensed, her mind went blank, and she was hit with another climax before the last had even begun to subside, casting her into an oblivion of raw, primordial pleasure.

In spite of her braying and gushing cunt, or perhaps because of them, he somehow managed to restrain himself for what felt like a small eternity. His exotic scent, the taste of his sweat and pre-cum on her forked tongue, how he grunted in tune with his pounding hips, the sight of his powerful back - in every conceivable way, he dominated her senses. As she reeled from his lecherous assault, grasping at nothing while he toed the threshold, her sanity slipped away.

“F…fill me,” she screamed, clinging to the shred of control she retained.

She couldn’t say if her demand had simply been well-timed or was the straw that broke the camel’s back - whatever the case may be, he granted her wish. Fully hilting himself and tightening his grip on her legs, ensuring she couldn’t escape, he growled and set his jaw as what had to be a pint of spunk surged through his pulsing length.

There was something enthralling about having a stallion claim you and seek to sire an heir as they fill you completely with your seed, but being claimed by a zebra was an experience in and of itself. The size, strength, and vigor of Zebricans was beyond compare, to the point where even the youngest and least experienced could outperform any mere pony, but most mares couldn’t fully appreciate it. For her, as a changeling matriarch and quite possibly the last of her kind, the raw desire striped studs radiated was nothing short of decadent.

Carefully slipping her legs beneath his arms after he released her, she delicately caressed his back. The physical bliss he’d delivered, while absolutely phenomenal, was surpassed by the sense of joy his love provided. Like a fine vintage of wine, his natural instinct to breed, to sow his seed with a supremely fertile mare like herself, sustained her on a fundamental level. Basking in the ethereal energies radiating off him, she contentedly sighed.

He steadily pushed himself up and stepped away, hauling his softening stallionhood free as he went. It would have been nice if he’d stayed a bit longer, if only to bask in the afterglow and recover for a bit, but she was in no position to complain. Though she clenched around his retreating shaft, milking every precious drop of spunk from him, he eventually pulled clear of her slickened confines with a soft pop.

“Here,” he grunted, plodding around to her side and slapping his cum-slathered stallionhood against her face. “Lick it clean, bitch.”

There’d been a time when she would have crushed him for such insolence, beating him to a pulp while reminding him of how inferior he was to a regal creature like herself, yet she made no move to berate him. Opening her maw and coiling her serpent-like tongue around him, she slid over and made out with his bloated cock-head. In a sad, funny sort of way, her greatest strength had turned into her greatest weakness.

It was a well-known fact that unreformed changelings fed off other species, draining them of their life force for nourishment - what most ponies didn’t realize was that not all creatures were created equal in such regards. Having always been an opportunistic predator, feasting on anypony unlucky enough to catch her eye within the boundaries of Equestria, she’d never dined upon a Zebrican until a few months prior. She’d expected the big, striped stud to make for a fine meal, but she could never have anticipated how much the experience would change her life.

To say that bedding her first zebra stallion had been fun would be an understatement of unimaginable proportions. What began as a novel tryst, little more than an exotic fling, turned into a habit, then a full-blown obsession. Before she knew it, any desire to lure ponies had diminished in its entirety.

She was wholly indifferent to Equestria’s politics, having no interest whatsoever in their foreign affairs, but she’d be damned if the influx of Zebrican refugees hadn’t been the best thing to ever happen - still, it had come with a catch. While food was plentiful, she was still a wanted mare and marked as a criminal. Shaken from her thoughts when he sank his semi-rigid shaft down her gullet, she gagged and glared up at him.

“You’re taking too fucking long,” he rumbled, fucking her throat without any regard for her. “I gotta get back to work, so hurry the fuck up.”

Biting back her irritation, she mopped his length with her lips and tongue. He had no right to treat her with such disrespect, but there was no point in arguing with him. She’d gotten her meal, he’d gotten a bit of stress relief, and everypony was going to walk away gratified in one way or another.

His utterance of Mama had to have been a subconscious one, because the look on his face was anything but affectionate. Relenting with his thrusts and allowing her to service him, he indifferently buttoned his shirt and brushed a hand through his mohawk. She was just a toy for him, a convenient means for him to blow off some steam, and he likely didn’t give a damn about what she thought of him, but she’d be willing to bet he’d come knocking at her door again before too long.

She finished up quickly, going so far as to lick his groin and upper thighs clean of her marish juices before he donned his pants and saw himself out. As she peered up at the ceiling and caught her breath, feeling cum dribble from her aching, abused pussy down the cleft of her ass and over her pucker, a weary smile split her features. It wasn’t even lunch time, only mid-morning, and she was certain the day was only going to get busier as the hours passed.

Sitting up and swinging her legs from the little bed, she unsteadily got to her feet, nearly lost her balance, and caught herself on the vanity. She knew she must have looked terrible, having been rutted by no fewer than four stallions in the last two hours, yet the sight of herself in the mirror gave her a moment for pause. Her mane was disheveled, she had errant ropes of spunk on her face, abdomen, and rack, and her makeup was smeared - still, she was beautiful all the same.

Stepping back and smiling all the broader, she ran one hand down to her hip while placing the other behind her head. She may have looked like she was on the cusp of delivering triplets, and she actually was, but she was only two months pregnant. One of, if not the best thing about being a Queen changeling was that she was, for all intents and purposes, a literal foal-factory.

Her prolific nature had been the key to her success in the changing world. Twilight and her fellow Princesses had eventually discovered that she was on the loose, yet they’d sought no quarrel with her - not because they feared her, but because they’d seen what she’d become. Effectively offering herself to any and all zebras who wanted a quickie, regardless of their age or if they were in a relationship, she was too busy getting fucked to cause any trouble.

As her gaze drifted over to the little crown resting on her dressing table, her mirth wavered. She’d once been a proud villain, the matriarch of a hive who was only spoken of in hushed whispers to scare colts and fillies, but those days were gone. Though she told herself over and over that she’d made the right decision, that she was using Zebrican studs as a resource, she could never fully convince herself of the truth.

She was an addict, a lust-crazed fanatic for zebras who’d given up everything to serve them, and she hated herself for it. The rapture of being plowed like a field in spring was divine, so incredible that it made her forget about who and what she was, but the thrill always faded - to make matters worse, like being hooked on a strong drug, she was fully aware that she couldn’t live without them. Shaking her head and dislodging the unsavory thoughts, she grabbed a brush and began tidying herself up.

There wasn’t time to take a shower and adequately clean herself, but she could make herself presentable before her next suitor arrived. Wiping herself down and getting most of the drying spunk off herself, she took a moment to admire herself. She was far larger than she used to be, curvy in all the right places and with udder-like tits that could give a dairy cow a run for its money, and it wasn’t some paltry facade.

Being constantly knocked up had done a permanent number on her. Her heavy chest, dump truck of an ass, and plump thighs would have gotten her plenty of admirers by themselves, but it was the accessories she’d been gifted that really turned heads. Thick golden hoops hung from her ears, nipples, and clit, while a spade with a stylized Z dangled from her protruding navel.

At some point or another, a few weeks ago if memory served her correctly, she’d decided to stop putting on heirs to fully exploit her somewhat unique position. What little attire she had would have made a stripper’s wardrobe seem conservative in comparison, and that wasn’t accounting for the way she carried herself. Hungrily eyeing every Zebrican bull she came across, she was perpetually on the hunt for the biggest, finest studs she could find.

She’s always been a sexual creature, leaning heavily on her stunning looks and seductive skills, yet her freedom, being able to go out and about without fear of the royal guard, had seen her carnality honed to a razored edge. After reapplying some jade lipstick and matching blush, she crossed to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer. While she was perfectly content to lounge around in the buff while waiting for visitors to arrive, she did have a small number of outfits designed to accentuate her look.

Donning a pair of leggings, collar, and arm warmers, each of which covered in a black and white cow print, she snickered to herself. She looked absolutely ridiculous, like some slutty frat girl going out for Nightmare Night, although the outfit was a small price to pay for getting her guests riled up. As the sound of approaching footfalls crept to her ears, telling her that somepony would be appearing shortly, she sauntered to a breeding rack situated opposite of her bed, bent forward, and leaned against the wooden bar.

Sure enough, within seconds, a stallion trotted in and came to a halt. Just as tall and well-built as her last visitor, the towering stud smirked when she wiggled her tush at him. Pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side, revealing his sculpted abs, beautiful pecs, and adonic striped physique, he shuffled over as a second titan walked in behind him.

Chrysalis’ eyes went alight when the second stallion started to strip. The pair must have known one another, seeing as how they’d arrived together, were working in concert, and were unbothered by undressing in front of each other - meaning she was about to be in for some extra fun. Getting screwed by one zebra was more than enough to satiate her, but being used by two at the same time was a rare, heavenly treat.

“Can’t believe they’ve got this bitch in a barn,” one of the stallions laughed as he stepped out of his pants.

His companion nodded as he removed his boxers. “Are you surprised? Fucking slut is basically just livestock at this point - I mean, look at her,” he chuckled, waving at her. “It’s not like anyone is forcing her to live like this.”

Spreading and bracing her legs, Chrysalis expectantly arched her back. Given her slatternly appearance and her surroundings, their derision wasn’t wholly undue. While she did have a roof over her head, an inexhaustible supply of food, and bits in the bank, her abode was far from a traditional one. In what had to have been a cruel joke from Twilight, she lived in a small barn on the outskirts of Canterlot.

She had been furious to learn she’d be residing in a cowshed, although her hatred of the place, much like her self-respect, had gradually faded. Was it humiliating to be viewed as little more than a set of warm, welcoming holes who resided in a barn? Yes, of course it was - that said, the benefits outweighed the costs. Yelping as one of the duo sauntered over and roughly smacked her ass, she flicked her tail to one side.

“Dude, is that a milking machine?” the other stallion guffawed as he stopped and tapped a foot to a machine placed beside her.

Laughing and nonchalantly squeezing her ass, his companion nodded. “Damn right it is. How about you hook ol’ Bessy up - trust me, she fuckin’ loves getting milked while she’s getting railed ~ don’t ya, darlin’?”

“Uh…uh-huh,” she murmured.

Shuffling back, she held the support beam as the stallion knelt down, flicked on the device, and affixed the teat cups to her nipples. The contraption wasn’t designed for comfort or pleasure in mind, yet the strong suction on her breasts was amazing. With strands of cum and nectar drooling from her gaped, winking marehood, she watched as the twosome got into position.

The pair wasted no time with her, plunging into her snout and pussy respectively. Both of them were exquisite, having cocks that could and more than likely had despoiled any number of pony mares, and they had no reservations about taking what they wanted. While one grabbed her dock, the other snatched up a fistful of her hair.

“Gotta - Nnnf - tighten up, bitch,” the stallion fucking her grunted as he pulled on her tail and gave her tush another sound slap.

Being slightly more gentle than his friend, the second zebra grimaced. “Does she actually like that?”

“Does it fucking matter?” the initial stud laughed, sheathing his length with a particularly forceful plunge. “Just look at her and tell me she’s not having the time of her life.”

Dully looking upward, she gazed at the sympathetic face of the stallion swabbing her throat. Her eyes were watering, streaks of lipstick were smeared along the length of his cock, and the sting of being spanked mingled with her bliss, but she was genuinely happy. Drunk on rapture and their intoxicating libidos, she surrendered herself to them.

As she rocked back and forth between them, wallowing in ecstasy and already approaching her first climax with the pair, she fantasized about how many foals she’d eventually have. Every foal she’d had from being bred by a Zebrican was a zebra, healthy and perfect in every way, and each had been brought to a home who’d care for them and raise them with plenty of love. While she was perfectly capable of raising young herself, the number of mares out in the world who couldn’t conceive for one reason or another was staggering - as such, she was delighted to churn out as many fillies and colts as she could.

Unsheathing his stallionhood, the stud behind her kissed the tip of his length to her backdoor. “Gotta get here earlier tomorrow…”

“Why?” his friend inquired, cocking his head as he screwed her muzzle.

“Because - fuck yeah,” he groaned, sinking into her behind. “I ain’t after sloppy sevenths or whatever.”

Chrysalis’ eyes shot wide as her ass was violated. Between not being the biggest fan of anal and the abrupt intrusion, she gagged and sputtered on the shaft filling her gullet. As she was savagely spit-roasted, unable to breathe or move, her vision began to tunnel. Almost anypony in her position would have started to panic from the development - fortunately for her, she wasn’t just anypony.

Throwing her weight back to meet one stud’s thrusts, she craned her neck and touched her nose to the other stallion’s groin. Though she’d lost her hive, her aspirations for toppling the Equestrian empire, and her dignity, she still had her pride. Taking sips of air if and when she could, she glided one hand down her body, over her hip, and to her crotch.

She’d given up much, but she was still formidable in her own right. Drawing strength from the pair, she waded through her blinding rapture and found her focus. Every part of her, from her muzzle and womb to the depths of her backside and marehood were exceptionally well-trained, and there was a darn good reason she was as popular as she was.

Releasing her tail and grabbing her ample, foal-bearing hips, the stud fucking her ass increased his pace. “Told ya the slut loves it.”

The zebra making use of her snout followed his companion’s example by grabbing the back of her head and plowing her face. “We should - fuck - bring the gang over and play paternity roulette with her after she’d delivered.”

Simply the mention of paternity roulette drove her wild with lust. If she hadn’t already had several buns in her extraordinarily productive oven, her ovaries would have gone into overdrive - as things stood, she climaxed instantaneously. Nectar seeped from her slavering nethers, and torrents of milk were vacuumed from her breasts as the duo plowed her into submission.

All her experience and talents, both natural and otherwise, meant nothing in the face of such incomprehensible pleasure. Her anger and disdain, knowing the pair should be worshiping the ground she walked on, was eclipsed by an all-consuming euphoria. Shamelessly rubbing her clit, she drove herself to and past the brink of another orgasm.

The two stallions laughed when she came again, yet their mockery somehow didn’t detract from her ecstasy - conversely, it amplified it. Where once she would have flown into a rage, she groaned and weakly sought to get them off. They’d come to her for a purpose, to pump their cum into or on her, and she wasn’t about to leave them wanting.

If the pair weren’t particularly pent up, they were extremely enthused to be with her. Eventually being carried to the bed so she could ride one while the other made use of her rear, she made no attempts to stop them. It wasn’t that uncommon for two or even three studs to come by and use her simultaneously, but such instances always ended the same way - with her becoming a gibbering, squirting heap.

It didn’t take long for her to lose track of how many climaxes she had. As her faculties started to fail and her mind drifted into a haze, she went limp. The ecstasy coursing through her was as much of a blessing as it was a curse - sure, it dulled her vitriol and was immeasurably enjoyable, yet it was responsible for her deplorable state.

Her past self, the changeling that had commanded respect and dread in equal measure, was gone - in its place was a deplorable tramp that was beholden to her gluttonous cravings. Locking her legs around one stallion’s back while she smashed her tits around the other’s tool, she kissed and suckled on the cock-head protruding from her cleavage. There was a point at which she could have turned back and reattained her villainous reputation - unfortunately, she was beyond salvation.

Opening her maw and extending her tongue, she closed her eyes when she saw the stallionhood before her beginning to flare. Gouts of seed shot over her face, into her mane, and into her mouth while she moaned and squirmed on the bed. With one stud finished and the other hammering away at her marehood, she almost regretted that they would be finished so soon.

The second zebra followed suit shortly after his companion, bathing her interior with his jizz before pulling out to paint her belly and groin. While she giggled like a school filly and rubbed herself down, the pair finished, moving away from her to collect themselves Crazed and nearly out of her mind, she only looked over when one of the pair threw a handful of bits over to her.

“C’mon,” one groused at his friend as he put his shirt back on, “we should -”

“W…wait,” she rasped, heaving her weight to one side and toppling off the mattress.

Barely managing to catch herself and land on all fours, she crawled over to them. Neither of the zebras had gotten fully dressed, and only one of them had picked up his pants, but they stopped what they were doing and watched her approach. She came between them and pushed herself into a kneeling position as her eyes shot between their endowments. Though they were about to leave, there was one thing she had to do before they departed.

As she leaned over to the closest of the pair and drew her tongue up his length, she smiled up at him. Aside from drawing out the dispassionate exchange, she couldn’t bring herself to let them go without cleaning them up a bit. Doing her job - her duty was one of the only things she had left, so she’d be remiss for allowing them to walk out slathered in her juices.

Shaking his head, the stallion peered down at her. “She really is a broken slut.”

“Yeah,” the other sighed, “but she’s kinda fun. You wanna hit her up tomorrow morning - ya know, before she gets turned inside out?”

“Sure,” he mused. Lowering one hand and patting her on the head, he beamed. “You want us to come back and see you?”

“Yesh,” she slurred, relishing the heady flavors cascading over her palate.

She quickly finished with one stallion and shuffled over to the second, lavishing his dangling cock with her lips and tongue while she basked in the afterglow and wondered if she’d ever see them again. Whether they paid her another visit was of little consequence, but it was a pleasant thought all the same. As she sucked the stud clean and heard banter from just outside, her heart started to race. She may have fallen from grace, but she’d ended up drowning in one thing she’d always wanted - love…

Luna

Click-Clack Click-Clack

The sound of her heels against the polished marble floor of the Fillydelphia Grand Mall rang in Luna’s ears as she flitted from one storefront to the next. There were so many things to look at, so many new outfits to browse, and so many accessories to find that she didn’t know what to do with herself! Leaning over and smiling at a pair of fuzzy, hot-pink boots in a window display, she momentarily shifted her focus to her reflection.

There’d been a time when she detested shopping, preferring to order simple garments or shoes by mail, although that time, much like the reclusive, up-tight mare she’d once been, had passed. Glancing down and seeing that one of her breasts had slipped free from her top, she tittered and stuffed her tit back into its cloth confines. It was silly - no, crazy to think she’d been nervous to bite the bullet and let herself go after her abdication, but she’d never been happier.

Her flowing mane and tail were glorious, her cat-like eyes twinkled like a pair of sapphires, and her midnight black hide contrasted each and every colorful outfit she owned. She would have looked stunning and turned heads wherever she went, she was well-aware of that, but that wasn’t good enough for her. Shortly after her abdication, with Twilight looking over things in her and Celestia’s wake, she’d decided to do something she’d yearned to do for centuries - actually have some fun.

Upon retirement, an ordinary mare likely would have partied, had a few wild flings, and let their hair down, although that wasn’t going to cut it with her - not by a long shot. After taking care of Equestria for multiple lifetimes, excluding her brief banishment to the moon, only something extreme would satisfy her. Unsure of what to do to help herself blow off several millennia of steam, she’d gotten a wondrous suggestion from Twilight. Since she’d struggle to be her casual self in public, why not be somepony else.

In all but name, Luna was gone - in her place stood a downright whorish parody of her villainous self. Though Twilight had explained what had happened to her several times, going so far as to draw her diagrams and even write out a fancy chart of some type, she couldn’t fully wrap her head around it - not like she cared. All she knew was that she loved her new self.

Her resemblance to Nightmare Moon, albeit a buxom, bubbly, bimbofied version of her alter ego, was uncanny - heck, she even got complimented on her cosplay on a regular basis! Ponies would occasionally compliment her on her costume, remarking on her uncanny likeness to the evildoer, which suited her just fine. So long as she could do as she liked, her former subjects could think whatever they wanted of her.

Spying the price tag on the boots she’d been eyeing, she straightened up and hastily gave herself a once-over. Her makeup, including the turquoise lipstick on her full, luscious pair of cock-pillows, was immaculate, her tits were so massive that they were spilling out of her tube top, and her fat, curvy ass was barely covered by the micro skirt hugging her ample, foal-bearing hips - in short, she looked as perfect as perfect could be. Turning and scampering away from the shop, she lifted a hand and waved.

“Daddy!” she shouted, flagging down a towering, musclebound titan lumbering in her direction.

As she leapt up and hugged his chest, the giant peered down at her and smirked. “Lemme guess…”

She nodded excitedly, gently took him by the wrist, and pouted up at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately caressed her cheek. “You’re just too cute.”

Giggling like a school filly, she batted at his chest and demurely held a hand to her muzzle. The big guy’s name was Ọnwa, and she could honestly say he’d made her happier than she’d ever been - at least she was pretty sure she was happier than she’d ever been. Twilight had done so much for her, giving her a drop dead bombshell of a body, and she’d done more than merely alter her physique.

Along with the whipcord waist, a rack and derriere that rivaled those of her sister, and dick-sucking lips she knew colts fantasized about, her personality was nothing like it once had been. She didn’t have to worry about tiresome obligations like putting on airs for aristocrats and nobility, nor was she beholden to lording over the night - instead, her biggest concerns were what lipstick she should wear and which panties looked cutest on her. Though she still had her crown, a gift from Twilight that she kept on her vanity, its weight no longer hung heavily upon her.

“So…?” he intoned, his words cutting through the mental fog that perpetually assailed her.

Peeking up at him, she opened her mouth, lifted a finger, and remained silent. Heck - what had she been doing? She’d been worked up about something, something she’d seen if she could remember, but the details were fuzzy. Hugging his side on instinct, relishing the safety and comfort he afforded, she inadvertently spotted the shoe store she’d just visited.

“Oh!” she chirped as her eyes settled on the pair of boots she’d been looking at just a few minutes prior. “Daddy, come look!”

Dragging him along behind herself, uncaring of the display she was putting on, she marched over to the shop. She was fully aware of how she must have looked, having her rack, panties, and ass on display for anypony in the area, but that didn’t bother her at all - if anything, it warmed her heart. Now that she’d given up her throne, her modesty, and a not insignificant amount of her intellect, she was finally free to enjoy herself.

Stopping and pointing at the inordinately overpriced footwear, she craned her neck to look up at Ọnwa. “See!”

“Come on, doll,” he groaned, hooking a thick finger under her chin, “I just got you that pair of stilettos.”

Following his gaze downward, she peered down at her expansive cleavage, realized he wasn’t inspecting her tits, and leaned to one side. “Oh…”

“Yeah - oh,” he laughed.

Staring down at the vividly colored high heels lashed to her feet, she knit her brow. A sliver of who she’d once been, the reserved, level-headed Princess of the Night, raged at her, cursing her for willingly making herself an imbecile, but her irritation was fleeting. While she’d often heard that dumb ponies had it pretty easy, being incapable of stressing over a great many problems in life, it wasn’t until she’d undergone her metamorphosis that she was fully able to appreciate the claim.

She tugged on the cuff of Ọnwa’s shirt and petulantly stamped a food. “But I want it!”

“Babe…” he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Don’t you -”

“Puh-leeeeeeeeeze!” she whined, clasping her hands before her monumental bosoms.

Utterly unmoved, Ọnwa ran his fingers through his mohawk, down the back of his head, and to his neck. “I don’t know…”

She loved him - sweet stars above, she loved him more than anything for any number of amazing reasons, but he could be a tough nut to crack. Even-tempered and startlingly suave, he was the very definition of a gentle giant - that said, she knew how to get her way with him. As her gaze drifted down his powerful chest, abs, and to his groin, the corner of her lips turned up. Despite the fact that he was way smarter than she was, he wasn’t immune to her voluptuous charms.

“I’ll do anything for them, daddy,” she sulked, running a finger down her collar and to the bounteous valley of her breasts.

Simultaneously pulling at her top to reveal an obsidian nipple and running her free hand up his thigh and to the massive swell within his jeans, she snickered mischievously. The warmth against her palm, feeling his concealed stallionhood twitch against her, made her marehood tingle with anticipation. Of all the changes she’d gone through, both psychological and psychical, her absolute favorite was just liberated her libido had become.

Ọnwa stepped back, almost fleeing from her touch, and leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek. The fleeting kiss instantaneously lifted her spirits, brought a smile to her muzzle, and almost made her forget about her goal - almost. Undeterred but changing tactics, she cupped her hands to his chin and returned his affection.

As she closed her eyes and sank her tongue into his mouth, a groan escaped her. Doing anything with him, be it something as simple as sharing a meal or waking up beside him, was a torturous affair - not because she didn’t savor his company, but because it took every ounce of her willpower to control herself around him. He was gorgeous in every sense of the word, tall, virile, and with rugged good looks, and he was hers - all hers.

He faltered slightly, entwining his tongue with hers for a moment before pulling away. “Anything…?”

Her eyes went alight and her ears perked up from the subtle hint of enthusiasm and lust in his tone. He’d nibbled the bait she’d laid out for him, undoubtedly understanding the offer she was making, but the job wasn’t finished yet. Closing the gap between them, she pressed her weighty chest to his abdomen, snaked an arm around the small of his back, and traced a finger up the front of his pants.

“Anything…” she repeated, her voice low and dripping with sinful intent.

She could have stopped there and waited for him to accept or challenge her promise, but she pushed the envelope. Deftly opening his fly, she surreptitiously slid a hand into his jeans to fondle his package. Her ethereal mane and tail, paired with how she was standing so close to him, would have made it difficult for somepony to see what she was doing with him, allowing her to stroke his steadily hardening length from over the silk of his boxers.

Meeting her eyes, he flashed his teeth. “You really are evil ~ you know that?”

She grinned from ear to ear while she continued rubbing his hardening tool. “I’m just a little naughty.”

Without saying a thing, he gingerly took her by the wrist, withdrew her hand from his pants, and zipped up his fly. Her amusement wavered and heart sank as he rose to his full height before her and turned away. Had she done something wrong? Was he mad at her? What about the boots? Keeping her attention on his face, she nearly tripped over her own feet when he glanced back and winked at her.

“Hope you’re not gonna skimp out on me,” he muttered.

Her thong grew moist with arousal as her marehood ached with desire. “Like ~ have I ever?”

She slowed as she was led past a corridor, a small pathway that was used to carry freight to the storerooms of shops, and shifted on one heel. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, babe?” he inquired, halting and looking back at her.

Taking the lead and lacing fingers with him, she sashayed into the passageway. She had to assume he’d either been bringing her to a bathroom or to the parking garage, either of which being relatively private areas where she could convince him to buy her yet another gift before they headed home, yet her impatience got the best of her. After telling him that she’d do anything if he got her the boots, she wasn’t going to wait to show him she meant business.

She whipped around to face him, stepped around, and delicately pushed him back against one wall of the hallway. He was so much bigger than her, towering over her as though she was a child, and his size extended to far more than just his stature. Lowering her head, she stared in wide-eyed wonder at the massive imprint snaking down one leg of his jeans.

“May I, daddy?” she chirped, wiping saliva from her chin as she forced herself to look back up to his face.

Leaning back, he nodded down at his crotch. “Go ahead, baby.”

Though she wanted to pounce on him and rip his pants off, she restrained herself and lazily sank into a deep, obscene squat. As her thighs parted and the cool air washed against her nethers, her skirt rode upward to unveil the twin globes of her rear. She peeked up at him for a split second, ensuring his eyes were upon her, before she grasped the hem of her top and hauled it upward.

The art of seduction was but one of many skills she’d mastered after her transformation. What she’d lost in height, mental capacity, and modesty, she’d gained in erotic appeal, carnal prowess, and a sense of contentment that she hadn’t thought possible. She reclined slightly and propped herself against one arm as the fabric over her chest drew tighter and tighter, exposing more and more of her under-cleavage, until the inevitable happened.

In perfect tandem, her tits flopped free and slumped to either side of her slim torso. She could practically imagine how slatternly she must have looked, legs spread and tits out, and it reminded her of just how far she’d come. Ọnwa would endearingly call her the Princess of Sluts, and it was moments like these that proved she’d earned that title.

“Hot damn,” he breathed as she slid a hand down her flat, bare abdomen to the plump mound of her marehood.

Pulling her thong to the side, she gave him a peek at her glistening, drooling pussy. She was worked up more often than not, ready for action at a moment’s notice when he was around, although her gratification would have to wait. As she pushed herself up and came face to face with his groin, her heart started to race.

She acted quickly, expertly loosening his belt, undoing his pants, and pulling his jeans and underwear down his thick, muscular thighs. As inch after incredible inch of his stallionhood came into view, the most heavenly scent flooded her sinuses. It was a wonder he hadn’t knocked her up already, because she swore his musk was strong enough to kick her ovaries into overdrive by itself.

Releasing his attire, she brought her hands to his imposing length. His endowment was utterly monstrous, too heavy to stand under its own weight and apparently so massive that it had scared away mares in the past, yet she loved it for all its barbaric beauty. His size, strength, stallionhood had won her over from the second she’d laid eyes on him, making his big, meaty balls the icing on the cake.

She reached past his shaft, lovingly cradled one mammoth testicles, and shivered in delight. Ọnwa could quite literally cum buckets, producing enough foal-batter to impregnate any mare who was even remotely fertile, and earning his seed, whether it was pumped down her throat, into her womb, or spattering over her face and tits, was the ultimate prize for a job well done. Unable to control herself any further, staving off the temptation to furiously rub herself, she pinched her nipples and expectantly opened her maw.

“There’s a good filly,” he approvingly whispered. Stepping forward and clutching the base of his shaft, he angled his length up to her face.

Sandwiching his shaft in her cleavage, she wrapped her lips around the bloated head of his cock. She could still taste herself on him, the tang of her pussy clashing with his sweat and dried spunk from the quickie they’d had before leaving his home, and the flavor was intoxicating. She’d heard that most mares detested a stud who was even the slightest bit dirty, insisting their lovers bathe before becoming intimate, but she adored experiencing Ọnwa in his natural, unwashed glory.

Languidly bucking his hips and stroking the top of her head, he closed his eyes and shudderingly exhaled. “Looks like we’ve got an audience…”

She glanced to the side while his dick slid over her tongue and rhythmically bumped against the back of her throat. Sure enough, nearly half a dozen ponies were lingering at the entryway of the service corridor - to make matters worse, there were more appearing at an alarming rate. A more reasonable mare would have stopped what she was doing and gone somewhere away from prying eyes, although the act of being watched, of knowing that several of the onlookers were recording her on their phones, did anything but embarrass her.

Patting his hip and sidling over, giving her fans a clearer look at her goods, she pressed her tits together with her forearms and loudly moaned around his stallionhood. It wasn’t the first time they’d been caught while fooling around, and she felt certain that it would be the last - regardless, if the ponies wanted a show, she’d give them a show. As she worked a hand into her panties to knead and stroke her pussy, the growing crowd buzzed with excitement.

The flash of cameras, ponies jockeying to get a better to watch or film, and the jealous hisses mingled with those of awed reverence were electrifying. She didn’t recall having any exhibitionistic tendencies in her old life, much preferring the quiet solitude of her room whenever she wished to get herself off, but she’d been getting increasingly fond of having spectators.

Giving him a tit-job while nursing on the first few inches of his shaft, she rocked her shoulders forward and back. The position she was in would have made it impossible for him to fully swab her throat, although that could change at any instance. For as pleasant as Ọnwa was, he could become quite domineering when the mood struck him.

He cracked open an eye and cocked his head as he peered down at her. “You’re really into this ~ huh?”

“Mmmmph hmmph, nnnfnnf,” she sputtered, sending flecks of spittle and pre-cum from around his lipstick-smeared cock.

Shaking his head, he stepped back and pulled his stallionhood from her muzzle with a soft pop. “What’d I tell you about talking with your mouth full?”

“Sorry, daddy,” she murmured as she averted her gaze. With crimson creeping into her cheeks, she peeked up at him. “I said, uh-huh, daddy.”

“Gimme your hand,” he hummed. Wrapping his fingers around her slender digits, he lifted her up to her feet and twisted at the waist. “One sec…”

Tracking him with her eyes, she remained where she stood while he lumbered over to a disused crate and pushed it in her direction. Just as a frown began to grace her snout, displeased that he’d lost interest in her, she beamed when she understood what he’d done. She hopped in place, setting her breasts and tush wobbling uncontrollably, as he slapped the oversized wooden box.

With his job done, he hefted and stroked himself off. “If we’re gonna give them a show…”

She rushed over, draped her arms against the container, lewdly braced her legs, and flipped her tail to the side. Nectar dribbled from her cunt, dripping to the floor as her marehood winked and gave everypony looking a view of her silken, sweltering depths. Arching her back and resting her head, she invitingly swayed her hips from side to side.

The throng was getting bigger by the second, it looked as though several of the ponies were on the verge of fighting one another, and more than two stallions in attendance were surreptitiously rubbing their dicks through their pants, although none of them, save one, held her interest. There was a long zebra amongst the hoard, standing head and shoulders above the rest, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he was wanting a piece of her - too bad for him, she was taken.

Gripping her waist, Ọnwa stepped behind her and kissed the tip of his length to her entrance. “Ready to show ‘em how it’s done?”

“Yes, daddy,” she purred, bucking back and grinding her snatch against the fist-sized head of his endowment.

“Ah ah -” he tutted, wagging a finger, “you said you’d do anything, so fuck yourself on me…”

She threw her weight back and gave him what he wanted, impaling herself on him the moment he’d finished speaking. Bolts of pleasure shot through her as she was filled, stretching her open and making her cry out in glee. Every little detail of his stallionhood, from the veins along its side to its subtle curve, was magnificent, even if it had taken her quite some time to fully appreciate it.

As she screwed herself on him, openly whimpering and milking his shaft, her thoughts sailed back to when he’d first claimed her. She’d climaxed as swiftly as he’d plunged into her, unprepared for the monumental girth of his tool, and she’d been in love with him ever since. Each of his ruttings was better than the last, with her body gradually adapting to accommodate him, until she’d reached her peak. After getting fucked by him more times than she could possibly count, she basked in the astonishing feeling his tremendous stallionhood afforded.

Though she grasped that nopony other than an unbelievably well-endowed striped stud could ever give her any satisfaction, she wasn’t upset - on the contrary, she was glad. Effectively walking eye candy and a trio of welcoming holes for Ọnwa, eager to bend over or suck him off whenever or wherever he wanted, it was her duty - no, her honor to ensure his sexual needs were always tended to. The bliss which wracked her was indescribable, made all the sweeter by having an audience to appreciate him, and it only amplified when her lover fiercely grabbed her waist.

Standing behind her at an angle, Ọnwa set to plowing her. His thrusts were slow and methodical, grinding his medial ring against her g-spot as the battering ram-like tip of his stallionhood slammed against her womb, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. As he gave her ass a sound smack, her guttural groan echoed through the relatively cramped hallway.

This was what she lived for, serving a creature that was an order of magnitude superior to either herself or the citizens of Equestria, although her enjoyment was a mere byproduct of her role. Ọnwa’s pleasure took precedence over her own, being the absolute stud that he was, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. For centuries - millennia, she’d looked over other ponies’ dreams, but now she was getting to live her own.

“Harder, d…daddy,” she stammered, fiercely constricting around his pistoning length.

He snorted and repositioned himself ever so slightly. “You got it, babe…”

Hammering into her, he gradually picked up his pace. She fought through her rapture and met every ounce of his passion, rolling her hips back to meet his plunges, while she inched closer and closer to release. It never took her long to cum with him, and this time was no exception.

With her toes curling and knees buckling, she tensed. “Oh buck!”

The deluge marish juices flowing from around his colossal shaft washed against his crotch, dampened his pants, and pattered to the floor, but he was far from finished with her. There wasn’t much about her that didn’t turn him on, leading to him getting frisky whenever he was with her, but few things got his motor running like having her climax on his dick.

Grunting, he leaned forward, plastered his chest to her back, and extended his arms beneath her. She knew what was coming, that he was going to play with her tremendous, udder-like tits, yet she made no move to stop him. Compared to the petite, frankly flat chest she used to have, her breasts were as remarkably sensitive as they were gargantuan.

“Here we go,” he rumbled, lifting her by her bosoms and spinning her around. Holding her up for all to see, he left her standing on her tiptoes. “Be sure to post the video to your socials, pervs.”

In spite of still riding out her orgasm, the sight of multiple cameras angled at her, with a few intrepid souls creeping closer for a better shot, sent her mind into a tailspin. Howling and resting her hands on Ọnwa’s forearms, she tightly squeezed the cock rearranging her insides. She doubted anypony knew who she was, but a part of her hoped somepony would figure it out.

Rubbing his arms, she looked up and back at him. “T…thank you - Aaaaghn - daddy.”

He leaned in and kissed her horn without skipping a beat. “You’re welcome, babe - now let’s give them what they’re here for. Gimme your legs.”

With a flexibility that belied her curvaceous figure, she balanced on one foot while lifting the other upward. She really didn’t have a favorite position to be fucked in, so long she was being dominated, but being pinned in a depraved wrestling hold was definitely one of the better ones. Robbed of all ability to move, she pawed at her tits and twisted her nipples.

One climax bled into another as her mind was consumed with ecstasy. She must have looked like a porn star on some makeshift set, screaming uncontrollably while squirting nectar like a geyser, and she’d bet her bottom bit that she’d be seeing clips of herself getting screwed into a coma before the day was done. Basking in the in unimaginable pleasure, she only snapped out of her haze when she sensed Ọnwa flaring against her cervix.

“Breed me, daddy!” she shamelessly wailed.

Though he didn’t respond verbally, his reaction was nothing short of divine. Lowering her and giving a final plunge, he hilted and came. The influx of seed was beyond prolific, spilling out of her quivering, battered cunt and coursing into her foal-factory. She could virtually picture it, billions upon billions of his powerful sperm rushing to find her defenseless little eggs, and the notion of being impregnated before a crowd made her feel like a bride on her wedding night.

Heaving air into her saliva-streaked chest, she hung her head and clung to consciousness. Their shopping trip wasn’t finished, there was a long ride back to his house, and she’d have chores to do once she was home, so she couldn’t afford to pass out. As he released her legs one at a time, she stumbled against the wall to keep herself from falling.

“Just gotta…” he trailed off behind her. Carefully lifting her feet and stepping her into her panties, he pulled her underwear up her legs and over her creampied marehood. “There we go.”

“S…shank youh, daddy,” she slurred.

Giving her a small pat on the rear, he trotted away and waved for her to follow. “Don’t say I never did nothing for ya. C’mon, I’m starving.”

Drunkenly trailing after him, she didn’t even try to get her top on. Her mane was a mess, a trail of jizz was sneaking down her inner thighs, and her tits bounced over her distended, cum-filled abdomen as she thoughtlessly tried to catch up with him. Lacing her fingers with his, she steered him over to a jewelry shop. He may not have given her a ring yet, but maybe - just maybe seeing her try a few on might give him an idea or two…

Grogar

Grogar’s eyes swept over his desk and the map of Equestria sprawling over it. Troop movements, Royal Guard garrisons, the locations of the Elements of Harmony - they were all there, marked out and accounted for, and the sight brought a smile to his face. The Empire had been a veritable fortress, protected by demigod alicorns and powerful heroes alike, but that had been changing.

The influx of Zebricans had, for reasons he’d yet to determine, given him an opportunity he’d waited millennia for. Glancing at the coffee mug in his left hand, he flexed his arm and shattered the ceramic into a million pieces. Though he was old, having endured lifetimes in solitude, he was still a force to be reckoned with.

In spite of his incredible age, he was in his prime. A strict routine, paired with a liberal dose of dark magic, had maintained his phenomenal physique and strength - sure, he had some white in his beard and mohawk, although his powerful arms, tree trunk-like thighs, six pack abs, and rippling pecs would have made even the most well-trained stallion envious. Shaking coffee from his hand, he fell motionless when something brushed against his knee.

He rested an elbow on the table, pinched the bridge of his snout, and gave a small sigh. Equestria was ripe for the picking, the time was right to strike, and yet he’d done nothing but brood and refine his schemes. He would have shouldered the blame for his procrastination, knowing that to delay his assault could potentially lead to problems, had it not been for a recent development.

Sensing a pair of hands come to rest on his knees, he smirked then immediately frowned. Having somepony discover his lair would have been impressive in and of itself, but to have them trek through the badlands and into the forbidden jungles of the southlands by themselves was worthy of no small amount of respect. As he allowed his legs to be gently parted, blood flowed to his nethers.

“Again?” he grumbled without moving.

A tongue being drawn up from the head of his dangling cock to the root of his shaft was all the reply he was given, though that was no surprise. Of the vast pantheon of creatures he’d dealt with over the ages, both on the battleground or in the bedroom, she was one of the most tolerable - and with good reason. Hearing a soft, guttural groan from beneath the desk, he leaned back and peered downward.

Peeking up at him, past a shaggy mop of short dreadlocks, a pair of emerald eyes twinkled in the gloom. She would have stopped if he’d decreed it, obeying him unquestionably and practically worshiping the ground he walked on, yet he hesitated. Her technique, much like her alluring and deliciously svelte figure, was a, dare he say, pleasant departure from the isolation he’d grown so accustomed to.

Locking eyes with him, she rocked back, hefted his prodigious tool in both hands, and wrapped her head around the tip of his shaft. He’d gone - well, he honestly couldn’t say how long it had been since he’d had company, let alone company who was eager to serve him, and he was hard pressed to turn down her advances. Holding her gaze, he fought to keep the corners of his lips from curling upward.

Her name was Olora and she was a blessing and a curse. He’d been shocked to discover her skulking about his lair one morning, not having the faintest idea of whom she was, where she’d come from, or what her intentions were, but she’d cheerfully and quite animatedly thrown herself at his feet and begged - begged him to take her in. After a bit of convincing on her behalf, prostrating herself and offering her life to him, he’d begrudgingly obliged her request.

He couldn’t view much of her, squatted down in the shadows while hungrily nursing on the end of his dick, but what he could make out was quite provocative. Appearances aside, the fact that she positively adored him, so much so that she’s sought him out simply to serve him, was stirring. Slipping his hand under the table’s surface, he wove his fingers through her mane and growled.

She immediately slowed and freed her muzzle. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“Did I say something was wrong?” he rumbled, sneering and tightening his grip on her head.

Opening her mouth and extending her tongue, she shot forward and throated nearly half of his endowment. The tautness of her gullet was amazing, even if he realized that may change with time and repeated abuse, and it bled away his irritation. He wanted to be frustrated with her, to throttle her and tell her that her meddling was putting a damper on plans he’d spent a small eternity crafting, but he couldn’t bring himself to chastise her - not now in any case.

She quietly gagged and sputtered around him while mopping his length with her lips. For somepony her age, barely legal by Equestrian standards, she was exceptionally well-versed in the carnal arts - to the point where the notion of shooing her away to find another stud for herself made his blood boil. If she wanted to give herself to him, splaying her legs with but a snap of his fingers, who was he to stop her.

Seeing her lower a hand and shift slightly, he peaked a brow. Like many times before and doubtlessly many times yet to come, her enthusiasm had gotten the better of her. Wantonly rubbing her marehood and stroking him with her free hand, all while continuing to fellate him, she got herself off purely from pleasing him.

Watching her shamelessly masturbate as she sucked him off did little to quench the growing fires of his lust. Too long - he’d gone far, far too long without knowing the tender touch of a female, yet fate had dropped her on his doorstep for some unfathomable reason. He smirked, revealing his prominent tusks, and shook his head. He wasn’t sure who was worse - him for caving to his lecherous urges or her for being so utterly depraved.

She drew a deep breath through her sinuses and drove herself forward, cutting herself off from air as her snout crept closer and closer to his groin. Her zeal was, to say the least, admirable, far greater than most, and it chipped away at his resolve. Releasing her, he held the arms of his chair to enjoy the sight, sound, and sensations she afforded, he openly smiled.

Continuing onward, she didn’t stop until her nose bumped against the white tuft of his pubes, but she didn’t relent - in fact, she was only getting started. Pulling sway and unsheathing a portion of his shaft, she bobbed her head and swabbed her gullet with him. She didn’t strike him as particularly masochistic, yet her devotion was so strong that she’d literally choke herself on him.

She winced as she brought a hand to her throat and squeezed. The additional stimulation was enough to reward her with a pleased hiss from above that spurred her onward. She was fully aware that he was enjoying himself, irrespective of his harsh tone and stern demeanor, and it was all she needed to have some fun herself.

What he’d initially thought was purely sycophantic fanfare had proven itself to be anything but ostentation. She frequently touched herself in his presence, regardless of whether she was doing anything to him or not, and on more than one occasion he’d caught her sniffing his discarded loincloths while furiously finger-banging her cunt. In a way, her utter obsession with him was cute, although it came at the cost of his productivity.

It didn’t take her long to cum, her motions faltering as nectar wept from her quaking depths, and it was the final straw. Pushing himself away from the desk, he leered at her. He liked to consider himself charitable with her, letting her get away with transgressions that would have earned anypony else a sound beating, but enough was enough. One of the first rules he’d issued to her was that she was only permitted to cum under one condition - when she was impaled upon him.

“Up,” he commanded, turning his hand and motioning with a single finger.

Scrambling out and to her feet, she stood beside him. “S…sorry about that,” she giggled while sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just really hard not to -”

“Silence,” he barked, gradually rising from his seat.

Towering over her, he kicked his chair away and circled her. Her face was charming, her hips broad, and her small size made manhandling her a trivial affair. With black stripes marking her snow-white fur, tracing around her limbs, torso, neck, and cheeks, she tracked him with her eyes. Though he hadn’t met many zebras before, only a small few in his time, he could see why the ponies of Equestria had been a bit relaxed with their duties.

Walking around to her front, he slowed when she lifted her hands and began kneading her breasts. “And you’re doing this because…?”

“I heard that - Mnnnn - if I rub them a lot, they’ll get bigger,” she explained.

If there was one complaint he had about her, it was that she may not have been the brightest - that and she was the textbook definition of a nymphomaniac. His eyes drifted down her chest, between her modest, handful-sized bosoms, over her flat abdomen, and settled on her nethers. The dark, glistening flesh of her hairless marehood, engorged and fitfully winking, clashed with the white of her coat, and she had no shame in showing it off.

Thrusting her pelvis at him, she held her hips and arched her back. “You can get a closer look if you want, sir.”

“Hmmmph,” he snorted, grabbing the arm of his chair and pulling it back before his desk.

Of all the things he’d anticipated, from assassins being sent to dispatch him to the Pillars of Harmony laying siege to his fortress, he couldn’t have predicted being tempted by sins of the flesh. Suppressing his desires, he seated himself and reached for a sealed scroll. He could indulge himself later, rutting her until she was no longer able to stand, but that could wait - or so he thought.

The chair beneath him angrily creaked, the wind was driven from his lungs, and he balked as she cast herself onto his lap and tittered. “What are you doing?”

Kicking her feet over one side of the chair, she reclined over his thighs. “I promise I’ll behave, so just pretend I’m not here.”

He went to tell her to cease her tomfoolery, that he had real work to do, but he didn’t make a sound. She’d done this more times than he dared to count since she’d arrived, enticing him to get her way, and he was virtually powerless to stop her. Battling against his impulses, he cracked the scroll’s seal and unfurled it.

“What’s that?” she chirped, squirming against him.

As his eyes read over the document, he grunted. “Seems as though the fertility rates in Equestria have increased dramatically over the last few months.”

“Fertility,” she faintly repeated. Caressing the soft flesh beneath her navel, she turned her eyes up to his face. “You should really sire an heir.”

“Perhaps in time,” he dully noted, trying and failing to ignore the plush behind grinding against his erection.

Twisting and swinging one leg upward, she slid her feet to either side of his hips and straddled him. “Why the long wait though? When you eventually conquer Equestria, you’ll need a son to leave your kingdom to.”

“Or daughter,” he flatly corrected. “Catrina, an old rival of mine, was one of the most formidable villains the world had ever seen - more so than Nightmare Moon or that Queen Chrysalis mare.”

“Oooooooooooh,” she reverently gasped. “Will you tell me about her? I recognize her name, but there wasn’t much about her in the Canterlot archives - plus I was much more interested in researching somepony specific…”

As she walked two fingers up his chest, he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. “She was a powerful witch, one of the strongest in all the land, and she, like myself, was ultimately defeated - granted, she redeemed herself in the eyes of Equestria, but she’d almost succeeded with her goals.”

“Was she as pretty as me?” Olora sighed as she locked her legs around the chair’s back, placed a hand behind her head, and dramatically reclined.

Her little display, while brazen, was thrilling in ways she couldn’t have anticipated. With a beautiful view of her bust, belly, and loins, had to will himself not to grin - unfortunately, his body betrayed him. Bowing as it flexed against her, his cock, slid through the cleft of her ass and sprang into the open. While he’d had no intention of frittering away his morning with yet another impromptu tryst, he was smart enough to know when to admit defeat.

“She wasn’t, no, but she was attractive in her own right,” he eventually mumbled, neither willing to dismiss her or acknowledge his turgid shaft..

Sensing the heat of his length against her lower lips, she looked down at his endowment and went wide-eyed. “I’ll never get tired of seeing that…”

He glided a hand around her hip and to the small of her back before pulling her up. “You say that every time…”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true!” she pouted, puffing her cheeks and furrowed her brows.

There was only so much anypony could endure before they broke - for Grogar, that moment came when she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose up. She was a petulant little thing, energetic and aggravating at times, but she was sexy and adorable in equal measure. Chuckling at himself, amused that a mere zebra had tickled his fancy in such a way, he shook his head.

“It’s not funny!” she bleated, weakly beating her fists against his pecs.

“It’s not funny, no,” he affirmed, pushing his length against her. “What is funny is that you’re somehow able to accommodate all of it as easily as you do.”

“Took a lot of practice, but it was worth it,” she mused, playfully nibbling his ear.

Cocking his head to one side, he eyed her. “Practice?”

“Not with stallions or anything, silly!” she laughed. “I told you I was saving myself for you - dildos don’t count!”

Of all the claims she’d made, the assertion that she’d been a virgin when she arrived was the most unbelievable. According to her, she’d heard of his exploits in her youth, having read about him in some dusty old tome in her homeland, and she’d obsessed about him ever since - insofar that she’d waited her entire life to give herself to him and nopony else. From what she’d said, there was some myth amongst her people about virginity, in that it could link one to a lover in some spiritual sense, though he gave the concept little regard.

He caressed her back as she gyrated against him. “Those toys of yours ~ did they adequately prepare you for the real thing?”

“Gods, no,” she theatrically lamented, plastering herself on his chest while brushing her fingers through his mane. “They were ok, sure, but nothing compared to you.”

“Hmmm,” he thoughtfully hummed.

“After you screwed my brains out that first breathtaking night, I don’t think anything would be able to satisfy me - anything but you,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “I hope you’re happy with yourself, because I’m pretty sure you ruined me for anypony else…”

An excited shiver shot through. She waxed poetic about him daily, flattering him morning, noon, and night, yet the thought that he was the only stud who could satiate her made him giddy. Staring dead at her, he wondered if this was all some carefully laid and masterfully executed ploy to seduce him.

Her eyes grew heavily-lidded, a smirk split her muzzle, and she brought her muzzle to his ear. “Wanna do it…?”

Her hot breath upon his ear was an angel’s kiss while the obscene question was like the whisper of a devil. Given a moment for pause, he considered his options. He really should have gotten back to his machinations, but was that really necessary? He’d gone this long without taking his vengeance, subjugating Equestria and reminding the ponies that he was to be feared, so a small delay, no more than an hour or so, wouldn’t change anything ~ would it?

Worming his hands under her rump, he held her to himself and stood. To Tartarus with it - he was too worked up to meaningfully devise new stratagems anyway. As he laid her down on the table, atop the map he’d toiled decades to craft, he gave her neck a small kiss - a kiss that was returned tenfold.

Pecking her way up his neck and jaw, she pressed her lips to his. Her striking good looks, raw zeal, and carefree personality were more captivating than he cared to admit, yet they were only a few of the bewitching elements she held. Sinking his tongue into her muzzle, he breathed in her scent and shuddered.

While her scent was similar to that of a ponies, it held an exotic flare. Draping himself onto her and keeping his eyes shut, he shuffled back and brought his cock-head to her entrance. The balmy heat of her marehood against him was his undoing, stripping away his reservations and making him fall like a house of cards.

It was only with a supreme exertion of determination that he was able to steadily plunge into her, driving his hips forward and gradually filling her depths. He’d thought himself a ram of experience, having sampled the amorous delights from a number of different species, but she’d taught him something new - if all Zebrican mares were as wondrous as her, he’d been missing out on some incredible sex. Halting mid way, leaving the lower portion of his shaft in the cool air, he withdrew and gazed upon her.

“Tell me,” murmured. “Tell me why you’re so infatuated with me?”

She writhed on the desk, breathing hard while hedonistically tweaking her nipples. “I…I love everything a…about you?”

“Such as?” he urged, placing a hand over her crotch to rub her clit.

“You’re j…just - Nnnnnph - so big and - Aaaaaahn - awe-inspiring,” she whimpered, trembling uncontrollably.

Was it cruel for him to question her while she weathered unfathomable bliss? Arguably, yes, however that was part of the fun - at least for him it was. Given how prone she was to flinging herself upon him, waking him up with blowjobs and going to great lengths to fuck herself on him, he felt no regret from giving her a taste of her own medicine. Sawing into her cunt, he massaged her clit.

Lifting her legs, she rested her ankles on his shoulders. “Ancestors, give me the strength to carry his foal.”

He slowed as he shifted from her face down to her abdomen. He’d witnessed all sorts of depravity in the past, although few if any perverted spectacles could rival the sight of his cock bulging out her belly. Most mares would have been begging him to stop, wailing that he was too large for them, but not her - no, being stretched to the breaking point had never failed to send her into a frenzy.

Flexing her legs and lifting her shapely little tush from the table, she bucked her hips as he thrust into her. “Right there…”

As she rubbed the area above her womb, his heart began to race. Her perpetual teasing notwithstanding, he’d never given much earnest thought to becoming a father - nevertheless, the idea of making her his broodmare and assistant was a compelling one. Pounding into her, he clutched her ankles in his hands and spread her legs further apart.

“U…use me!” she squealed. “Pretend I’m a pony bitch and knock me up!!!”

What little annoyance he had with her gave way to unbridled passion upon hearing her request. This is where she belonged, pony or not, and he was as grateful to have her as she was to act as his cock-sleeve. His balls churned, swinging and lightly smacking against her backside while his shaft throbbed. Without the use of contraceptive spellwork or potions, it wasn’t a matter of if she’d get what she wanted, but when.

The heady bouquet of her feminine musk and her constant mewling were testaments to her arousal, yet it was her marehood that truly gave her away. Constricting around him on every backstroke, her cunt yearned to take him as deeply as possible. Squaring his stance and keeping her legs held high, he buried every inch of his colossal cock into her.

She came in a blink, screaming to the heavens while her pussy spasmed and fitfully clenched his entombed length. Not only was his endowment far larger in both length and girth than the average pony’s tool, but the shape was vastly different. Instead of a blunted tip, the end of his dick was like a cruel spear, pointed and perfectly designed for maximum penetration, and he was very skilled in how he wielded it.

Sensing that he’d entered her womb, feeling her cervix clamping down on his shaft, he pulled out all the stops. It was no concern of his that she’d climaxed, nor how many times she came before he was finished, yet he did find himself dwelling on what she’d just said. He set his jaw as he picked up speed and released his full potential.

He rarely held back with her, plowing her as though she was a cheap whore, but that was for good reason - two in fact. For starters, should she truly wish to devote herself to him, she should expect to weather the full brunt of his sexual might - secondly and almost as prudently, she was one of, if not the only creatures he’d encountered who liked how rough he could get. Peering up at him with tear-streaked eyes, she smiled dementedly at him.

She may have been insane for all he knew, but she was his. Throwing himself onto her, he bit down on her right nipple and growled. Her second orgasm was just as cacophonous as the first, nearly deafening him with her piercing wail, and it fueled his passion into a raging inferno. Since she was so fanatically dedicated to him, the least he could do would be to pump a foal into her for her efforts.

On and on he went, losing himself and falling deeper and deeper into a rut-lust. Whether or not he’d ever created any bastard offspring was a genuine mystery, one he’d periodically contemplated throughout the years, although he was going to fix that. While he’d never view Olora as an equal, she’d serve as an adequate and faithful mother to carry on his lineage. Fixating on she’d look sauntering around his lair while gravid, his endurance started to wane.

The extra weight and swollen, milk-filled breasts would do wonders for her figure, and he’d be surprised if the hormones of pregnancy didn’t make her more amorous than she already was, but those were far from complaints. Reaching the threshold, beset by visions of drinking her milk and caressing the tautness of her distended belly, his attempts to stave off the inevitable were found wanting. Shifting his head and sinking his teeth into her collar, he granted her wish.

Every pulse of his cock sent a wave of rich seed into her womb while she climaxed over and over and over again. The ecstasy that consumed him was blinding, being both more potent and long lasting than a usual orgasm, and it eventually gave way to a warm, euphoric bliss. Relaxing his jaw and resting his head over her shoulder, he struggled to control his wildly pounding heart.

“Your mine now,” he wheezed.

Turning her head, she kissed his cheek. “Ditto for you!”

He blinked in disbelief, askance at what he was hearing and seeing. As unbelievable as it was, she’d already recovered from the prolific breeding she’d received - worse still, she appeared as though she was ready for a second round. Sensing his mouth go dry, he didn’t resist as she clutched his horn and angled his head to face her.

“Wanna go again?” she breathed.

The joys of youth - he’d almost forgotten about how easy it had been for his passionate nights to last from dusk until dawn. He momentarily felt the weight of centuries bearing down on him, yet her enthusiasm was infectiously invigorating. Unable to keep himself from grinning, he sighed and hung his head. If nothing else, no matter what the future had in store for him, at least he wouldn’t have to face his destiny alone…

Autumn Blaze

“Gosh, I’m nervous. Are you nervous? I mean, you’re probably not nervous, but - ya know, I don’t see how you can’t be a little nervous. Why don’t we ~ what?” Autumn quipped as she quirked a brow over at her chuckling lover.

Bibi shook her head, stepped over, and placed a hand on Autumn’s shoulder. “It will be fine,” she sighed. Shifting slightly, she turned the kirin to face a standing mirror set against the wall. “You look amazing, we’re known this day was coming for months, and you’re as ready as you’ll ever be.”

Peering at her reflection, Autumn swallowed hard. Aside from the black stripes adorning her body and cheek, she looked the same as ever. Her modest breasts, full hips, and slender physique were accentuated by the paint Bibi had applied to her, elevating her from just another kirin to a marked mare. As the fingers of one hand ran through her luscious, curly mane, her eyes wandered down to her groin.

Her marehood, in defiance of her apprehension, drooled with anticipation. Was she excited? Yes, of course she was excited. Was she ready to give herself to somepony other than her marefriend? That was a bit more complicated. While she’d slept with a number of ponies over the years, being far from a virgin at this point in her life, she’d never once been bedded by a guy.

She turned her head as Bibi rested her chin on her shoulder. “Are you sure I’m ready for this?”

“Sweetness, of course you are -” Bibi purred, “besides, we can’t forget why we’re doing this.”

Seeing the mare step away, Autumn uneasily smiled. Bibi had won her over from the moment they’d first met eyes. Tall, athletically built, and a far departure from how reserved most ponies were, the zebra was a sight to behold. She blushed as the amazoness glanced down at her abdomen, knowing full well what her lover must have been thinking.

Bibi was many things, but coy wasn’t one of them. They’d been together for nearly a year, having met shortly after the first wave of Zebricans had come to Equestria, and they’d decided it was time to bring their relationship to the next level. Hearing a noise from outside, Autumn scrunched her snout and glanced to the door.

“That may be him,” Bibi intoned. Strutting by Autumn and giving her a peck on the cheek, she smirked. “I’ll be right back.”

“O…okay,” Autumn stammered.

The moment she was left to her lonesome, her shoulders went slack. She’d done everything she could to psych herself up, having fantasized about this particular evening for weeks on end, but now that the time had arrived - well, to say she was anxious would be an understatement. Her eyes shot from the door to the bed, back to her reflection, and back to the mattress while her mind raced.

Bibi had gone to great lengths to make sure the night would be perfect, hand picking one of her regular, apparently passionate customers for the deed, but that gave her little comfort. She wasn’t bothered by the fact that her lover owned and operated a brothel on the outskirts of Sire’s Hollow, and she didn’t particularly care that she’d end up sleeping with a stallion in exchange for bits - no, the majority of her stress came from how she may or may not react to being with a living, breathing stud.

It was one thing to have Bibi don a strap-on and plow her brains out, but it was quite another to do anything with an actual stallion. Turning and pacing near the foot of the bed, she idly rubbed her slavering marehood. She’d be lying if she said she said a part of her wasn’t thrilled by the idea of worshiping some stud with her lover - then again, there was a lingering concern that she’d end up like one of those mind-broken, striped ponies who lived for Zebrican cock.

“Alright,” Bibi began, bursting in and shaking her from her thoughts, “he’s about to come in. Just breathe ~ okay?”

Autumn nodded, set her brow, and instantly grimaced. “What’s his name again?”

“Kubwa,” Bibi replied, moving to her side and expectantly facing the door. “If nothing else, follow my lead.”

Clasping her hands over her crotch, Autumn shifted from side to side. Both she and Bibi were naked, excluding the bands of dark paint over her creamy coat, and it wasn’t like she had reservations about showing herself off to somepony - nevertheless, the urge to flee grew stronger by the second. There was still time to change her mind, to escape before -

Click

The door swung open to reveal an imposing silhouette standing just outside. Stepping in and into the light, the colossus smirked at the sight of two nude, welcoming mares waiting for him. It was anypony’s guess as to how experienced he was, how many quivering, climaxing lovers he’d left in his wake, but Autumn would bet it was quite a few. Peering down from his rugged, handsome face, down his sublimely chiseled chest and abs, and to the pendulous, gradually swelling length peeking from beneath his loincloth, she gulped.

“Kubwa,” Bibi intoned, folding an arm under her breasts and giving a small, curt bow, “it’s an honor to have you in my house of ill repute.”

Mirroring her marefriend, Autumn bent forward. “It’s n…nice to meet you, s…sir…”

“Nnnnn,” he grunted as he strode over to them. Hooking a finger under Autumn’s chin, he lifted her face and gazed down upon her. “A kirin? In all my years, I’ve never experienced such an exotic beauty as one of your kind.”

Trying to keep her knees from buckling, Autumn felt her hair stand on end. “Y…yeah…?”

Ancestors preserve her - she was so totally screwed. Standing a full head taller than her, having the physique of a god, and with a stallionhood that made even her largest toys look downright laughable, he was every bit as gorgeously intimidating as she’d feared. She’d seen plenty of zebras in her day, both coming and going from Bibi’s bordello and out and about, but Kubwa was definitely one of the largest amongst them.

“Indeed,” he rumbled, his voice rich and sonorous. Inching back a hair, he leaned in and brought his face to her eye level. “And you are…?”

Autumn’s mouth flapped noiselessly as she peered into the titan’s eyes. He looked incredible, his deep tone set her heart fluttering, and the subtle smell of sweat and musk rolling off of him spoke to the most primal portions of her brain. Unsure of that to say or do, vaguely aware that she’d just been asked something, she flinched when a hand patted her on the back.

“Her name is Autumn Blaze,” Bibi coolly responded. “Forgive her, she’s a bit new with all of this.”

Straightening up, Kubwa chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize. With a face and body as wondrous as hers, there’s no need for her to speak.”

“Autumn,” Bibi softly murmured, “perhaps we should introduce ourselves.”

“Huh?” Autumn coughed. Following her marefriend’s gaze down to Kubwa’s hardening endowment, she sensed her marehood clench. “R…right.”

Slowly getting to her knees alongside Bibi, she shuffled closer to the giant. In the blink of an eye, as soon as Kubwa untied his loincloth and let his flutter to the ground, she faltered. The hint of his scent clinging to her nostrils was overtaken by the most alluring aroma while the unabashed view of his package made the breath hitch in her throat.

Her training - she had to remember all the training she’d done for this. For the past few days, ever since this pivotal juncture had been finalized, she and Bibi had done what they could to prepare. Moving in almost perfect unison with her lover, she extended an arm, cradled one of Kubwa’s plump, heavy balls, and drifted to one side of the monstrous length twitching before her.

She moved in harmony with Bibi, if only with the slightest delay, and brought her free hand to his stallionhood. The big lug’s cock was the definition of gargantuan, too huge to stand under its own weight, and simply touching it evoked a curious cocktail of emotions. Fear, exhilaration, and uncertainty all vied for dominance - that was until she looked across the throbbing shaft in her palm.

Peeking over at her, with her face partially obscured by the ebony length, Bibi’s eyes spoke volumes. Unlike herself, her marefriend was a bit more open to being with stallions, which was one of the reasons her business was as successful as it was, and she was immeasurably thankful for it. Having somepony she could rely on, to show her what to do, bolstered her confidence by leaps and bounds.

“Such a divine gift the heavens gave you, sir,” Bibi intoned, running her hand along the underside of his shaft.

Autumn nodded then remembered she wasn’t supposed to stay quiet. “It’s p…pretty big.”

Looking down at her, he cocked his head. “Larger than a kirin’s?”

“I - heh,” she laughed. “Not like I’ve got a ruler, but…”

Going off script, she lifted one arm and held it against his dick. She’d never measured a kirin’s endowment before - in fact, this was the first time she’d ever touched any endowment before, but she knew good and gosh darn well that he would give even the biggest equine a run for their money. Long, thick, and with velvety flesh around a hard but pliable core, Kubwa’s tool wasn’t far off from being a third leg.

His dick jerked in approval, leaping up before falling back into Bibi’s palm. Buck - this was way, way hotter than it had any right to be. Though she’d never had any interest in stallions, even after she’d had a few drinks, she could see the appeal of having a big, beefy stud like this. Glancing over at her marefriend, she brought her muzzle to the side of his shaft, gave it a small kiss, and closed her eyes.

She hadn’t been particularly pleased when Bibi had suggested they record their little adventure that evening, but she was interested to see her and her marefriend in action. Squatted down and flanking Kubwa’s tool, they ran their tongues up and down his length. While she would have dwelled on the thought of how she must have looked, the taste of bare flesh against her tongue sent her mind into a tailspin.

Salty, earthy, and the slightest bit bitter, the flavor of stallionhood was nothing like what she’d expected it would be. She’d always assumed that cock would taste bad, dirty or off-putting, yet it was anything but unpleasant - if anything, it only added to her growing lust. Turning her head and hungry for more, she dragged her lips toward the drooling tip of his length.

If his skin tasted good, how incredible would his pre-cum be? Determined to broaden her horizons, she adjusted her position ever so slightly and brought her snout to his cock-head. His hum of approval was the icing on the cake, complimenting just how hard he’d gotten for her, and she wasn’t going to let the opportunity to prove herself slip through her fingers - at least, she hadn’t planned on it.

Seconds from making out with his dick, she whimpered when something warm and wet latched to her nipple. Inspired by her actions, or perhaps hoping to boost her confidence and fan the flames, Bibi affectionately sucked her teat while rubbing her aching marehood. This was bad - really, really bad. Serving a stallion wasn’t necessarily the hardest thing she’d ever done, but doing so while weathering the lecherous onslaught of her lover would only make things more difficult - insanely pleasurable and hotter than Tartarus, but difficult all the same.

Fighting through her bliss, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue. More from pride than anything else, she was going to fulfill her duties - that and there was another element at play. She cherished Bibi with all her heart, but the mare could be quite impish at times. There was no guarantee that her lover was doing anything to intentionally throw her off, but her gut and the playful giggle around her nipple told her otherwise.

As unfathomable as it was, even without Bibi toying with her, kneeling before Kubwa felt right. On a fundamental level, this was where mares belonged, supplicating themselves before a strong, virile male. Shivering in delight as a pair of slender digits caressed her winking clit, she tongued the blunt cock-head against her lips and groaned.

Bibi’s torment was fleeting, lasting just enough to titillate her, before she withdrew and joined her lover. Acting in harmony, she and Autumn made out with one another and the bloated tip of stallionhood between them. Their dedication to one another was palpable - so much so that they were able to share their affection with the titan looming over them.

Glancing down Kubwa’s length, Autumn gradually shifted her focus to the stallion. It would have been impossible for her to truly suck him off, only ever having fellated a significantly smaller dildo on a small number of occasions, yet she was compelled to at least try. As she gingerly pushed Bibi to the side and made some room for herself, she fully faced the colossus.

Both zebras were beyond patient, remaining silent and allowing her to move at her own pace. Whether or not Bibi had told him about her, that she’d yet to become intimate with a stallion, was a mystery - regardless, he silently watched as she worked her lips around his flare. Slowly bobbing her head, she looked up and stifled a gag.

While her spirit was willing, and she’d become more enthused than she could have predicted, zeal alone wouldn’t be enough for the herculean task of properly blowing somepony so insanely well-hung. She’d only managed to get a few inches of his stallionhood into her muzzle, and she felt like her jaw had been pushed to its limit - worse still, she’d only managed to take a fraction of his length into her snout. Glancing down his shaft, she defiantly rammed her head forward to test her limits.

It was oddly electrifying to have a stallionhood in her maw. The sight of him towering above her would have been daunting, but Bibi’s company was a soothing, arousing balm. Accosted by her mate, savoring the sensation of slender hands running over her body, she filled her lungs and steeled herself.

She clamped her eyes shut as she forced Kubwa’s shaft down her gullet. Her eyes watered, her chest heaved, and a pang of fear struck her like a gong, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. For a neophyte like herself, attempting to throat something so huge was foolish - still, she continued onward.

It was only when she sensed her neck bulging and lungs burning did she relent and back away - even then, she didn’t quit entirely. Torquing and twisting her head from side to side, she moaned around him. Her hope was that she’d impress both Bibi and Kubwa, showing that she was taking her task seriously, although that motivation was gradually replaced by her desire to get him off.

She couldn’t explain it - heck, she couldn’t even understand it herself, but she wanted to satisfy him. He was just so big, his mere presence and cool demeanor as commanding as his powerful build and stature, that he deserved to have somepony tending to his needs. With his cock-head in her muzzle, she clutched and stroked the base of his shaft with both hands.

“She’s much more eager than I would have thought,” Kubwa mused as his eyes swept from Autumn to Bibi. “Are you sure she prefers the company of mares?”

“I am, sir,” Bibi tittered, “and it’s my hope you don’t change that.”

Chuckling lightly, Kubwa remained motionless. “We shall see. For me to sow my seed within a mare who chooses another over me is both humbling and confusing, but its of no consequence. After I’m through with her, your mate will bear a fine zebra foal for the both of you.”

As Autumn listened to the conversation, hearing the two speak about her as though she wasn’t there, her depths seized. There were few things in life she truly yearned for, but starting a family with Bibi was one of them. Pulling back and clearing her muzzle, fighting the urge to cough, she wiped spittle from her chin and looked between the pair of striped beauties.

“C…can we,” she croaked, stopping herself.

She genuinely didn’t want to rush things, but the talk of her bearing a foal for Bibi drove her absolutely, positively wild. Images of herself flitting about her house, gravid and with engorged, milk-filled breasts, assailed her mind. Though she’d always done her best to contribute to her relationship with Bibi, working hard and helping with bills, she knew - knew her destiny was to be a homemaker and mother.

“Yes?” Kubwa softly pressed.

Slipping a glance to Bibi, she nodded and rose. There was nothing stopping her from asking to move things forward, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words - plus she knew herself well enough to realize she’d likely start rambling if she opened her muzzle. She turned and seated herself on the foot of the bed, saw she held the two zebras attention, and reclined onto her back.

Kubwa grinned as she grabbed her ankles and spread her legs for him. “How very forward.”

“She’s a fearless one, I’ll give her that,” Bibi breathed, standing and sauntering to the bedside, “and that’s one reason why I love her.”

Peering up at Bibi, Autumn felt blood rush to her cheeks. “Love you too.”

“Such a magnificent couple,” Kubwa muttered as he walked over and took Autumn’s ankles in his hands. “It would be my utmost privilege to assist the both of you.”

“T…thank you,” Autumn sputtered.

Stepping in and resting his stallionhood against her, she froze. Feeling the weight of his endowment and simply seeing how massive he was compared to her gave her a moment for pause. The tip of his length nearly came up to her sternum, well past her belly button, and he was thicker than her wrist.

All her reservations came roaring back with a vengeance. More anxious than ever, she started when her face was gently turned to the side. Bibi smiled above her, their faces only inches apart, and she smiled back. She was still nervous as all get-out, but having her lover there eased her worry.

“Deep breath,” Bibi urged before locking lips with her.

Autumn inhaled sharply as she kissed Bibi. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel Kubwa getting into position. The battering ram-like head of his stallionhood bore against her entrance, pressing harder and harder as the seconds steadily passed. How anypony, even the sluttiest mare, could accommodate, much less enjoy something so enormous was beyond her, but then she saw the light. Just as she began to doubt she’d be able to handle him, she was impaled.

Any discomfort she felt was consumed by a crushing wave of bliss. She howled into Bibi’s maw, her limbs trembling and stuffed marehood gushing climactic nectar, while her mind reeled. How - how was this possible? She hadn’t even been close to cumming, yet he’d made her orgasm simply by penetrating her.

Breaking their kiss, Bibi stroked her face. “That good ~ eh?”

“Y…yuh,” she unintelligibly responded.

She was barely able to think, let alone speak or move - fortunately for her, Kubwa was ready and able to do the heavy lifting. Holding her legs up and apart, he slowly, almost sensually sank into her. Inch after impossibly thick inch filled her, stretching her open like nothing ever had, until the broad tip of his dick bore against her cervix.

Gliding a hand over Autum’s breasts and to her abdomen, Bibi snickered. “You handled him quite well. I was -”

“H…holy cow!” Autumn bleated.

Peeking downward, she snapped from her stupor when she saw the unmistakable imprint of Kubwa’s stallionhood within her. She’d heard some outlandish stories about mares taking incredibly large objects or lovers, but she’d never given them much credit - not until now. The silhouette of the mammoth cock buried in her was unmistakable, so vivid that she could clearly make out its crown and medial ring, and it left her at a loss for words.

She could have - would have marveled at the sight of herself for quite some time, although the bolts of rapture that shrieked through when he gradually withdrew and thrust back into her were mind-melting. All but convulsing on the mattress, she clawed at the sheets while weathering the amorous siege. They’d only been at it for a minute or so, yet she could already feel a second climax building within her.

“Here,” Bibi cooed, “let me help…”

Autumn tried to stop her lover, but it was too late. In an all but literal flash, her marefriend pounced. Her clit was gingerly rubbed, one breast was sucked, and her other nipple was delicately twisted and pulled - all while Kubwa fell into a steady rhythm of plowing her. Set upon by not one by two zebras, she howled in raw, unfettered ecstasy.

This was lunacy. They’d only just started - actually started, but she’d cum twice and was hurtling toward a third orgasm. Her rapturous howl filled the air and rang in her ears. Bibi could make her climax easily, typically with little effort whatsoever, but the two-pronged attack of the zebras was more than she could bear on any conceivable level.

With his balls beating against her tush, he lifted her lower half from the mattress. “She sings beautifully…”

“That she does,” Bibi intoned. “Allow me to quiet her…”

Autumn’s wails were silenced when Bibi swung a leg over her seated herself on her face. The balmy heat of the zebra’s loins was ambrosial and, despite her mindless state, elicited an automatic response. Her hands shot upwards and clasped her lover’s thighs as she plunged her tongue into the sweltering, velvety marehood above her.

The scene was one of utter depravity, a lone kirin overwhelmed by a duo of striped deities, one rutting her while the other sat on her face, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a porno. While Bibi and Kubwa had Autumn at their mercy, they were anything but ruthless. Their motions were smooth and calculated, almost as if they were designed to break the hapless mare, although they weren’t immune to their own urges.

Bit by bit, the zebras increased their pace. Bibi rolled her hips forward and back, slathering Autumn’s muzzle with her juices, while Kubwa’s thrusts came harder and faster. Their carnal might was incalculable, far and away from what a native Equestrian could withstand, and it wrought havoc upon the poor mare trapped beneath them.

After her fifth or sixth climax, Autumn lost track of how many times she’d been swept up by the tides of ecstasy. No matter how many times she convulsed and came, weeping tears of joy into Bibi’s cunt while convulsing and gushing uncontrollably, the pair went on seemingly without end. Had she been laying there for hours or days? Honestly, she couldn’t say, but things ultimately came to their inevitable, unavoidable end.

Sensing Kubwa flaring within her, the head of his cock beating against her womb, she braced herself for the inevitable - sadly, nothing could have prepared her for what was to come. Giving one final, unstoppable thrust, the stud buried every inch of his length into her. Her foal-factory was despoiled, yielding in a heartbeat, and the bliss she endured when he filled her, flooding her with his essence, was incalculable.

She could feel it, the unending flow of his seed questing for her eggs, and she welcomed it. Try as she might, struggling to remain conscious, it was a battle she couldn’t win. Rocked to her very core, with her eyes opened to what true pleasure was, she succumbed to her rapture. The final thoughts to grace her before oblivion overtook her were those of her and her family to be, of Bibi and their foals, and she smiled as she was taken a deep, well-earned sleep.

Though she had no way of knowing how long she’d slumbered, she awoke to a taste of paradise. Bibi lay to her right, and Kubwa to her left, and she lay sandwiched between the pair. She smiled wearily while basking in the warmth and comfort they afforded. This was the beginning of a new chapter in her life, the start of something new and amazing, and she had both of them to thank for it. Silently stroking her abdomen, envisioning the life blossoming within her, she gave a long, contented sigh. At long last, she’d finally have a family to call her own…

Vinyl

Peering through her mirrored shades, Vinyl placed her hand and flipped a switch on her turntable as the cameramare nodded over at her. A fog machine kicked on, the lights dimmed, and prismatic lasers cut through the gloom. Now that everything was ready, it was time to begin.

She began slowly, bobbing her head while Coloratura’s song Black and White filled the air. The extras on set turned their eyes to her, but she paid them little mind. It was rare enough for her to make a genuine music video, vastly preferring to entertain in person at concerts or the occasional party, so she wasn’t going to screw this up.

As the lyrics played and hit a certain beat, she flicked a switch and put herself to task. She was a DJ, one of the best in Equestria, and it was time to work her magic. The soft tunes took a jarring turn, blended with electronic effects and mixed with the subtle, almost imperceptible sounds of throaty moans and hard breathing.

Black and White was an inspired work, lamenting the underwhelming nature of pony stallions while waxing poetic about the divine nature of striped studs, and it was an all time favorite of hers. Her hands spun over the board, adjusting dials and sliders as they went, until they came to the soundboard. If listeners weren’t clued in as to what her remix would involve already, they would be soon enough.

“He’s so big…”

She shivered hearing the voice, a sample she’d gotten from one of Sweetie Belle’s older films. Waiting for a split second, she slid her thumb over to another button. Mixing was an art, one which required a keen ear and a firm grasp of timing, so she tapped a foot, held her breath, and pressed down at precisely the right moment.

“Silly pony colts…”

A rush of adrenaline surged through her. That particular soundbite was from an anonymous fan of hers, but she could imagine the situation that had elicited it. Some mare, possibly even a married one, had finally accepted that ponies weren’t nearly as good as they thought they were - at least, not the overwhelming majority of them.

“Give me that big…”

She gnawed her bottom lip.

“Zebra…”

Her marehood clenched and drooled within her panties.

“Cock…”

Her fingers danced, the bass dropped, and the lights overhead switched from a warm orange to ultraviolet. The extras rose from their seats, not one having taken their eyes off her the entire time, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t pay them any mind. With her heart starting to race, fueled by the music and the thrill of what was to come, she threw a hand up and started to wave with the rhythm.

She couldn’t see them clearly, nor did she glance up to check on them, but she could tell that the cameras were starting to move. Her audience - well, the audience she was going to have once the video was edited and uploaded, would probably be at a loss at this point. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to wear garish outfits, the sort of things she’d fashion from stuff she picked up at a thrift shop, yet the attire she now wore was nothing short of slatternly.

The metallic sheen of her thong was visible from beneath her micro skirt, her fishnet shirt only barely managed to keep her skimpy bikini from slipping free of her swaying breasts, and the vest she’d had custom tailored had a small surprise. Unable to keep a grin from playing across her muzzle, she tapped a control on her deck and set a pre-programmed portion of the remix to play.

Normally, her videos consisted of shots of her scratching and mixing interspersed with segments of various films or even video games, but not this time - this time, she was going to take a much, much more active role. As she turned on one heel and lifted her hands, the song’s tempo shifted.

There were a number of reasons she was partial to Coloratura’s newest work. Her fellow musician’s recent albums had been an absolute banger, her style had become much more energetic, and she was one of the few mares bold enough to speak the truth. Pony stallions could be pretty decent in bed, if they were well-hung enough and knew what they were doing, but they couldn’t hold a candle to even the most inexperienced Zebrican.

Strutting through the haze, she spun, smirked back at the camera, and hitched her thumbs over her shoulders. Emblazoned on her denim vest was a stylized spade with a bejeweled Z directly over its center. The letter and symbol were innocent enough in and of themselves, but together - together they took on an entirely different meaning.

She stuck out her tongue and flipped a dual, one-finger salute as the extras circled her. Gone were the days of her feigning innocence, sheltering her desires and what she really thought about ponies, and now everypony was going to know it. As a set of thick, calloused fingers took her by the chin, her eyes shot to one of her many costars.

While she didn’t know anything about her fellow performers’ names, she knew they’d all play their parts flawlessly. Each stud was younger than her, bigger than her, and covered in beautiful black stripes. The moment the hunky zebras had heard her what she was proposing, they’d gleefully agreed to her little coming clean event.

Coming clean - that was too fucking funny. Was she going to air out some laundry? Yeah, there was no doubt about that. Would it be a thing that wasn’t messy about it? Not if she had anything to say about it. Shoving the stallion away and giggling like a schoolfilly, she threw her arms back and let her vest fall to the floor.

Lasers flew around her and the lights strobed before a lone, blue spotlight ignited overhead. This was her time, a pre-chorus of sorts, so the zebras restrained themselves and backed away. She moved with the beat, her body flowing like water and skirt flapping while she spun. Putting on a show never failed to give her a rush, although this was a far departure from the norm for her.

There was something about music that amplified her feelings, be they for good or ill, and this occasion was no exception - if anything, it was even stronger than ever. Her nipples were rock hard, she was sopping wet, and she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. What she was doing - rather, what she would be doing is insane, yet she was positively ecstatic.

Sliding a thumb over the waistband of her skirt and popping its buttons, she sent the garment sailing to the side. The zebras chuckled while keeping their distance and allowed her to continue. She didn’t slow as she weaved a finger under her shirt, hooked her bikini over her digit, and wrenched her arm to one side.

The top of her two-piece, unlike typical swimwear, had been made specifically for this video - as such, a single button was all that secured it to her frame. The article flew off set, landing near one of the stagehands and leaving her breasts all but bare. She wasn’t technically naked, still clad in her fishnets and g-string, but that would change soon enough.

Stopping on a dime, she faced the largest stud and plastered herself against his chest. The heat radiating from his chiseled pecs was stirring, as was the lustful glint in his eyes, though it was the smell wafting off his adonic body that truly inspired her. She’d asked them all to hit the gym before showing up, ensuring they’d worked up a sweat, and they’d all been more than willing to oblige her.

As she gradually sank into a squat, dragging her face down his chest and over his rippling abs, he kept his hands to his sides. The lower she went, the stronger a heady aroma became - the stronger the heady aroma became, the more difficult it became to control herself. Was she really going to do this? Could she really do this? Would she be throwing her career away once this hit the net? In the end, driven by her passion and an undeniable need, she was ready to roll the dice.

She fought the urge to unfasten his belt with her teeth while she reached up to loosen his pants. While this wasn’t a play, it was still a production. Everypony had their part, they’d practiced a handful of times, and deviating would be a monumental waste of time - doubly so, given the final act. Opening the front of his jeans, she lazily drew his fly downward to reveal his boxers.

“Give it to me…”

The verse was a cue, and it was her final chance to change her mind. If she kept going, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold herself back for much longer - if she stopped, she could retain the career she’d spent a lifetime creating. Caving to her lust and her longing to change, to finally be the mare she yearned to be, she wormed her hand into his pants and felt the long, hard, hot length lurking within.

She leaned back slightly while steadily pulling inch after obsidian inch of his stallionhood free. One thing they’d skipped during the rehearsals was everything after this moment, although that was for good reason. A mare, any mare, would only pull out a Zebrican’s cock for one reason, and it wasn’t simply for fun.

Marveling at his size, she licked her lips. The stud was huge, packing a dick that would give even a seasoned mare a run for her money, and he wasn’t alone. Shuffling forward while fiddling with their pants or shorts, the other zebras presented their endowments. Surrounded by a sextet of the finest stallionhoods she’d ever seen, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue.

“Fuck pony bitches! Fuck - fuck pony bitches!”

The lyric was a double entendre, though she wasn’t sure if her listeners or viewers would fully appreciate it. On a superficial level, the line was bluntly prompting Zebrican studs to bag pony mares for themselves - on a less obvious note, it was a stab at pony stallions. Lifting the enormous stallionhood to her muzzle, she fought back a laugh.

She almost felt bad for pony stallions - then again, a good number of them had come to embrace their servile nature. Equestrians, be they pegasi, unicorns, or earth ponies, were right to accept their role in the natural order of things; zebras were simply superior, larger and better in every imaginable way, and submitting to them was its own reward. She turned her eyes up as she wrapped her lips around the stud’s cock-head, overjoyed that she’d taken the next big step in her life.

Salty and earth flavors coated her tongue, yet she couldn’t savor them - not completely. Blindly raising her hands, she presented her palms for two of her costars. If she could control herself in front of an audience of hundreds, entertaining a mere half-dozen stallions shouldn’t be that difficult.

Bobbing her head and sucking off one stud, she stroked off the pair flanking her. This may not have been particularly intimate for sex, more akin to a scene from a porno, but it was right up her alley. She was a bombastic mare, prone to livening up the place wherever she went, and that same energy extended to her videos.

Honestly, she’d fallen in love with zebras from the second she’d first bedded one. Their scent, the way they tasted, and how they fucked like animals, screwing her until she could barely stand, was mind-blowing. Forcing her head forward, she quickly drew a breath before filling her gullet.

The studs snickered all the while, bucking their hips and using her like a cheap whore, which only added to her excitement. She was a star, nearly a household name, but that meant nothing to the striped titans looming over her. Having done well so far, holding herself back as she sucked the stallion off at a leisurely pace, her composure took a ruinous blow as a hand clutched the back of her head.

Hauled forward, she sheathed the entirety of massive cock in her snout. Even though she couldn’t breathe, her airway filled completely by dick, the musk of his sweaty loins lingered in her sinuses. With her part to play over, if only for the time being, it was the studs’ time to shine.

The zebras lead, the colossus she was blowing, flashed his teeth as he started to fuck her face. He’d been given the green light to be as rough as he wanted, as had his friends, and he was quick to exercise that right. Using Vinyl’s ears as handlebars, he plowed her muzzle in tune with the song’s rhythm.

Vinyl quietly gagged around the pistoning length, making more noise than she ever had on a shoot, while she jacked off the stallions at her sides. As drops of glimmering nectar dripped from her crotch, creating a small, cooling pool on the floor beneath her, her marehood winked within its sodden confines. Every instinct she had screamed at her to finger herself, to get some sort of relief, yet all of her effort was lent to pleasing the giants around her.

She’d had one-on-one experiences with zebras, a few threesomes, and even endured a gangbang with a trio of Zebrican stallions on one occasion - that being said, even with the considerable amount of experience she did have, she may have bitten off more than she could chew. With her thoughts running wild, she blinked away a tear. This was bad, but not in a way she’d anticipated. While the studs were playing their part perfectly, her inhibitions were crumbling under the unfathomable weight of her raging libido.

Saliva and pre-cum ran down to her chin as her vision started to blur. Though she was far from a virgin, getting more action than most mares, the sheer vehemence of her lovers took her completely off guard. She’d thought they’d take it slightly easy on her, given that they were being filmed for a professionally edited and officially released video, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Driven forward and back, she walked the tightrope of what she should be doing and what she wanted to be doing. If she had her way, and she was beginning to wish she did, she would skip ahead a scene or two and get straight to the dirty business - sadly, she was in no position to do anything other than choke on cock.

The song played on while the ache in her marehood grew worse and worse - still, she kept her hands on the pair of stallionhoods she was clutching. Time - it was only a matter of time until the crescendo and some sweet, well-earned relief, yet the wait was torturous. Feeling as though she was about to go mad, she coughed out a sigh of relief when the monstrous length was hauled from her snout.

“Spread ‘em, bitch…”

Her ears perked up and her heart skipped a beat. Shit - she’d nearly missed the signal! Bolting to her feet, she pushed her way past the small gang of zebras and sauntered back to her turntable. As she bent over and arched her back, fully prepared to get railed out, a faint cough crept to her ear.

She glanced to the side, spotted the director scowling over at her, and scrunched her snout. Celestia damn it - she almost forgot! Before she actually got plowed, she was supposed to get fondled and felt up by the studs. All but gnashing her teeth, she willed the grimace from her face and straightened back up.

The studs closed in and pinned her between them as their hands wandered over her body. Fingers ran over her nipples and breasts, her marehood was tenderly caressed, and hot breaths tickled her ears. She’d been on the verge of snapping moments prior, purely from having her throat swabbed, so the fondling and affection drove her up a wall.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to last. It took everything she had to let herself be felt up, smiling and trembling like a leaf in the wind, yet she managed to stay relatively still. It wasn’t until one of the stallions, a particularly intrepid one, slipped a finger into her panties to rub her cunt.

Fuck it - fuck all of it. After the groping, she was set to be laid down and taken missionary on her DJ booth, but that wasn’t going to happen. Going completely off script, she threw her ass back against the stud behind her. She would probably catch hell for this later, but she could live with that - after all, the worst she’d have to endure is a re-shoot.

‘Breed me,’ she mouthed in perfect harmony with the blaring song.

There were occasions when she had to ad lib, working on the fly when equipment malfunctioned or things went awry - this was one of those times. The lip syncing was flawless, matching the music as if she’d sung it herself, and it worked perfectly. Without skipping a beat, the stallion at her back grabbed her hips and kissed his cock-head to her slavering entrance.

Seizing the reins, as well as the table before her, she swung her hips and impaled herself. The move was impetuous, borne from a ravenous thirst to be filled, and it was her undoing. Enthusiasm and lechery were all well and good, yet having her depths go from empty and wanting to completely and utterly stuffed sent her mind into a tailspin.

The stallion thrust, setting her off balance to topple over her table and equipment. She gasped and her eyes shot wide as her womb was smashed by the immense stallionhood entombed within her taut, quaking depths. Grappling with the overwhelming pleasure surging through her, relishing the sensation of a fat pair of balls resting against her clit, she failed to notice the stud stepping around to her head.

In the blink of an eye, her arms were seized and pulled back. Even if she’d wanted to get back to the routine she’d spent the last few weeks preparing for, she wouldn’t have been able to - not like she particularly cared to at this point. Having a monstrous cock sheathed in her needy cunt never failed to derail her thoughts, and it wasn’t like she just had one of the massive things to worry about.

As a second dick glided over her tongue and into her maw, her eyes rolled back. One small silver lining was that her turntable was on autopilot, playing the track she’d started without issue, although that was the least of her concerns. Regardless of where she was, what she was doing, or who was watching, she would be hard pressed not to serve a zebra who’d set his sights on her.

Putting her lips, tongue, and marehood to work, she milked the duo spit-roasting her. It was impossible for her to tell what the production crew was thinking or doing, only being able to see the striped six pack of the hunk who was balls-deep in her snout, but she had to presume they were enjoying the show. Though things had gone wildly off script, nopony had yelled for a cut or stopped the ongoing depravity - plus it wasn’t like the entire affair wasn’t going to end in sex anyways.

The shoot was going to conclude with her riding one of the stallions on the couch, but there was no way that was going to happen now. Vinyl was in uncharted waters, effectively being used by two of the six cast members, and what would happen next was anypony’s guess. Her chest heaved and throat spasmed as the stud in her trembling confines ground his medial ring against her g-spot.

Fuck - though she’d only just started, being screwed for a few minutes at most, she was already about to cum. Warmth blossomed in her abdomen, her marehood winked uncontrollably, and her knees threatened to buckle. This wasn’t anything particularly new for her, always reaching her limit at a breakneck pace with striped studs, yet the thrill of being filmed and the notion that everypony would see her true colors heightened her pleasure by an order of magnitude.

Dwelling on how some young mare would watch this someday and possibly be inspired to find a Zebrican lover of her own was the final nail in her coffin. She sputtered violently, sending flecks of spittle and pre-cum onto the stud’s thighs while a climax overtook her. Her mind short circuited, unable to cope with the unimaginable ecstasy that robbed her of her strength. She’d done it, she’d graduated from disk jockey to porn star, and things weren’t even close to being finished.

While her gushed orgasmic juices to the floor, painting her inner thighs and heels, the stallions ravaged her. It was abundantly clear that they prioritized their needs over her comfort, treating her as little more than a toy for their amusement, yet that was part of the appeal. Being objectified, used and ruthlessly fucked, was what she was made for - what every mare was made for in her opinion.

Her eyes bulged as the stallionhood lodged in her throat flared and pulsed. Gouts of seed surged into her stomach, so deep that she couldn’t even taste it, as the cock battering her womb swelled and locked into place. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t stop what was coming - nevertheless, the sensation of sweltering foal-batter flooding her depths was positively divine.

Acting in concert, as if they’d conspired for this very moment, the studs wrenched their throbbing lengths free to paint her face, back, and ass. Ropes of white clashed with the neon of her attire, painting her as she weakly coughed and filled her burning lungs. Many mares in her place would have felt humiliated, not for the least of which reasons being that she was being recorded, yet all she felt was pride.

Pulled up and to her feet, given no time to recover, she was turned and lifted into the air. One of the stallions, presumably one who’d been waiting his turn, picked her up and hooked his arms under her legs. It wasn’t the first time she’d been locked into such an obscene position, her back to his chest with her nethers shamelessly displayed for any and all to see, however she hadn’t expected to feel the dick she was suspended above to prod her backdoor.

She went to tell him to stop, that she wasn’t that inexperienced with anal, yet the only thing to escape her lips while he buried his shaft in her ass was a guttural groan. This was new, a level of depravity she hadn’t foreseen, and it left her at a loss for words. Only vaguely aware of movement in front of her, she falteringly turned her head and watched as a second stud stepped up and filled her needy, gaped cunt.

Pinned between the pair, she howled in demented glee. The video she’d intended to produce was by no means safe for work, but this - this made some pornos look tame. She was covered in cum, her pucker and marehood were pushed to their limit, and she teetered on the brink of rapturous madness - in short, she was in heaven.

It was hard for her to keep track of everything that happened, weathering one climax after another, and the exact details of what happened were lost on her. One minute, she was getting double-penetrated by two of the striped beefcakes - the next, she was riding somepony while hungrily sucking a cock. The entire affair was like a dream, hazy and enthralling, yet it eventually came to an end.

Finding herself on the floor, she unsteadily propped herself on one arm while wiping a cocktail of tears, saliva, and jizz from her face. Every part of her ached, and she knew she’d be sore in the morning, but the contentment of what she’d done eclipsed any discomfort of self-doubt. Lifting her gaze and spotting a camera trained at her, she smiled and gave a shaky thumbs up.

As the camera crew and staff nodded to one another, lowering their equipment and bringing towels onto the set, her thoughts drifted. There weren’t many mares who were as bold or reckless as her, laying everything on the line for a whim, although there was one in particular that had inspired her - one she had the honor of calling a friend. Musing on where Octavia was and what she was doing, she snickered and wondered what her fellow musician would think of her latest, to-be hit…

Octavia

Breathe - just breathe. It was the only thing Octavia could do for the time being, so she did just that. The latex encasing her was stifling, dulling her senses and rendering her unable to see, though she’d grown used to it over time. As she listened to the lilting, almost soothing orchestral music echoing through the chamber, her mind wandered back to when she’d taken the plunge.

She’d always been quite the accomplished cellist, having worked hard from the time she’d first heard the melodic instrument as a filly, and she’d earned every ounce of her acclaim, yet the routine of it all had eventually grown dull. Performing at prestigious galas and amphitheaters, events that once thrilled her to no end, had become the norm. She still loved to play for ponies, and was particularly elated when young fans told her that they wished to follow in her footsteps, although the realization that she wasn’t getting any younger, and that her life wasn’t nearly as thrilling as it once had been, had spurred her to mix things up.

It hadn’t been a year ago that she’d decided to make a change, yet the nature of that change had taken her by surprise. On an evening like any other, chosen purely by happenstance, she’d visited a club - a somewhat infamous little dive where naughty ponies went to slake their amorous desires in front of an audience. While she’d simply planned on spectating at first, curious and aroused by the provocative displays of the bold participants, she had ended up doing much more than simply observe.

She hadn’t known the stallion’s name, but she would never forget him. Tall, adonic, and with a rich, sonorous voice, the Zebrican mountain of a stud had struck up a conversation while two ponies made love on stage. It had been a bit jarring to casually chat with a perfect stranger throughout an exhibitionistic show, although his honeyed words, charming good looks, and forward nature had won her over with ease.

Before she knew it, she found herself being led to the dias by her newfound, striped acquaintance. The way he touched her had been phenomenal, caressing her in ways that no stallion ever had, and the fact that she was stripped and made love to before a crowd only made the exchange all the more electrifying. That singular moment, being taken and ravished by somepony she’d never seen before nor ever seen since, had been transformative in every sense of the word.

Her first trip to the club was followed by a second, then a third and a fourth, until she was visiting regularly. Every night had been different, with some being more obscene than others, although none had eclipsed her first performance with her mysterious zebra lover. Maybe it was because the Zebrican had cast a light on a side of herself that she hadn’t known existed, or perhaps it was because he was easily one of the most gifted paramours she’d ever had - in either case, it sent her on a quest of hedonistic self-discovery.

Things had started innocently enough at first, seeking out zebras over native Equestrians, although it wasn’t long until even striped studs weren’t enough to fully satisfy her. Her carnality, a facet of herself that had been long neglected, was unleashed, and she quickly learned that it was a ravenous beast. Entertaining two stallions in tandem had served her well for a time, as had gradually introducing bondage elements into her shows, but they weren’t enough - they were never enough.

It had been a maddening period to suffer through, like having an itch she couldn’t quite scratch fully, and it, paired with the concerns of her friends, had led her to withdraw and reflect on what she was doing with herself. She’d been having fun, she wouldn’t deny that, but her professional career had suffered because of it. There’d been engagements she’d turned down, including several in the Crystal Empire and at least one at the Canterlot castle itself, and it ultimately led her to an impasse ~ would she be willing to trade her accomplishments as a musician for her amorous wants?

Though she’d assumed the question wasn’t one which was easily answered, the solution she’d come to was as elegant as it was simple. There was a way that she could kill two birds with one stone, making a living for herself while simultaneously gratifying her lecherous desires, yet it came with a cost. In what was both the best and worst decision she’d ever made, she’d abandoned her musical art for one that was positively sinful.

She wouldn’t deny that she loved sex, having practically become an addict for it, and the depths of her depravity were as vast and bottomless as the sea - still, she held herself to a particularly high standard. Her first step was to invest in a space for her perverted pursuits, buying a derelict factory on the outskirts of Fillydelphia - next, she spent over a month refurbishing and remodeling the interior. The work had been hard, her bank accounts had been almost entirely drained, and she’d risked everything she had on a gamble, but it had paid off - by Celestia, had it ever paid off.

Kink clubs and peep shows weren’t as uncommon as they used to be, but her palace was a cut above the rest. Balanced on the razored edge of lust and art, her business elevated sexual fetishism to a medium all its own. Ponies traveled from continents away to spectate or participate in her exhibits, freed from any judgment from the second they stepped through her door, and she’d become rich beyond her wildest dreams practically overnight.

Many mares would have stopped there, basking in their success and immense wealth, but she wasn’t like most mares. The entire reason she’d started her business was to gratify herself, and so she did. Not only did she become the proprietor of her erotic establishment, but she was its star attraction.

Every night - every night, she put on a performance. Some evenings were relatively simple, consisting of solo acts where she’d pleasure herself for a crowd - others, she’d be joined by assistants for various perverse performances. Regardless of what she was doing or whom she was doing it with, there was one constant - she almost always pushed the boundaries.

Her ear twitched and swiveled to one side as she jolted back to the present. The sound of shoes on the polished marble flooring was a constant, as were hushed whispers and remarks around her, yet somepony amongst her audience was daring enough to finally approach her. Feeling a set of fingers run down her shoulder, over her side, and ultimately to her hip, she suppressed an elated whimper.

Sensory deprivation had become quite the thrilling experience for her, and she’d relished the helplessness of being immobilized, so it was only logical that combining the two would make for a rousing experience. Suspended from the ceiling and sheathed in a latex body-suit, with only her lips and nethers left exposed, she lazily spun in the center of her largest gallery.

She was a living, breathing art piece, and she was more than just a mere display. Many of her guests would merely look at her, marveling at the debaucherous creature she’d become, although there were some who weren’t content with simply spectating. As the hand on her flank glided over her tush and between her splayed thighs, her gaped, slavering marehood grasped at nothing.

The cool air against her depths was harrowing, maddening even, though it stimulated her like few things ever could. After going for hours without any stimulation whatsoever, the simple grace of a digit was enough to send bolts of pleasure shrieking through her. Sensing what she presumed was a thumb pass between her grasping lower lips and to her bulging, pierced clit, she groaned through the rubber gag lodged in her muzzle.

The excruciating torment borne from her lack of control and insight as to what precisely was going on was intoxicating. Was it a stallion or a mare that was toying with her? Would she be left wanting? What was going to happen to her? Only able to listen, feel, smell, and taste, if her visitors were so charitable as to remove her gag, she twisted ever so slightly and arched her back.

A soft chuckle graced her ear as the hand withdrew from her loins. Not knowing what would become of her was excruciating, but she’d willingly signed up for this. It was almost laughably easy to seduce somepony, especially in an establishment such as this, but it took a very special individual to place their body, pleasure, and very well-being in the hands of strangers.

Anypony and everypony in the room could see how aroused she was. The imprint of her nipples was made obvious by the sheer, black rubber sheathing her, there was a puddle of juices and saliva beneath her, and her desperate, honestly pathetic whining echoed throughout the cavernous chamber. On the cusp of accepting that her suitor had found her wanting, she tensed when a pair of hands clutched and squeezed her breasts.

Her tits were the one part of herself that she’d willingly taken liberties with after her business had become successful. Formerly modest and quite small, little more than handfuls, her bosoms had grown into a pair of fat, fuckable mounds of delectably sensitive flesh. Breathing hard and torquing her shoulders from side to side, she practically wept when the hands groping her departed.

The position she was in wasn’t exactly ideal for having her chest played with, but it was good for a great many other things. Her forearms were lashed behind her back, her ankles were held by lengths of thick cord, and a single strand of rope was wound masterfully around her torso and limbs. Anypony was free to use or abuse her as they so chose, even having access to a small number of toys available on a nearby table, and the pony, if they were a pony at all, who’d just fondled her was the first to touch her that evening.

She went to twist her head and froze as the faintest scent graced her nostrils. Thick and redolent, smacking of somepony who hadn’t bathed in some time, the aroma of an unwashed stallionhood graced her sinuses. Breathing deep and following her nose, she swung her snout toward the source of the smell and flinched when something warm tapped against her chin.

Her mouth watered, her pulse spiked, and a rope of drool slipped from her battered confines to dangle in the open air. A zebra was standing before her, she’d bet every bit she had on that, although what his intentions for her were yet to be seen. One of the perils of these particular performances was that she had no control whatsoever, occasionally being teased and left wanting, although that was precisely why she adored putting herself in such situations.

Offering herself to any stallion was a gift, but giving her body to a zebra stallion was akin to a religious experience. The exotic studs were indomitable, primal and zealous on a level that made ponies look meek in contrast, and they took what they wanted. When one of the striped demigods took her, having their way with her like she was their property, the ecstasy which overtook her was breathtaking.

She groaned and writhed against her bonds, drooling from both ends while her wrapped tail flagged. Earning his favor wouldn’t be easy, but that was nopony’s fault but her own. After months upon months of being used, fucked and even fisted by guests, her once-taut holes weren’t nearly as appealing as they’d once been.

Her marehood meaty and perpetually yawned open, prepared to take a stallionhood at a moment’s notice, and her backdoor was in no better condition. The tight crater of anus had developed into an engorged, doughy ring that was capable of accommodating more than her actual sex. She was completely aware that many stallions would be turned off by how loose she was, wishing for a tight, less worn out mare than herself, although her whorishness separated the wheat from the chaff.

The small number of ponies who chose to fool around with her were largely left unsatisfied. Even when she clenched around them, attempting to wring their stallionhoods dry, her grip was weak and slack at best. Only the largest endowments came close to filling her, and the biggest of which were typically held by a singular class of equine.

With a soft click, the strap securing the gag to her head came free. Like a carpet being rolled out, her tongue lolled out as she opened her muzzle fully. There was no urge for her to beg, simply because she hadn’t been asked, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t offer herself in a mute, curt fashion. Coinciding with a soft chuckle above her, a blunt cock-head slid into her snout.

The harsh flavors that exploded over her palate affirmed her suspicions. She most definitely was dealing with a zebra, likely a young, impetuous one, and she was overjoyed by the opportunity to clean his stallionhood. One of, if not the best thing about being blindfolded was that she had no way of knowing who was seeking out her services - given that, her imagination was left to fill in the blanks.

She liked to think that her suitor was inexperienced, some stallion half her age who’d heard whispers about the naughty, kinky mare who ran an adult-themed exhibit just outside of town. He’d likely brag about his time with her to his friends, regaling them with how she struggled to handle him, although that hardly mattered to her. Her only concern was that he enjoyed himself, preferably while seeing and treating her as an object to vent his frustrations before giving her a heaping helping of foal-batter.

Mopping his shaft with her lips while he started to buck into her face, she faltered. Something brushed against her inner thigh - no, two somethings. As she mused on if the stud had brought a friend, or if his boldness had inspired another member of the crowd, a set of what could only be knuckles ran over her marehood and up to her backdoor.

She’d long ago learned to prepare for every possibility, thoroughly cleaning and lubing herself prior to being paraded out and hung like a fetishistic ornament in her gallery, and that was for good reason. There were occasionally guests who didn’t seek physical pleasure, deriving enjoyment solely from demeaning or abusing her, though they were relatively rare. Bending her knees as much as she could, she set herself to swing back against her second visitor.

The sudden intrusion of a fist in her ass caused her to bray out in surprise and glee, but it was cut off almost immediately. With her airway open and mouth gullet vulnerable, the stallion standing before her plunged his length straight down her throat. Her startled cry became a gag while the stud laughed and hilted in her muzzle.

Having what felt like a foot of dick shoved into her esophagus was delightfully intense, preventing her from breathing or making anything but the most pathetic of noises, but it was the sensation of a forearm gradually snaking into her colon that threatened to break her. The quivering ring of her pucker was forced open as it embraced the muscular limb. He, if it was indeed a he, didn’t slow in the slightest until his elbow pressed to her hole - even then, after taking a second to possibly appreciate the sight of her, he continued onward.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could sense her belly distending and conforming to the arm within her colon. The muttering around her grew louder and more animated as her audience marveled at her. She was a toy, one which had been put through its paces many times before and many times yet to come, and tonight she would be tested.

Thick fingers traced down the back of her neck and around her throat while the stallion fucking her face began to move faster. He could have done anything, from pulling her mane to hauling on her restraints, but he was more creative than most. As he tightened his grip and throttled her, effectively stroking himself off and choking her more than she already was, her rapture reached its zenith.

Wracked with ecstasy, she came. Her marehood erupted like a geyser, tears slipped from beneath her blindfold, and her heart thundered wildly in her bosom. This was what she was made for, not sitting in front of an audience to craft music, and her only regret was not finding her true place sooner than she had.

Her suitors relented, one pulling his arm from her ass while the other stepped back just enough to let her oxygen-starved lungs get a sip of air. She’d always presumed that nothing could ever beat playing her cello, yet she’d been terribly mistaken. Acting as an outlet for stallions’ sexual desires, while giving perilously little regard to her own needs or wants - that was her real calling.

The stud behind her wiped his arm off on her lower back while stepping between her legs. She’d had her doubts on if the stranger was a stallion at all, although that concern was answered when she felt a broad, fat cock-head bear against her loosened, cavernous pucker. As nice as it would have been to get her marehood stuff, she certainly wasn’t opposed to having her ass plowed.

Thrusting completely out of sync with one another, the duo fucked her without a shred of restraint. One titanic stallionhood effortlessly pounded her backside, causing a mixture of lube and pre-cum to drool over her winking cunt, while a second plunged in and out of her muzzle. It was glorious, everything she yearned for and more, and the fact that she had an audience to savor the savage display only served to elevate her bliss.

“I got next,” somepony grunted from beside her. “I’m gonna fuck up that pussy of hers…”

She practically climaxed hearing his voice alone. He sounded big, his voice impossibly deep, and she could tell that he was going to make good on his promise. There was something decadently hedonistic about being as worn-out as she was. Zebras, even well-hung ones, rarely gave her much of a challenge, but something told her that the stud waiting patiently for his turn wasn’t going to take it easy on her.

Fantasizing about what fate would befall her next, and if there was cue forming for her services, she slipped into a mental haze. Her breasts swayed beneath her, her body swung between the duo railing her, and a golden, heavy-gauged ring weighed upon her clit. The only thing that could have improved upon the situation would be if she was nude - on the other hand, only being able to feel completely with her mouth and nethethers came with benefits of its own.

Time steadily passed while the studs grew more impassioned. It almost seemed like they were in a race with one another, each snorting and bucking their hips like it was the last thing they’d ever do, but she doubted that was the case. Feeling the stallionhood throb against her backdoor, pulsing while ropes of seed coursed into her, she bore down and clamped her ass around the base of his shaft.

A proper mare, irrespective of the circumstances, didn’t let a stallion’s essence go to waste. Her depths warmed under the flood of his spunk, slickened further by his generosity, although he didn’t stay hilted within her for long. Stepping back, he hauled his flared cock-head free with a wet pop, snickered, and violently slapped her cum-slathered hole.

“There ya go, pops,” he guffawed as he departed.

She strained to contain the jizz in her rear, but it was no use. Spunk flowed from her velvety, distended pucker, rolling over her marehood and down to her clit before pattering to the floor. One of the few drawbacks to being as seasoned as she was was that messes were practically unavoidable, although that clearly didn’t bother the stallion using her throat.

With his thrusts faltering and growing erratic, the stud choked her as he buried his length. “Fuck yeah.”

Pain mingled with pleasure, her consciousness faded, and her lungs burned. It was through sheer determination and experience that she didn’t succumb and black out, having learned some time ago that panicking was the worst thing she could do, so she suppressed her gag reflex and cherished every drop of seed that coursed into her stomach. Her only real fear had been climaxing, understanding that the overwhelming pleasure would be too much for her to handle, although she held herself back just long enough to let him unsheathe his stallionhood and paint her face.

“Fucking slut,” he growled.

A soft sound graced her ear seconds before a warm gobbet of spit impacted on her cheek. He was wrong, she wasn’t a slut - she was both less and more than that. A slut merely had sex for the sake of having sex, whores capitalized on carnality, but she had transformed eroticism into an art form - a contentious art form that many found repulsive, but an art form all the same. Clearing her throat as quietly as she could, she respectfully dipped her head and mutely thanked the stallion for his time.

She must have - no, she was a total mess. White cum lay strewn over her jet-black body suit, her lipstick was smeared and mascara ran from beneath her blindfold, and both her destroyed marehood and ass were open for all to see. While many would have hated themselves for being reduced to such a debauched spectacle, she was filled with nothing but pride.

The sound of boots on marble tore her from her musings and prompted her to turn her head. Either having cowed his fellow attendees into submission intentionally or purely by his doubtlessly intimidating nature, her next suitor grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart. He’d said he was going to fuck up her pussy, and he meant it.

Without any warning whatsoever, her cunt was filled. Whoever this stallion was, he was definitely bit in at least one way. Deeper and deeper he plunged, slipping through her cervix and into her womb, until his big, heavy balls came to rest against her clit. Her jaw went slack and she stiffened, taken aback by the vehement violation of her inner chamber, yet her silence was fleeting.

With her maw clear, she sang - she sang a song of sin that resonated and echoed throughout the gallery. She’d never been much of a vocalist, much preferring to let her instruments sing for her, but her rapture made her a songstress. Everypony in the building would have heard her, unquestioningly listening to her blissful wail, and they steadily flocked to enjoy the show.

She climaxed as soon as the stud pulled on her dock, delivering a dose of discomfort alongside the bliss of plowing her, and she sullied the floor with her juices. Other mares, the ones who would gaze upon her with disdain, were blind; they didn’t understand the divinity of embracing their true selves and finding their purpose. With her head yanked to the side, her mane tugged by the brute, she suckled and nursed upon one of his calloused digits.

Some of the onlookers laughed, others questioned how she could have fallen from grace, and a few even remarked about how pitiful she’d become - in every case, their adulation thrilled her to no end. Having endured two orgasms already, and with hours to go before her exhibit concluded, she smiled around the stallion’s fingers. No matter how many guests she had, regardless of whether she was touched, screwed, teased, or simply talked down to, she was certain of one immutable fact - she was happy.

Flim & Flam

“Ladies and gentlecolts!” Flim blared as he stepped through the curtain at the back of their wagon.

“Bulls and bottoms!” Flam added, strutting into the open while beaming at the throng.

Moving in perfect tandem, the pair pressed their backs together, held hands, and motioned to the steadily assembling crowd. “Have we got a deal for you!” they blared in unison.

As they smiled and held their breath, waiting for their introduction to draw in a few more curious faces, the same thought crossed their minds. Times had changed dramatically for the both of them, and they couldn’t be happier. While once they’d eked out a living hucking snake oil, shoddily contraptions, and anything they could make a quick bit off of, they’d struck success in the most novel of ways.

Sauntering away from his sibling, Flam spun on his heel and waved over at Flim. “Is your coltfriend a little too cocky or cocky?” he loudly laughed.

He turned his eyes to Flim and winked. His former brother was a pale shadow of his former self, having forsaken any shred of masculinity he’d once had; with her hair done up in a pair of flowing pigtails, thigh-high leggings, and a string bikini that left nothing to the imagination, it would have been shocking for many to think she’d ever been a stallion at all. Waiting for her to pirouette and gave a small bow, showing off all her assets, he smirked.

Flim was an honest to goodness mare, both inside and out, and she was a damn good looking one too. Perky tits, a slender waist, and a sporty little ass that could and often would draw the attention of even the most dubiously straight stallion - honestly, she had it all. Years prior, before their innovative business venture, Flam would never have guessed that he’d have a sister - in spite of that, he couldn’t be more proud of the life his sibling had embraced.

“Or maybe your special somepony isn’t as obedient as you’d like them to be?” Flim quipped, covering her muzzle and suppressing a practiced giggle.

Peering over at her brother, she watched as he caressed a finger to a collar around his neck while flipping the front of his painfully short skirt. Unlike herself, Flim gone through as dramatic of a transformation as herself; he was still a stallion, yet he was as far from a stud as one could get. Glancing down to his groin, she licked her lips.

Flam was a femcolt, sleeker and more feminine than most natural mares, yet he’d insisted on keeping a memento of what he’d once been. A burnished, silvery cage was locked to his package, throttling his dainty little coin purse while ensuring his limp, diminutive colthood only served as a decoration and convenient lube dispenser. She’d tried to convince him at first, telling him they could become the Flim Flam sisters, although she wouldn’t deny that the contrast between them was delightfully thrilling. Save for the chastity and lack of tits, only having a deliciously flat chest, he was essentially a mare, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it.

They nodded to one another, shared a glance, and inhaled in tandem. “Well we have just the ticket to spice up your love lives!” they blared. Acting in concert, Flim kicked a switch that extended a small stage from the back of their cart while Flam threw a lever which extended and opened an array of products from the storage area in the aft of their wagon.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” Flam exclaimed, wholly uncaring about his slatternly appearance. Throwing an arm back, he deftly plucked a potion bottle from a shelf. “We’ve got elixirs that can do practically anything! Want a fat pair of tits? Easy as! Maybe you’d like a bit more cushion for the pushin’?” he chirped, spinning and giving his nearly bare backside a smack after grabbing a different cocktail. “Right here, my friends!”

“Now now, brother, let’s not be so hasty!” Flim chimed in as she playfully wagged a finger. “Perhaps you’re wanting something you could use with yourself or a lover? Boy howdy, do we have options for you!” she continued. Turning and pulling a cloth from atop a pop-up table, she revealed a veritable arsenal of sex toys. “We’ve got plugs, paddles, pumps, pasties, personal massagers, and much more!”

Stepping back to the edge of their stage, allowing their spectators to get a good view of their wares, they bowed. It was funny and delightfully ironic - instead of constantly trying and failing to get rich with dubious business practices and questionable products, they’d only met success when they’d found themselves. Truth be told, though they had plenty of bits in the bank, their happiness came from their wealth.

As the first brave soul stepped up and onto the platform to eye the range of neatly labeled potions, the duo did what they did best - well, what they did best in a public setting. Regardless of their past, both Flim and Flam were both extraordinary salesponies, knowing how to work a crowd or read potential customers on instinct, and they put their talent to use. While they chatted, answered questions, and proudly talked-up their goods, they waited patiently for the next part of their act.

“How do we even know this stuff works?” somepony asked.

Flim, Flam, and a sizable portion of the throng turned and looked over at the inquisitive pony. The stallion, a timid-looking, meek little guy, was a plant, but it wasn’t like anypony but the twins knew that. Holding his ground as the vampish vendors approached him, abandoning their would-be clients, he visibly stiffened.

“We could tell you,” Flam hummed, moving to the stallion’s side.

Sandwiching the pony’s arm between her tits, Flim tittered. “But maybe we should show you. Come with us, good sir, and we’ll prove we’re more than just talk.”

The twosome guided the stallion up and onto the platform while their prospective clients gave them space. Talk was cheap, it was true, but that wasn’t a problem for them. In a bygone age, they would’ve swindled the ever-living hell out of everypony, essentially using smoke and mirrors to convince the crowd that they weren’t charlatans, but that was a long, long time ago.

“What’s your name, fella?” Flim quipped.

“S…Star Tracker,” the young stallion meekly replied.

Though Flam was fully aware of what Star wanted, he played his part flawlessly. “And how can we help you this fine day, pal? No, wait, lemme guess ~ you’d like something to surprise your big, undoubtedly big coltfriend?”

Star’s cheeks darkened as he lowered his head and nodded. “Y…yeah…”

Spinning on her heel, Flim grabbed an elixir, popped the cork with her thumb, and smoothly brought the bottle to Star’s lips. “Well drink up! It’ll take a few doses to have its fullest effect,” she snickered while fondling one of her breasts, “but how far you take it is up to you!”

“O…ok,” Star stammered, taking the bottle and shying away.

With a small area cleared around himself, he lifted and swallowed down the concoction before the mass of onlookers. He wasn’t all that impressive of a stallion, what with his scrawny build, relatively short stature, and a flowing, golden mane contrasted against his short, royal blue coat, although that was about to change in a big, big way. Harlequin flame consumed him, burning away his t-shirt and shorts, while Flim and Flam broadly grinned.

The potion was their biggest seller, and that was for a damn good reason. Combining Zebrican alchemy, a bit of love magic, and just a kiss of changeling venom, the elixir did everything they said it would. As the harmless fire died engulfing Star, a collective gasp escaped the crowd.

Star peered down at himself in shock, unable or unwilling to move. “H…holy cow…”

“Not sure about the holy part, although we do have a couple cow-print outfits that may tickle that cute little pickle of yours,” Flam cheerfully noted while presenting and turning a mirror to her suddenly exhibitionistic volunteer.

Effectively naked, save for the scorched remnants of his briefs, Star’s body perfectly demonstrated the potion’s effects. His midsection was smooth and soft, his tush was plush and downright squeezable, and his naughty bits - well, they were reduced to little more than a subtle bulge beneath his underwear. It would have been easy for anypony to assume he wasn’t dominant when it came to amorous affairs prior to his minor metamorphosis, but now he practically screamed bottom-bitch.

Several spectators softly applauded, many openly remarked on the demonstration, and a few even rushed to the rack of potions - irrespective of their reactions, the show had caused quite the stir and served its purpose. Flim and Flam became a blur of motion, addressing questions and ringing up sales like the professionals they were. While products virtually flew off the shelves, with a number of ponies scrambling to grab items before they were sold out, the bits flowed.

By the time things had wrapped up, nearly four hours later, Flim and Flam were exhausted in more ways than one. Most of their products were gone, sweat glistened on their hides, and their cash register was nearly smoking from being overworked, yet they couldn’t keep themselves from smiling - not because of the small fortune they’d just made, that they’d cleared out most of their stock, or that they were going to be able to wrap up earlier than they’d anticipated, but because of what awaited them. Packing their wagon and pulling the curtains closed, they strolled around to the front of the cart.

“Done already?” a gruff, gravely voice hummed.

“Yes, daddy,” the pair demurely answered.

The wagon lurched and groaned as a colossal figure emerged from beneath the arched tarp covering it. Flim and Flam stepped back and craned their necks to peer up as the monstrous stallion hopped to the ground. To say the mountain of a stud was huge would be an understatement, and he was all theirs - rather, they were his.

Alade had done much, much more than help them perfect their potions; without him, they’d probably be on the road struggling to make ends meet, and they definitely wouldn’t be the ponies they’d ultimately become. Impossibly tall and built like a tank, brimming with thick slabs of muscle beneath his striped hide, the titan smiled down upon them. As the pair plastered themselves against him, pawing at his abs and chest, his hands drifted to the top of their heads.

Squatting down, Alade pecked their cheeks and lowered his hands to shamelessly grope their asses. “Love my girls.”

“Love you too, daddy,” Flim murmured.

Flam shifted and breathed hotly against Alade’s ear. “If you really mean that…” he trailed off as he reached out and caressed the gargantuan swell within the zebra’s jeans.

“Maybe we could earn a little tip,” Flam added as she slipped a hand into his waistband.

Softly laughing and shaking his head, keeping a firm grip on their backsides, he pulled the duo close. “What am I going to do with you two?”

“Stuff us,” Flam cooed.

“Fuck us,” Flim purred.

Alade looked past the pair, possibly checking to see if they were being watched, and slipped a thick digit into their asses. “You know the deal…”

The pair moaned and rolled their hips back, desperate for more, yet Alade withdrew his fingers and rose to his full height moments after he spoke. He’d been right, Flim and Flam did know what was expected of them, and they weren’t about to let the chance slip through their fingers. If either of the feminized ponies were going to get a reward for their hard work, they were going to have to earn it.

Striking quickly, Flam darted around behind Alade. As the studs jeans were drawn downward, loosened and removed by Flim, an ambrosial scent wafted to his nose. Zebras smelled amazing, so strong as to be overpowering, and their scent rarely failed to get him excited. He instantly fell to his knees, took a deep, musk-laced breath, and drove his muzzle into his daddy’s big, beefy ass.

The aroma clinging to his sinuses was quickly complemented by the taste of sweat as dragged his tongue up Alade’s taint. One of the many reasons he’d decided to remain a stallion, if only a pitiful one, was that he adored submitting himself to real studs. Rimming his daddy, being paraded around in skimpy attire, showing off his cage, and having the cum fucked out of him were what he lived for, especially because of his chaste, emasculated state.

“Atta girl,” Alade rumbled above him. “Really get in there…”

Flam hadn’t needed to be told what to do, yet the small bit of encouragement was like pouring fuel on a fire. Though he’d never had much luck with mares, only having a small number of brief relationships with them in the past, it was still somewhat shocking how quickly he’d taken to devoting himself to a real stallion - be that as it may, Alade had put him through his paces. He’d learned to beg, dress properly, and accept his servile, obedient nature like a fish to water, and he wasn’t the only one.

Reverently lifting Alade’s immense endowment, Flam all but made out with the stud’s cock-head. Her marehood burned with desire, desperate to be filled, although she ignored the ache in her loins. While she worked her lips around the bloated tip of ebony length, her eyes never strayed from her lover’s face.

She gave a hushed, contented groan as the dick in her snout tickled the back of her throat. Having formerly been a stallion came with a number of benefits - one of which being she knew just how to get a guy off. Working the sensitive underside of Alade’s shaft, she twisted her torso ever so slightly and pulled her top up to show off her tits.

An approving snort from her lover was accompanied by his hand drifting to the back of her head. She filled her lungs as swiftly as she could, understanding what was coming, and she did so in the nick of time. In a flash, her throat bulged outward as Alade thrust forward and plunged into her gullet.

With both hands free, no longer able or needing to stroke Alade off, she yielded to her urges. Tweaking one nipple as she choked on his cock, she reached down and sank a trio of digits into herself. It was hard to say if she was like other mares, what with her alchemically altered body, but the act of getting her stud off was as or more gratifying than playing with herself.

Stifled groans and gags from the twins caught the ear of several passers-by, though neither paid it any mind. The event they were at was expressly for adults, catering to the carnal wants of ponies, and it was hardly taboo to see somepony or someponies getting frisky with themselves or one another. Getting her face fucked and eating Alade’s respectively, Flim and Flam lavished their burly stud with affection.

Alade himself basked in twins’ devotion, pumping his hips at a relaxed, unhurried pace. Anypony and everypony who witnessed the exchange could tell who held the reins in the three-way relationship, and that wasn’t even accounting for the blatant worship. Biding his time and giving the duo just enough time to spitshine his backside and turgid length, he eventually pushed Flim back while stepping away from Flam.

“Alright alright,” Alade relented as crossed his arms over his chest. “If you want -”

Scrambling over one another, Flim and Flam threw themselves to the floor, arched their backs, and invitingly waggled their backsides. Mirror images of one another, save for the difference of a winking marehood and ripe, minuscule pair of balls and cage, the pair of immaculately presented asses were a sight to behold. They could have begged, they could have done any number of things, yet they were both keenly aware that any attempt to curry favor may backfire.

As the corners of his lips turned up, Alade’s clutched the base of his cock and waved it from one tush to the other. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by the toe…”

Flim held her breath while Flam did likewise. There were very few faults with Alade, although the fact that he could only plow one of them at a time was chief amongst them. While the colossal, exquisitely well-hung stud had enough endurance to satisfy the twins with a single bedding, it was always a guessing game on which of them would be dicked-down first.

“...let him go. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” Alade concluded while leveling his tool at Flim. “Lucky you…”

Swinging her arms back and prizing her buns apart, Flim gave him a glimpse of her juicy, pink interior. “Not to worry, brother, I’ll get him nice and lubed up for you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Flam groused as he flipped to his back.

Wriggling beneath his sister, he brought his face directly beneath Flam’s loins. He may have lost the coin toss on having his insides rearranged, although he still had a job to do. As Alade knelt down and got into position, bringing his titanic endowment to bear, his tongue crept past his lips.

Flam quaked and howled above him, though he scarcely noticed it. Closing his eyes, he lifted his head and licked Alade’s cock. He would never, ever have done anything with his brother, finding the thought abhorrent, but his sister - having a sister whom he shared a lover with put an entirely different spin on things. With a flick of his tongue, he switched his attention from his sibling’s clit to the enormous shaft sinking into her.

It might have been as nice as being fucked himself, but having his face in the action wasn’t that bad - plus it would make getting plowed into a coma even more enjoyable. Bringing one hand down his chest and between his splayed legs, he expertly fingered his tender p-spot. To tartarus with it - if Alade and Flim could get some action, he could too.

Left to speculate on what it would feel like to have a pussy, his imagination ran wild. Flam had explained that being claimed as a mare was phenomenal, vastly better than it had been when she’d been a stallion, but he wasn’t sure he believed her. While the day might come when he fully committed and exchanged his imprisoned prick for a succulent cunt, he was happy with having a supple, velvety pucker for Alade to use for now.

With her toes curling and hair standing on end, Flim squealed and came. Nectar flowed from her spasming depths, her mind went blank, and she almost collapsed atop her brother - almost. The ecstasy Alade delivered was incomprehensible, so powerful that she’d instantly fallen in love with it when he’d first despoiled her marehood - alas, like many times before, her enjoyment of it was all too fleeting.

She shakily turned her head and looked back as the girthy shaft was hauled from her depths. He was done with her, and no amount of fighting his fleeing stallionhood could stop him - however that didn’t keep her from fiercely gripping his length. As he withdrew with a soft pop, a crushing sense of loss settled upon her.

“Up,” Alade grunted.

Shuffling around, she unsteadily got to her feet while Flam rolled over and got to his hands and knees. Though she’d just been allowed to cum, her job was far from over. Like her brother, she was Alade’s toy, an outlet for his desires, and there was plenty she had to offer aside from a hot, fertile pussy to pound.

Fertile - the mere notion that she could get knocked up was mind-blowing. She had a womb, she’d endured estrus a handful of times, and she was positive that her foal-factory was primed and ready to bear Alade an heir. The urge to fulfill her biological purpose was maddening, stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, and it was a certainty that she would be a mother someday, but that would only happen when her stud deemed her worthy of it.

Pressing her tits to Alade’s midsection, she kissed and pawed at his chest. For as vehement and domineering as he was, he’d always had a soft spot for affection - particularly when he was balls-deep in her brother. As she glanced downward and at Flam, her thoughts drifted back to when she’d been in his position.

It wasn’t all that long ago when she’d been a stallion herself, having her prostate ravaged and back blown out by Alade, so she could sympathize with Flam on a fundamental level. There was a strong argument to be made for being a wanton sissy like her brother, although she didn’t regret her decision to become a mare. Shifting and running her tongue over Alade’s pec, she rubbed her clit as her mind wandered.

Alade almost always finished with Flam, blowing his load in her brother’s ass or occasionally down her throat, although that could eventually change. On several occasions, conversations about starting a family had come up, about the three of them settling down and starting a new life, and they’d always come with a catch. If the day came when she was carrying his foal, she wouldn’t be the only one doing it.

Driving two fingers into herself, she groaned around Alade’s nipple. He’d promised her and Flim that he’d make them his personal broodmares, although that was only going to happen when they both had wombs for him to mark as his own. The idea of the twins, then sisters, traipsing about a house while gravid and pampering their stud was compelling - so compelling that she often fantasized about it when they made love.

She giggled as Flim mewled incoherently, likely weathering his first orgasm of the tryst, and snaked a hand downward to caress Alade’s hip. Though she would never pressure her brother for anything, content to let him make his own decisions, she couldn’t wait for the day that she joined him as a true mare. The Flim Flam brothers had made quite the name for themselves, but the Flim Flam sisters had quite the ring to it.

“Tighten up - Nnnph - slut,” Alade growled.

Flim innately did as he’d been told, clamping down with what little strength he had. The flaring tip deep in his bowels, the pulsing of the shaft hammering into him, the hastened pace of Alade’s hips beating against his backside - they heralded what he’d been yearning for. Orgasms for him were a pleasant byproduct, purely a coincidence of doing his duty to please his stud - the real reward was the feeling of sweltering, virile seed surging through his depths.

Giving a final plunge, Alade hilted and gave him what he so deeply desired. The feeling of being bred as a stallion was both demeaning and electrifying, and it was enough to send him sailing over the edge in a heartbeat. He whimpered and shook uncontrollably while thin, impotent spunk dribbled from his chaste colthood.

As he risked a glimpse back, curious as to why he hadn’t heard anything, his eyes settled on Alade and Flim. His sister typically got more attention than he did, being treated with a level of care that bordered on romance, and it left him feeling conflicted. On one hand, he could understand why such a fine stud would favor a mare over a femcolt - on the other, being used as a convenient sex-toy came with benefits of its own.

Biting his lower lip to quiet himself, Flam remained still as Alade pulled out of his battered, cum-filled ass. Their stud was satisfied, his balls temporarily emptied, but they weren’t quite finished yet. Getting to their knees, the twins flanked their titanic lover’s slick, steaming stallionhood and set to cleaning him off.

“Love my mares,” Alade muttered above them.

“Love you too, daddy,” Flim and Flam jointly replied.

Though they had no way of knowing it, remaining silent while they mopped Alade’s cock with their tongues, Flim and Flam’s minds dwelled on the same thing. It was only logical that they’d take the next step eventually, graduating from salesponies to mothers for beautiful striped foals, yet the mystery of when that would come to pass was part of the fun. As their eyes met from opposite sides of the obsidian shaft in their hands, they leaned in and kissed one another. Family had always meant more to them than anything, even bits, and they’d cherish the day they embraced maternity side by side…

Granny Smith

With the sun setting at her back, Granny Smith tottered across her porch, leaned against her front door, and wiped sweat from her brow. She was happy for Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac, although her life had gotten much more difficult since they’d taken lovers and started families of their own - on top of that, she wasn’t as young as she used to be. As she saw herself in and closed the door, a wistful smile graced her snout.

She’d heard all sorts of stuff about all the Zebricans that had come to Equestria, both good and bad, but they didn’t bother her one bit - heck, she thought most of ‘em were decent folks. There were plenty of the striped ponies, or whatever the heck they were supposed to be called, who were happy to work the orchard and keep the family farm functioning, she had a number of great grand kids on the way, and she hadn’t met a single one who hadn’t treated her with respect. All in all, she was pleased as punch with the influx of big, strong newcomers to the area - that said, she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little jealous.

Turning and looking at a mirror within the entryway, she grimaced. The young, nubile mare she’d once been was a thing of the past, gone for longer than she cared to admit, but that wasn’t the worst part - the worst part was that she was starting to feel her age. Her joints ached, she was constantly tired, and even the simplest tasks felt herculean. Having caught her breath and grown weary from looking at her wrinkled face, she knit her brow and turned her eyes down to her purse.

Her trip to town had taken the better part of the day, and it had left her exhausted, although it was worth the effort - well, she sure as heck hoped it had been worth the effort and considerable amount of bits she’d spent. As she reached into her handbag and touched a set of glass vials, a strange mixture of emotions swept over her. Unicorn magic was powerful stuff, as was Zebrican alchemy, and together they might - might be the key to improving her life.

Lifting one of the bottles she’d purchased up to her face, she squinted and tried to read the label. Flim and Flam had insisted she buy their deluxe package, a menagerie of different potions that would, as they said, fix her right up, although she was dubious of their claims. As far as she was concerned, feminized forms and silvery tongues notwithstanding, the pair had always been snake oil salesponies.

“Gosh dang it,” she cursed while turning and looking in the direction of the stairs.

Without her glasses, she couldn’t read a darn thing - furthermore, she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d ended up purchasing. She knew she’d been given a set of four bottles, and a fifth thrown in as a bonus, but she hadn’t the foggiest as to which was what. Glancing over at her front door, she frowned.

She never thought it would come to this, cheating mother nature and attempting to turn back the clock. Getting old was a natural part of life, and she didn’t mind it that much, although a lot had changed. In a grand twist of fate, Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac weren’t the only ones who’d found themselves with zebras who fancied them.

Sweet Celestia - if somepony had told her she’d start courting somepony at her age, she would’ve called ‘em crazy, yet that’s exactly what had ended up happening. It wasn’t two months ago, while she’d been on a trip to town, that she’d bumped into him. Musing on him, she brought the vial to her snout and bit down on the cork stopper.

His name was Babu, and he was the main reason she’d decided to spend so many bits on what was essentially a gamble. Tall, well-built, and a smooth-talker if ever there was one, he had a lot going for him. She’d initially assumed that he was half her age, just another young buck who’d moved to Ponyville, but she was shocked to learn he was nearly as old as she was.

While things had started slow between them, just meeting up for lunch or to chat every few days, their relationship had blossomed with astonishing speed. Simple meals turned into dates, they went to see shows or movies with each other, and they’d even talked about going on sightseeing tours by train - nevertheless, for as happy as they were with one another, there was one thing she couldn’t do with him. Pulling the cork free and spitting it to the floor with her dentures, she snorted in indignation.

Buck it - she was willing to give the elixir a try - actually, if one of ‘em was supposed to help, downing all of them might just do the trick. Was chugging a fistful of potions a bad idea? Yeah, more than likely, but it wasn’t like she had much to lose. Drinking the contents of each vial in rapid succession, she sat the emptied containers beside herself and closed her eyes.

As the seconds passed into minutes and longer still, her mood darkened. She didn’t feel anything, not even a tingle, and the lack of sensation cemented her fears. Fantastic - she’d been swindled, robbed of her bits, and she was going to sic Big Mac on both Flim and Flam for hoodwinking her. Gathering up the bottles and stuffing them back into her purse, she unsteadily got to her feet.

The moment she stood, a wave of intense vertigo hit her like a runaway apple cart. Her knees buckled, her heart pounded in her chest, and the world spun around her as she fell back onto the sofa. If the concoctions she’d just drank weren’t to blame for her sudden and remarkably disquieting state, she was about to kick the bucket - either way, it wasn’t good at all.

She flopped to her side and fought to control her breathing as her mind raced. Calling out for help wouldn’t do much good, since nopony else was at home, and it wasn’t like she could drag herself back to town in her current state. Closing her eyes and saying a mute prayer that she hadn’t just made a fatal mistake, she blacked out.

Knock Knock Knock

Granny bolted upright, startled by the noise. “Be right…”

She fell silent when the unfamiliar voice rang in her ears, yet that was only the start of her confusion. As she looked down at herself, her eyes shot wide. What in the hay was going on? Was she dreaming? How could this be real?! Pushing herself up and walking to the entryway, she gasped when she got a good look at herself.

The mare in the mirror was familiar, but only barely. With a platinum-blonde mane and tail, smooth skin, and fiery amber eyes, she touched her face in disbelief. The potions really had worked - that or this was a weird way to start her afterlife! As she ran her hands down her neck, over her shoulders, and down to a fat pair of perky tits on her chest, a filly-like giggle escaped her.

Dead or not, she wasn’t about to complain about her figure. She looked as good as she ever had in her youth - no, scratch that, even better than she had in her youth! Her tits were absolutely massive, her curves could rival any supermodel or raunchy film star, and her hips - goodness, she had the very definition of foal-bearing hips. Turning and peeking over her shoulder, she swung her tail to the side and inspected her rear.

Oh yeah, there was no doubt about it, she was lookin’ good - darn good! Going to bend over and get a better look at her backside, she smiled all the broader. She might not have been able to fool around with Babu before, mostly because she’d rather not show up at the Ponyville clinic with a broken hip or crick in her back, but now she was more than ready to -

Knock Knock Knock

She turned and glanced back at the door. “Just a second! Ah swear, folks expect an older mare to be -”

“Granny,” a sonorous voice called out, “is that you?”

Oh heck - oh crabapples! Checking the clock hung in the entryway, Granny swallowed hard. The whole reason she’d bought the dang potions was because Babu was supposed to come over to play canasta this afternoon! Rushing to and pressing herself against the door, she looked out the peephole.

Sure enough, Babu was lingering on the porch with a concerned look on his face. Placing a hand on the doorknob, seconds from letting him in, she froze. Inviting him in and giving him a welcoming hug would have been expected, ordinarily speaking, yet her new figure demanded something special. Like it or not, he was about to be in for one heck of a surprise.

Whipping around and hurrying to the stairs, she shouted. “One sec, Babu, lemme just - uh - just wait, consarn it.”

She moved with a purpose, bounding up two stairs at a time, until she reached the second floor. Given all the things she’d done for her grandchildren over the years, she could forgive herself for borrowing something from one of them. Sprinting down the hallway, burst into Applejack’s room and ran to the dresser while stripping out of her clothes.

She hadn’t worn anything sexy in - goodness, decades at least, but it was a special occasion. Pulling open drawers and scanning their contents, she found what she was looking for. All she could do was keep her fingers crossed that Babu had a sound ticker, because she’d feel awful for giving him a heart attack.

Having hastily dressed, she rushed back downstairs and to the entryway. It would have been nice if she’d had time to make herself up properly, but she’d have to make due with what she had. As she stopped by the door and checked herself out in the mirror, a sly grin split her muzzle.

She looked, in a word, absolutely trampy. The black lingerie she’d purloined, consisting of leggings, crotchless panties, a garterbelt, and nippleless bra were exquisitely lewd, far more depraved than anything she’d normally wear, although they magnified her voluptuous figure several times over - shucks, the fact that she was a bit too big for the attire, with her tits spilling out of her top while her ass practically devoured her underwear, only made it better! Quietly unlocking the front door, she stepped back, leaned against the wall, and struck a dramatic pose.

“C’mon in, sweetness,” she purred.

Stepping inside, Babu removed his hat and rested it on a hanger by the door. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m…”

His jaw went slack and hung open when he looked over and saw her. Without skipping a beat, drawing from her newfound zeal and the exuberance that had been hindered by her years, she strutted over and plastered herself to his chest. She’d yearned to be intimate with him, to be touched in a way that only a stallion could provide, and now she was going to get it.

“Cat got your tongue?” she mused as she drew a hand down his chest and to the growing bulge in his pants.

He only reluctantly pushed her away and looked down into her eyes. “Granny?”

“You’re lookin’ at her,” she snickered. “C’mon now, don’t tell me this ain’t an improvement.”

“It…it most certainly is,” he shakily breathed. “What happened to -”

Silencing him by pressing a finger to his lips, she began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “We can talk about it later - for now, Ah think we both wanna give this new body of mine a test drive.”

He lowered his hands and allowed her to undress him. Like a kid on Hearth’s Warming morning, she quickly removed one piece of clothing after another from his impressive frame. It wasn’t until she’d tossed his shirt aside and loosened his pants, saving the best for last, that she stepped back and composed herself.

Nodding down at the swell in his slacks, she licked her chops. “Care to do the honors, big fella?”

“After all the effort you put in to do this,” he chuckled while beaming over at her, “it would be my honor.”

As he languidly pulled his pants downward, inch after god-like inch of his length was revealed. She’d seen some whoppers in her day, including the handful of times when she’d accidentally caught Big Mac and Ẹfin goin’ at, but Babu’s stallionhood was easily one of the largest. Jet black and hanging heavily between his thighs, replete with a pair of big, meaty balls, his package was everything she could have asked for and then some.

Clutching and stroking his length, he coolly stroked himself off. “Think you can handle it?”

“Think?” she laughed. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it! I’m fixin’ to give you a night you won’t forget!”

“Is that so?” he inquired. Crossing to her and giving her left breast a gentle squeeze, he ground his cock against her midsection. “Not worried about that hip?”

She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that her joints were the last thing she was worried about, yet she stopped herself when she was stricken by an inspiring idea. Her muzzle could do a lot more than just talk, and that’s a lesson he was about to learn. Lowering herself into a deep, splay-legged squat, she moved her snout to his groin.

His natural scent was alluring, even when he was wearing clothes, although the musk that rolled off his bare loins sent a thrilled bolt up her spine. From the aroma alone, the earthy, masculine bouquet filling her sinuses, she could sense her marehood start to drool. There was only one way she could find out if her metamorphosis was anything more than skin deep, and that would require a bit of intimate exploration.

Leaning back and hefting his tremendous endowment with one hand, she opened her maw and laughed. Mere hours before, she would have given Babu a no-denture adventure - now with a full set of pearly whites, she’d have to be a little more mindful about sucking him off. As she wrapped her lips around the girthy tip of his length, a warmth blossomed within her abdomen.

It took her a second to recognize the growing sensation within her, but the realization of what was happening, what her body was doing, fanned the flames of her passion like few things ever had. She was going into heat, her long-dormant foal-factory roaring back to life, and she couldn’t have been happier to indulge her marish wants. Reaching down to shamelessly knead her aching marehood, she bobbed her head and gradually took Babu’s shaft into her gullet.

He smiled and lovingly stroked the top of her head. “You could have done this before now.”

Pulling back and freeing her mouth, she shook his dick and scrunched her snout up at him. “Don’t you give me that sass! Who’d want a hummer from some old, dusty - Hlk?!”

“I didn’t say stop,” he rumbled as he bucked his hips and pulled her head forward.

Her throat yielded and bulged outward as his length plunged into her face. Old skills, ones she hadn’t thought she’d ever need again, kicked into overdrive in an instant. Though she might have the body of some buxom, slutty frat girl who’d had too much to drink, she had the carnal prowess that could probably put the Princesses themselves to shame. Grabbing his hips and getting his rhythm down, she blinked away a tear while keeping her heavily-lidded eyes on his face.

His pleased smirk was rewarding, though not as exciting as the feeling of his stallionhood pulsing in her gullet. She would have given anything to experience this again, so draining her savings was a small price to pay. As she steadied herself and gagged around him, her mind was overcome with lust.

Well-built, virile, and not scared to put his stallionly needs over her need to breathe, Babu had the vigor of a pony half his age! She’d been keen on him since they’d first crossed paths, finding him both attractive and charming, but this cemented it. If she was half as fertile as she assumed she was, Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac might be getting themselves a half-aunt before too long.

Burning his length, Babu ground his crotch against her nose. “Having fun?”

With her eyelids fluttering and marehood winking, she choked out a muted reply. Simply getting face-fucked by a stallion like Babu would have been enough to make her cum, yet her instinctual desire were what pushed her past the brink. A climactic spray of nectar erupted from her quivering depths, dampening her borrowed panties and splashing to the floor beneath her.

He relented, if only just, and stared down at her with a mixture of amusement and amazement. “Seriously?”

Shifting one hand to the hefty cum-tanks he called balls, she mopped his shaft clean inched back. It was anypony’s guess as to how long it’d been since he’d gotten any action from a mare like her, having the looks of a porn star with a lifetime’s worth of amorous skills, but she wasn’t going to risk getting a load of his foal-batter in her stomach - not when she had somewhere better for it. As she rose to her feet and stood before him, marveling at how he’d make an incredible mate, her self-restraint shattered.

“Alright,” she grunted, “Ah’m done foolin’ around.”

Stroking her cheek, he sighed. “Well what would - Ack!”

“Ah said I’m done and Ah mean it,” she huffed as she slung him onto her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

There was a time and a place for being subtle or romantic - this wasn’t one of them. Carrying him through the entryway and into the living room, she flung him onto the sofa. Ready or not, he was going to have his world rocked by the hottest piece of geriatric ass on the planet.

Righting himself, he shook his head. “Could have warned me…”

“Oh applesauce,” she groused. Strutting over and mounting him, swinging one leg to either side of his hips, she smoothly brought her entrance to the tip of his pillar-like shaft. “Just try to keep up…”

Kissing her marehood to his cock-head, she threw her weight down. For anypony, even a seasoned mare, to wantonly impale herself on a tremendous stallionhood would be rash at best and suicidal at worst, and her hubris bit her squarely on the ass. No sooner did he fill her completely, stretching her open while crushing her womb, than she was wracked with unimaginable bliss.

He quirked a brow and hummed as she quaked atop him. “What was that about keeping up?”

“Y…you shut it,” she wheezed defiantly.

Taking a deep breath and collecting herself, she placed her hands on his shoulders and started to move. He was far from some inexperienced pup, but she was going to put him in his place if it was the last thing she did. As she lifted her waist and clenched around him, milking his dick from girthy base to bloated tip, his hands wandered to her chest.

Tearing her bra and letting her breasts spring into the open, he drifted forward. “As you’d like…”

He did as she’d asked, not saying another word, although the way he did it was equal parts torturous and exhilarating. Thrashing atop him, she screamed in ecstasy while he nursed on one tit and twisted the nipple of the other. Having her bosoms, a weak point she’d always had, would have been bad enough in and of itself, but that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Planting his feet, he thrust up into her and sent her lurching forward. Rapture overtook her, almost driving her to the cusp of insanity, yet she fought back with everything she had. She was going to prove her worth, she wouldn’t let her first tryst in ages end with her being plowed into a coma, and she’d be darned if she was going to get the upper hand.

“T…that all you got?” she growled.

Bringing her snout to his neck, she kissed and licked her way up to his ear as she bounced on his cock. Riding a stallion was a lot like riding a bike - granted, it was slightly more difficult and leagues more enjoyable, but the skill never left you after you’d mastered it. With their bodies entwined, pawing and groping one another while they fucked like two horny teenagers, their eyes met.

Heavens to Betsy - she couldn’t imagine how audacious the scene must have looked. While she and Babu were nearly the same age, she could have probably passed as his daughter or maybe even granddaughter! Hilding him and triumphantly wiggling her hips, she beamed as he reclined and clutched her ass in his hands.

“You - Buck…” he groaned as her vice-like depths constricted. “You know this’ll be different if I - Nnnnph - find out how you did this…”

“Ain’t no if about it,” she gleefully countered. While she took the reins and pounding herself on him like it was the last thing either of them would ever do, her ambition soared. “Once you have your fill, Ah reckon Ah’ll walk you to town and get you the same treatment.”

With nothing more to say, and the promise of renewing Babu’s youth on the table, the two put all their effort into the task at hand - seeing who could outlast the other. Though Granny was well aware how things would be after her striped coltfriend got his hands on a few potions from Flim and Flam, she wasn’t upset with the notion of being overpowered - on the contrary, she was elated. The last time a stallion had manhandled her was - honestly, she’d never been properly manhandled by anypony, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fantasized about being tossed around and rutted silly!

For his age, he was almost able to keep up with her - almost. She periodically altered her pace and technique, giving him a small handicap while also letting him appreciate her body. With as good as he was, giving as good as he got, she couldn’t wait until he was as energetic and hormonal as she was!

Steadily overwhelming him, she fought through a third and fourth orgasm while using him like a beefy, handsome sex-toy. Though she was only dimly aware of it, too preoccupied with the sensual task at hand to pay it any mind, her ovaries kicked into high-gear. With a particularly forceful downward plunge, crushing him into the couch, she forced his throbbing stallionhood past her cervix and into her deepest depths.

The sensation of being penetrated so deeply was beyond incredible. Even her late husband hadn’t been able to make full use of her, his cock only barely tapping against her womb when he was fully sheathed in her, yet Babu had dick to spare. While he trembled and panted under her, she breathed hotly on his ear.

“Cum…” she whispered.

As the word passed her full, pouting lips, he shot forward and bit her collar. The tinge of pain mingled with her unfathomable pleasure, giving her one final climax as he flooded her with his essence. Each pulse of his length sent gouts of spunk surging into her, marking her as his mare and claiming her body for him and him alone. Having wild flings with different stallions may have been alright with younger generations, but he was the only stallion she’d ever need.

Falling still, she glanced over at the clock out of curiosity. She’d figured they’d been going at for a while, but she was alarmed to see just how long the single bout had lasted. Over an hour - they’d been fucking for over an hour, and she wouldn’t have been bothered in the slightest if they’d kept going!

Pulling away just enough to give him a kiss on the lips, she tittered softly. “Not too bad for an older mare ~ eh?”

He laughed as he wrapped his arms around her. “Not bad at all. By the way, when we do go into town, it might not be a bad idea to pick up some birth control.”

“Pfffft - Ah ain’t never touched the stuff, and Ah ain’t startin’ now!” she harrumphed. “If’n you put a foal in me, Ah wouldn’t fuss about it - ‘sides, it ain’t like there’s such a thing as havin’ too many Apples around the farm!”

Locked in an embrace, they stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before passionately making out. It was true, there were never enough Apples in Equestria, and the world was going to get a lot more. As she groaned into his muzzle and rubbed his back, her memory soared back to how incredible it was to raise a family…

Flurry Heart

“I’ll be fine,” Flurry insisted as she wriggled from her father’s grasp and stepped away.

Smiling at his daughter, Shining nodded. “Just send us a scroll from time to time ~ alright?”

“O…or you could come back to visit on the weekends!” Cadance added from her husband’s side.

Flurry rolled her eyes and adjusted the straps of her backpack. “Seriously, it’s only a few months - anyways, I’ll see you soon!”

Waving goodbye, she shunted magic into her horn, held her breath, and teleported. The transition was instantaneous. One second, she’d been in the great hall of the Crystal Empire’s castle - the next, she was standing in an arid grassland seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As she turned and inspected her surroundings, ensuring that she hadn’t been followed, a knowing smirk split her muzzle.

“Studying abroad - Pffft,” she laughed.

She told her parents that she would be spending some time in Zebrica to study native cultures and learn traditional potion-making, although that was a half-truth. Thrusting a hand into her pocket and retrieving an innocuous band of metal, she snickered to herself. Now that she was away from prying eyes, it was time for her to make her dreams a reality.

A single Zebrican stallion was enough to satisfy anypony - as a matter of fact, more often than not, a zebra stud could usually satisfy two or even three ponies! She’d heard stories and read about mares who had their worldview turned on its head after a single night with the striped equines - for fuck’s sake, her own mom was not-so-stealthily screwing one of the big bastards every day! If her parents were any indication, and she had no reason to assume they weren’t, she’d become the newest member of her family to indulge in exotic delights.

Slipping the ring over her horn, she closed her eyes and attempted to utilize her magic. She’d experimented with the enchanted piece of jewelry before, yet the sensation it afforded, of blocking her access to any and all arcane forces, was still quite novel; it was similar to having a limb fall asleep - she could still feel it, it was still a part of her, but using it was out of the question. Denying herself the use of sorcery would have been a hindrance, had it not been for one small detail - as long as she was wearing the ring, it would be very, very difficult for anypony to locate her.

Shielding her eyes with one hand, she squinted into the distance and spotted a number of huts. So far, everything was going to plan. She’d duped her parents, arrived in Zebrica safely, and she had several months of unsupervised fun ahead of herself. Unslinging her backpack and setting it down beside herself, she began stripping out of her clothes.

While she removed one garment after another, neatly folding and stuffing each into her bag, her thoughts ran wild. It was the worst kept secret in the castle that her mom and dad had both taken zebra lovers - as if that wasn’t scandalous enough, she’d been hit on multiple times by striped studs since she’d graduated from being jail-bait. She could have - would have thrown herself at any number of the adonic stallions, yearning to be ravaged like the mares she’d seen in all the porn she routinely consumed, yet her regal status made that an impossibility.

Squatting down and rummaging through her effects, she set her jaw. Contrary to popular belief, being an alicorn sucked - yeah, she had a shit-ton of magical power, she could fly, and she lived in the lap of luxury, but she didn’t give a damn about any of that. She didn’t want a Zebrican beefcake to carry her into the sunset, nor did she pine to have a surreptitious lover - those ambitions were for chumps. For her, the only goal was to gather a harem of tall, strong, sexy stallions to serve her every amorous need.

As her fingers touched a small, plastic container, her mind snapped back to the present. “Here we go.”

She genuinely didn’t know if Zebricans, the ones who lived a simpler, more native-style life, had a fondness for striped pony mares, but she couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be into something so erotically taboo. Opening the crock and holding it in one hand, she stared down at the thick, coal-black contents. All her scheming had come to this, she was about to make her grand, whorish debut, and there wasn’t a damn thing on the planet that could stop her.

Working her way up from her ankles, she drew dark bands over every part of her body. All her late nights of getting off to striped porn, of seeing dainty pony mares being mercilessly plowed by hulking zebras, had led to this. With her task complete, she stuffed the paint back into her bag and snatched up a hand mirror to inspect herself.

Fuckin hell - she looked good. The jet black against her pastel coat, paired with her modest tits, slender waist, and ample hips, made her look like a total slut - just as planned. With all her preparations in place, and her marehood positively drenched, she took up her backpack and started walking.

It didn’t take her long to reach the village, and her approach didn’t go unnoticed. Dozens of zebras emerged from their huts or stopped what they were doing to watch her strut nearer and nearer. Would they welcome her with open arms and glorify her like a goddess? Had they even seen a pony before? Regardless of how she would be received, she got increasingly excited with each step she took.

Her eyes shot from one zebra to the next, flying past the mares while appraising the stallions, until they settled on one that stood out amongst the rest. As naked as the day he’d been born, and without a shred of humility, the monstrous stud stood a full head and shoulders above the rest of his tribe. She immediately altered course, hastened her pace, and skipped over to the monumental brute.

“So…” she hummed as she shrugged off her bag and craned her neck to peer up at the giant. “I’m guessing you’re the chief?”

The colossus slowly shook his head while staring down at her. “I…no. What are you?”

Flurry beamed. This was good - this was too fucking good. The titan clearly wasn’t familiar with alicorns, or potentially ponies in general, but that wasn’t important. Drawing her gaze between his pecs, over his rippling abs, and to his groin, she shivered in barely restrained anticipation.

She’d seen more zebra cocks than she could count over the years, although this was the first time she’d ever had the chance to view one in the flesh. Thicker than her wrist and longer than her forearm, the stud’s endowment walked a fine line between intimidating and mesmerizing. Reining herself in through sheer willpower alone, not quite willing to suck him off without getting to know his name, she shied back and extended an arm.

“I’m Flurry,” she chirped, “and I’m an alicorn.”

Eyeing her like a piece of meat, the behemoth grunted. “Dakhm…”

“Dakhm,” she quietly repeated, letting the exotic name roll off her tongue. Noticing his stallionhood twitch ever so slightly, she snickered and cupped her tits in her hands. “Like what you see, Dakhm.”

“You are…” he trailed off as she tweaked her nipples and softly moaned.

She ran a hand down her belly and to her sopping wet loins. “Hot? Wet? Fuckable? Oh I’m all those things, stud,” she purred. Closing the gap between them, she pressed herself against his chest. “If you have your way with me, you - Guh?!”

Scooping her up and into his brawny arms, he turned and marched toward a nearby hut. She could hardly believe it, this was actually happening! Lightly kicking her feet and wriggling in his grasp, she peppered his chest with kisses - unfortunately, her mirth ended when he stopped in his tracks.

He glowered down at her. “No…”

“No?” she parroted in shock. “What the hell do you - Shit!” Falling to the earth and landing with a dull thud, she rubbed her tush and scowled. “The fuck was that for, asshole? Don’t you know how to -”

“Silence,” he barked. “Only a witch or djinn would act as you do.”

As she went to get up, he reached out and kept her from standing. “Listen, I don’t know what -”

“I will conquer you and enslave you for my tribe,” he growled.

Given no time to reply, she was smacked across the face by his immense stallionhood. The blow, something that would have been innocent and funny had he been a pony, was actually jarring. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, taken aback that the ignorant peasant could be so stupid, and hastily straightened up.

“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” she sighed. “I’m not a -”

“You will be my thrall,” he interrupted. Stepping to her and grabbing her by the horn, he jammed her face against his crotch. “I am your master now, djinn.”

She’d heard him as clear as day, his unyielding tone and resolute expression made it obvious that he wasn’t yanking her chain, yet she struggled to grasp what was happening. Apparently he thought she was a djinn, whatever the fuck that was, and he was going to make her submit to his cock? There had been, were, and would be plenty of instances in life where she’d stop and question things - be that as it may, she wasn’t going to start quizzing him on his idiotic beliefs and misconceptions.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade - if life throws a big, well-hung, stud who wants to make you some mythical sex-pet at you, you roll with the punches. Grinning from ear to ear, she shuffled back and bowed her head. Fuck it - if doing a bit of spontaneous role-play with the guy meant he’d turn her out and screw her raw, she was game.

“My most sincere apologies,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything you ask, lord Dakhm.”

Leering at her, he released her horn and expectantly placed his hands on his hips. “Your lies aren’t fooling anypony, djinn. If you mean what you say, prove it by pleasing me.”

She lifted a finger to tell him she wasn’t lying, although an alluring aroma wafting to her nostrils caused her to falter. The smell, whatever it was, resonated with her very soul, the deepest parts of her id, and it was so strong that she could focus on nothing else. As she turned her head and followed the scent, it dawned on her.

Holy fucking shit - it was him, she was smelling him! She’d been around plenty of stallions before, both in the castle and throughout her classes at the School of Friendship, but not one of them had a bouquet anything close to what Dakhm had! With shaking hands, she reverently hefted the enormous stallionhood ominously throbbing to life.

With a twist of his hips, he smacked his dick against her muzzle. “Will you force me to -”

“N…no,” she stammered while fleetingly glancing up at his face. “No, I got this…”

For as long as she’d fantasized about it, kneeling before a god-like stallion, she was not ready for this. There were vague, fragmented ideas that swirled around in her head, yet there was nothing cohesive she could draw from! If she was to leave Zebrica as a failure, she’d have to trust her instincts and lean on what limited experience she had.

While she wasn’t a virgin, doing anything even remotely lewd with a stallion of Dakhm’s caliber - to make matters all the more one-sided, her largest dildo looked like a fucking toothpick next to the pendulous length inches from her face. Cradling his balls and lifting his shaft, she gave his cock-head an introductory kiss.

The heady musk filling her lungs was intoxicating, but the flavor of his unwashed flesh on her lips was enough to cloud her mind completely. Her primal desires surpassed her higher functions, compelling her to surrender to his masculine might, and she didn’t even try to fight them. As she tongued the tip of his length while gently stroking him off, coaxing pre-cum from his shaft and into her maw, her marehood dribbled arousal down her inner thighs.

“Good,” he breathed.

With that one word, the smallest complement, she quaked with joy. Up until just a few seconds ago, she hadn’t known he existed - still, his authority over her was unquestionable. He was a majestic, powerful stallion, and she was a fertile mare in her prime - it was nature at its finest. Her place was beneath him, to please him and bear him an heir, and they both fully understood that simple truth at a fundamental level.

Staring down his imposing length, Flurry gulped. There was no way in hell she’d be able to suck on the first couple inches of his cock - even then, her oral skills were sorely lacking. Altering course, she ran her cheek down the side of his shaft then lowered her head. As she tongued his plump, ripe nuts, the ache in her loins grew more intense.

Dakhm’s cum-tanks were each bigger than one of her fists, resembling a pair of small, fuzzy melons, and merely fondling them make her giddy. She’d bet her money that anypony, be they a pony or otherwise, who he dumped a fat load of foal-batter into would most certainly get knocked up. While she lapped the sweat from his balls, she softly cooed and groaned in hedonistic rapture.

Things may have gone off course just a touch, winding up with her kneeling before a zebra, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Once other villagers witnessed her resplendence, and saw that she was willing to fraternize with commoners, she’d be lavished with praise and touted as the divine creature that she was - until then, there was no harm in showing her appreciation for the colossal brute. Shoving her snout between his stallionhood and coin purse, she blinked when he shied away from her.

“What are you doing?” he snarled.

Staring dumbfounded up at him, she shrugged. “Duh, it’s called foreplay. Do you guys seriously not -”

“Silence!” he shouted. “I told you to please me ~ did I not?”

“Right,” she grumbled.

She closed her eyes and extended her tongue while she leaned forward. The last thing she wanted to do was tick him off, particularly because most of the village had shown up to view the spectacle she was making of herself, although blowing him wasn’t going to be easy. Carefully working him into her muzzle, she winced and promptly withdrew when she felt her jaw pop.

How the fuck could anypony be expected to suck this guy off? His dick was bigger around than some clubs she’s seen in the castle’s armory, and she was in no hurry to find out what he’d do if he felt her teeth against his tool. Stuck at an impasse, she timidly smiled and fidgeted in place.

Dakhm sneered. “Pathetic beast. Since you either can’t or won’t do as you’re told, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. Present yourself.”

Though a pang of apprehension shot through her, she didn’t hesitate to turn away, get on all fours, and put a sway in her back. After all the things she’d done, spending weeks crafting a believable story to explain her prolonged absence, demeaning herself before a group of savages wasn’t going to stop her. While Dakhm approached her from behind and sank to one knee, her indecision warred with her raging libido.

“Since you’re no better than an animal,” Dakhm muttered while grabbing her hips and pulling her to himself, “I’ll take you as one.”

As the pressure on her entrance mounted, Flurry knew she had to make a decision. She could fly away, return to the Crystal Empire, and pretend like this hadn’t happened, or she could let herself be ruined by the primitive stud in front of his entire tribe. In the end, after no more than a heartbeat, her impulses made the decision for her.

She braced her knees, pushed with her arms, and heaved her weight back with every ounce of her might. In an all but literal flash, her pupils shrank to pinpricks, her entire body tensed, and her jaw fell open in a noiseless scream. She thought she knew what true happiness was, the euphoric bliss of a powerful climax, yet she’d never been more wrong.

Ecstasy like she’d never known, so potent that it blinded out the entirety of her existence, consumed her. To call what she endured a climax would be a disservice, so great was the raw pleasure that washed over her. The experience was transformative, a baptism in everything but name, and her elated howl was a testament to the grandeur of the moment.

Gradually stuffing his cock into her upturned ass, Dakhm laughed. “See how pitiful she is! The demon mewls out like a needy sow!”

Sow - for whatever reason, the humiliating title did anything but sully Flurry’s mood - if anything, it served as an anchor to what she really was. Irrespective of if they were of royal blood or not, a mare’s biological purpose was to have children, irrespective of if they were of royal blood or not. The entire reason she’d traveled to Zebrica was to cut loose and get laid with as many studs as she could, yet a new, altogether more meaningful urge steadily waxed in power.

“T…take me,” she croaked. “I’ll be your s…sow, your broodmare, I p…promise.”

“You won’t be my sow,” Dakhm tutted. Swinging his arms wide, he gestured at the gathering throng. “You’ll be the village’s sow, a plaything for any stallion wanting relief, and your bastard foals will make our tribe strong!”

She could sense his intention through his rigid length, his virility resonating through his stallionhood, and she involuntarily responded. The unseeded egg in her womb was joined by a second, then a third and a fourth, while she produced one ovum after another. Alicorns were a great many things, nigh-immortal and fierce wielders of magic, and their maternal potential was unrivaled.

Stopping just shy of hilting her, Dakhm began lazily rutting her in earnest. “Beg for it, show me - us how deeply you -”

“Please!” she wailed, having rebounded from one orgasm to teeter on the cusp of another. “Ruin me! Fuck as many foals - Aaaaaaaaaaahn!”

Her plea morphed into a shrill wail as she came again. Falling forward and onto her tits, she heaved air and dust into her lungs. They couldn’t have been at it for more than a few minutes - fuckin’ hell, he’d only delivered a handful of thrusts, but she’d been reduced to a whimpering, squirting mess. The irony was palpable - she’d been undone by her pride, and she was loving every second of it.

“Hey,” a sonorous voice intoned.

Peeking up with a single eye, Flurry discovered a second stallion looming over her. He wasn’t as tall or muscular as Dakhm, yet the view of his dangling stallionhood and cum-laden balls filled her with determination. She steeled her resolve and pushed herself up, hellbent on warming up her second suitor.

Propping herself up on one arm was a herculean endeavor, attempting to keep herself steady took an inordinate amount of effort, and weakly dragging her tongue over the unnamed stud’s dick was virtually impossible, but she wouldn’t let herself. From what she’d seen, there were at least a dozen stallions in the village, and potentially others who were waiting in the wings, so she had her work cut out for her. Throwing herself forward and back, she eagerly sucked one massive cock while getting rail by a second, even more gargantuan stallionhood.

Had anypony from the Crystal Empire seen her in such a state, she’d be dead - probably worse than dead. For a mare to so recklessly fling herself to the lecherous wolves, offering herself on a silver platter, would be crazy, and it was even more absurd for her. She was destined to rule an empire, to take her mother’s crown when the day came, yet she’d caved to her lust.

Her third orgasm was catastrophic, sending her falling back to the dirt as Dakhm hastened his pace. The rhythmic Whud Whud Whud of his hips impacting her ass and balls crashing against her clit formed a drumbeat that was punctuated by his heavy breaths and throaty growls. Twisting to one side and trying to get back up, she gasped when she looked back at herself.

The unmistakable imprint of Dakhm’s stallionhood pistoned within her abdomen, reforging her interior and despoiling her in a way that she couldn’t fully comprehend. She was aware that alicorns were remarkably durable, capable of withstanding an inordinate amount of physical or arcane harm, yet to bear witness to her own undoing, watching herself being ruined for anypony who wasn’t as hung as the savage fucking her, was her undoing.

Something within her mind shattered to pieces. None of this should have been happening, everything had gone wrong, and accepting that gave way to untold bliss. One orgasm led into another and another, creating an ouroboros of mind-numbing ecstasy. All her concerns slipped away, dissolving and disappearing beneath a tide of profound gratification.

Her taut, rosy depths were drawn out with each of Dakhm backstrokes, exposing her interior to the balmy, open air, before he forced himself back into her. There was no going back after this, and he was making sure of it. He was remaking her from the inside out, stripping away the naive little mare who’d sought an amorous adventure to reveal some lecherous thing that lived for its base desires.

Regular stallions of any variety just couldn’t compete. Zebras were stronger, bigger, and an order of magnitude more equipped than their pony counterparts, it was basic biology. Superior males succeeded and carried on their lineage, while those weak or found wanting were bred out of existence.

Lost in a nirvana of her own making, she was given incoherent glimpses of the waking world. Several stallions stood around jacking off to her, and a few mares were getting off as well, although none of them seemed to finish. Absently musing on why she wasn’t showered with cum, it came to her.

They were waiting - each of them was waiting for their turn with her. The tribe had proclaimed her as some sort of threat, an evil spirit or demon, and they were going to help Dakhm make good on his promise. By the time they were done, she’d be a broken husk of a mare that lived to satiate their most depraved cravings.

Envisioning herself as some shackled thing, a living toy for the village, chipped away at who and what she was. The to-be Princess of the Crystal Empire was or would soon be gone - in her place, a needy breeder would be hidden away in the far-flung reaches of Zebrica. While some small piece of her implored her to flee, to retreat back to the safety and security of her home, it was too late.

Feeling the flaring tip of Dakhm’s length battering her cervix, she looked back with a demented glint in her eye. “Breed me!!!”

Her appeal was well-timed or struck a chord - regardless, Dakhm tightly gripped her hips, buried his length, and gave a triumphant roar. Rivers of cum coursed through his stallionhood and flowed into her, delivering pint after seething pint of essence right where it belonged. Without any protection whatsoever, sorcerous or conventional, she knew she was done for.

Dakhm didn’t allow her to relish it, wrenching his cock from her spasming marehood to add spatters of white to the black paint on her back. “You’re ours…”

As he stood and strode away, a second stallion took his place, effortlessly plunged into her gaped, cum-slickened cunt, and began pounding away. Save for the gentle rocking caused by his thrusts, she didn’t move. As she listened to the stud growling, the crowd’s excited whispers, and the moans driven out of her, a crazed smirk split her snout.

Mom had Zafi, Dad was always running around with the amazoness Irọyin, and she had an entire village all to herself. She’d start her own kingdom, one of beautiful, striped half-breeds, and she would live out her nearly endless years being knocked up over and over and over again. Summoning a strength she didn’t know she had, with her belly hanging heavy with seed beneath her, she pushed back to meet her lover.

Paternity roulette - she’d heard the phrase spoken in hushed whispers, typically amongst those with a penchant for risky sex, and it was a game she’d be playing for a long, long time. Maybe she’d eventually end up being screwed by her own children, or perhaps the tribe would be gracious enough to lend out her services to neighboring communities - ultimately, it mattered little. She’d forsaken her birthright in exchange of being property, the eternal mother of native, uncultured barbarians, and she’d found her place in the world…

Babs Seed

Babs thrust a hand into her pocket as walked down the hallway and to the front door of her apartment. Her shift hadn’t been as bad as some, only having a handful of particularly annoying customers come into the convenience store she worked at, but she was more than ready to be home. Stopping on the welcome mat, she kicked off her feet before seeing herself in.

As she pushed the door open, a deep voice called out. “That you, baby girl?”

Despite her furrowed brow, she smiled. “Who the hell else would it be?”

There were only two keys to her flat, excluding the one maintenance kept stashed away, so she couldn’t help but be a bit cynical - plus her roommate deserved to be given a hard time. Trudging through the foyer and into the kitchen, she made a beeline to the fridge. The late hour and the fact that all she’d had to eat in the last few hours was a shitty candy bar, a bag of peanuts, and a freezer-burned pizza pocket would have made her hungry under ordinary circumstances, although the circumstances weren’t quite ordinary.

She opened the fridge and peeked down at herself as the door bumped against her belly. “Damn it…”

Heavy footfalls approached her from behind, before a thick, meaty hand ran over her shoulder. “What’s wrong, dumplin’?”

“Dumplin’?” she barked. Whipping around and slapping the hand away from her shoulder, she craned her neck upward and scowled. “Don’t you dumplin’ me!”

Towering over her by nearly two solid feet, colossus smiled placidly down upon her. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the reason I’m like this!” she snapped while reaching up to prod his broad chest with a finger. “Before your fat ass came into my life, I was half this size.”

“Less,” he coolly corrected. “I’d say you were - oh - maybe a third of your - Ow!”

Retracting her balled fist and cocking it back, she squinted up at him. “Want another one, smart guy?”

He threw his hands up in surrender and frowned. “Sorry! Just wanted to see how my baby girl was doin’, I swear.”

She wanted to be mad at him, but that was a tall order. She’d known Berg for well over a year, and he was the reason she was in such a pitiable state. Sensing something shift inside her abdomen, she peeked down at herself.

To put it lightly, she was exquisitely gravid, so large that she looked like she could pop at any minute, and her appearance played only a part in her frustration. She’d always been relatively hot-headed, a spitfire as her mom had called it, yet her temper had grown more erratic after she’d been knocked up. Along with her usual sarcasms, she’d find the pendulum of her disposition swinging from melancholic to apathetic - worse still, and easily the most infuriating, was that her libido had become stronger as her pregnancy had progressed.

Reeling back as something huge and billowing landed on her head, she was shaken from her stupor. “The fuck, Berg?”

Pulling the thing from off herself, she grimaced down at the oversized t-shirt in her hands. Her intuition told her not to look at him, that to do so would play right into his trap, yet her impulses, paired with the scent she’d breathed in off his attire, proved too strong for her. As she lifted her gaze to him, her marehood seized upon itself.

Even for a zebra, Berg was big - like, really fucking big. Not only was he taller and vastly stronger than her, but his impressive height was rivaled or even eclipsed by just how damn broad he was. The guy was, as the kids said, thick, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t huge.

“What?” he hummed. Bringing his hands behind his head, he struck a pose and chuckled. “I thought this might make you feel better.”

While she absentmindedly peered at his massive pecs, muscular gut, and trunk-like limbs, the smoldering embers of her lust ignited. The instant her eyes drifted down to his boxers, subconsciously drawn by the prospect of getting a peek at his heavenly package, she clenched her teeth and snarled. No - she hadn’t worked a full shift just to walk home and get seduced by the big, lovable, sexy…

“Nope,” she grunted, having caught herself dwelling on how incredible he was. Sidestepping him and making for the exit, she flipped a double one-finger salute over her shoulders. “I’m gonna go get something greasy to pig out on.”

It was his fault that she was carrying triples, her relationship with him was the reason she’d ended up moving out of her parents’ place, and she’d rather go for a walk by her lonesome than fall into his clutches again - at least, that’s what she told herself. Reaching the front door, she came to a sudden halt when a hand closed around her wrist.

“Let go,” she flatly stated without looking back.

Loosening his grip, but not releasing her, Berg sighed. “I’m sorry ~ alright? It’s late, you’re tired, and I should’ve cut you some slack.”

She snatched her arm free and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Should’ve thought about that before showing your ass.”

There was a pause, a long pause, before he softly replied. “Listen, you know I don’t like when you go out at this time of night. Things might be different if - you know, you weren’t carrying our kids, or if we were in a nicer part of Manehattan, but you are and we’re not.”

His hushed voice, laying in stark contrast to his gargantuan figure, dripped with concern. There weren’t many ponies who’d ever cared for her, and fewer still who’d remained close to her over the years, yet Berg was one of them. As she reluctantly glanced back and saw his crestfallen expression, her irritation died.

She may have changed her mind on account of him, and since she really didn’t want to go back out after just getting home, but she’d have to play her cards carefully. Being overly affectionate wasn’t, nor had it ever been, her style - bearing that in mind, she couldn’t bring herself to give him a hug and accept his apology. Spinning on one heel, she faced him and folded her arms over her mountainous bust.

“Well?” she tutted while tapping one foot.

Cocking his head to one side, he gave an innocent shrug. “Well what? I said I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough,” she petulantly huffed. “I don’t accost you right after you get off work…”

He turned his eyes up to the ceiling, softly snickered, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, if you don’t count that time last week when I walked in on you sniffing my underwear and - Hey!”

Her second blow, a jab to his side, silenced him. “I told you not to mention that…”

“Right,” he mumbled while rubbing his flank. “I guess I’m remembering that other time where you ambushed me and tore my - Quit!”

She delivered a flurry of punches to his stomach before he could recount the ignominious tale. Fuck if she was going to let him keep calling her out, even if he hadn’t been lying about catching her masturbating while smelling his used briefs, or the time when she’d really wanted to choke herself on his dick, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Strutting past him, she moved into the den and his prized recliner.

“Stop your bellyaching,” she groused. “It’s not like any of that actually hurt you.”

Trailing along after her, he stopped at her side. “You’re wrong…”

She rolled her eyes and cautiously eased herself down. “Bullshit, we both know -”

“It hurt my feelings,” he pouted.

Having to jam her face into her palms to keep herself from laughing, she shook her head. Somehow, as infuriating as it was, he always had a way of defusing the situation. Between his bulky physique, easygoing disposition, and the way he looked after her, he was perfect in every way, almost like he’d been made for her. Flinching as a pair of hands ran over her shoulders, she forced a frown back on her muzzle.

Digging his thumbs into the muscles of her upper back, he leaned over the chair’s back and kissed the top of her head. “Will you forgive me, baby girl?”

She tried - oh how she tried to keep up her act, but the twofold assault of having the tension kneaded out of her, while hearing his solemn, regretful tone, was too much for her to handle. Throwing her hands up and sinking into the chair, she exasperatedly sighed in defeat. An impromptu massage wasn’t exactly the same as getting a filling meal, although it certainly beat going to get overpriced takeout.

“Rough night at the shop?” he quietly asked.

“Less talking, more rubbing,” she hummed.

Shudderingly exhaling, she closed her eyes and savored his affection. A lifetime of manual labor, the bulk of which being spent in construction, had forged him into a powerhouse, although he was never overly rough with her - well, no, he wasn’t rough with her often. Prior to them discovering she was carrying his foals, prompted to visit a local clinic after she’d woken up nauseous for several days in a row, he would routinely manhandle her and roughhouse with her - sadly, those days were put on hold until she’d delivered their trio of kids.

As if sensing themselves being spoken of, one or more of the tykes started wriggling around in her belly. She’d never given much consideration to being a mother, taking a neutral stance on the matter when she’d been growing up, but that had changed in a big way. Pride, hope, and love blossomed in her heart as her unborn young had grown bigger and stronger with every passing day, and Berg was just as elated and enthused about having children as she was.

Bringing one huge mitt around and over her belly, he hesitated. “Can I?”

“I don’t see why not - after all, you’re the one who put ‘em in me,” she quipped.

He smiled broadly and placed his palm against the taut skin of her abdomen. “You sure they’re mine?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure,” she shot back. “Are you sure they won’t have a bunch of half-siblings running around Equestria?”

“Oh please,” he countered. Stepping away from her, he waved a hand at himself. “Have you seen this? What kinda mare would want an old, overweight stallion like me - no, hard-headed, apparently blind earth pony mares who’re half my age don’t count.”

Pinching the bridge of her snout, if only to prevent herself from drooling over him, she smirked. Was he old enough to be her father? By a slim margin, yes. Did that mean she didn’t find him extraordinarily attractive? Not by a long shot. Unlike most mares, the ones who went chasing after stallion’s who spent morning, noon, and night in gyms, she preferred more natural, strapping studs, ones who wouldn’t run around behind her back, and Berg was a shining example of that.

“Says the stallion I was gushing over when you met me and carried my groceries,” she mused.

He flashed his smile while shooting her a wink. “Says the mare who was crazy enough to ask me out on a date.”

“Well it worked ~ didn’t it?” she cackled.

Bumping into him at the grocery store was easily the best thing that had ever happened in her life. Most stallions were scared of her, and with good reason, but not Berg - not even the tiniest bit. He was the only stud she’d ever crossed paths with who would put up with her shit and come back for seconds with a smile on his face.

“You should’ve seen me in my younger days,” he noted. Shaking his hips and gyrating in place, he ran his hands down his chest. “Bet you would’ve -”

“Oh shut up,” she chirped. Groaning as she stood, she crossed to him and gave him a hug. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

She squeezed him tightly and pressed her cheek to his chest. The warmth he afforded was anything but superficial - sure, it felt nice to bask in his body heat, but it was his fondness for her that truly touched her. Soon enough, they’d have a family, a sextet of little feet pitter-pattering around their apartment, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t get new sisters or brothers before too long.

“I - um - baby?” he murmured.

Shuffling back just enough to peer up at him, she followed his eyes and peeked down at herself. Though she was wearing a shirt, bra, and nursing pads, two patches of damp fabric were expanding over her breasts. Great - fucking wonderful - what was supposed to be a tender moment had turned into an embarrassing incident and an eventual trip to the laundromat.

“That’s - Ahem,” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

Narrowing her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips. “That’s what…”

She didn’t have to get an answer to know what he was talking about - hell, she didn’t even need to look at his groin. The sight of her tits never failed to get him excited, yet that had gotten exponentially worse since she’d started lactating. Annoyed, hungry, and slightly turned on by the unexpected turn of events, she stomped over to the couch.

There was only one way this was going to end - she knew it, he almost certainly knew it, and the neighbors probably knew it as well. Having pulled her shirt up and over her head, she sat down and reached behind her back to fiddle with the clasp on her bra. Seeing as how getting her pussy wrecked was far from the worst way to relax, and that Berg would be elated to have some fun himself, it only made sense to wave the white flag and let them both blow off a bit of steam.

“Ah,” she clucked as he shuffled closer to her. “You know the deal.”

Clasping a hand to his chest, Berg gave a small bow. “I swear…”

She quickly removed her bra, tossed it to the side, and began the arduous process of wriggling out of her pants. There was something wickedly sinful about getting him to perform for her, and she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of it. After finally stripping down and throwing her attire to the side, leaving herself fully exposed, she splayed her legs and gave a deep, gratified sigh.

There’d never been a time when she gave a shit about showing her naked body to him, and her pregnancy hadn’t changed that. Cupping one weighty tit in one hand, she reached around her distended belly to stroke her slavering, winking marehood. As Berg hauled his shorts down his bulky legs, her focus lay solely on the ebony length that was gradually revealed.

Even before she’d met him, she was wise to how incredible Zebrican lovers could be. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom exclusively fucked the striped stallions, and she’d met plenty of other mares who had zebra coltfriends, but it wasn’t until Berg had come into her life that she truly understood the appeal of the exotic equines. Sinking two then three fingers into her snatch, she gnawed her bottom lip when he stood and lazily stroked himself off.

“Hope you like what you see, baby girl, because it’s all for you,” he purred.

It had taken her quite a bit of time to acclimate to his immense endowment, but when she eventually did - holy fuck, she knew she couldn’t go back to regular pony stallions. Bucking into her hand while she effectively milked herself, squeezing and stroking the engorged, rock-hard nipple on her right tit, she suppressed a pleased whimper. Just seeing and thinking about how amazing she’d feel when he stuck his cock in her, filling her cunt to the breaking point, was nearly enough to make her climax on the spot.

He strutted over with a sway in his hips, taking his time until he stopped and stood between her legs. “Wanna warm me up?”

Seeing the fat veins along his phenomenal length pulse in tune with his heart, she had to force herself not to suck him off. Crafty fucker - he probably figured she’d slobber on his dick without questioning him, although that wasn’t going to happen this time. As she lifted one leg, rested her foot on the arm of the sofa, and beckoned to him with a finger, he eyed her plump, sopping wet loins.

“How about you warm me up instead,” she cooed, “daddy.”

Berg visibly shivered, his cheeks darkened, and he sank to his knees without saying a word. She was his baby girl, he was her daddy, although they weren’t technically related. He truly did treat her like his daughter in many ways, fawning and fretting over her in equal measure, and she viewed him as a father figure. While the dynamic was admittedly weird, and made all the stranger by the extensive gap in their ages, the taboo nature of their relationship made the sex downright godly.

Burying his face in her crotch, he gave a low, growl-like purr. Being pregnant came with a good number of pros and cons, but one of the biggest drawbacks was that she couldn’t watch him as he was eating her out. Reclining and grabbing both of her teats, she shut her eyes and fixated on the feeling of his tongue gliding between her lower lips.

He really did have a mouth on him, and it was good for a hell of a lot more than giving her sass. Resting on one knee, he slipped his arms under her legs, pulled her in, and feasted upon her sex. Being taken in and knocked up by an older stallion came with a boatload of perks, including the remarkable way he put his pouting lips and skillful tongue to use.

“R…right there,” she rasped as he suckled on her clit.

He would’ve been happy to stay down there until she’d baptized him in her orgasmic juices - shit, after all the times he’d done just that, she was pretty sure he actually liked being hosed down in her nectar! Pushing her breasts together while hauling on her teats, she sent jets of milk spraying over her belly and the top of his head. She could easily have cum just from getting eaten out, yet restraining herself served a dual purpose - it honed her endurance, and she’d rather avoid giving him the gratification of climaxing before him.

Knowing what he was doing, and probably understanding that she was holding herself back, he played her like a damn fiddle. As soon as she started getting close to her limit, with her breath hitching in her throat and heart thundering in her bosom, he’d swap tactics or change his rhythm. It was the best kind of maddening, getting edged until she was so horny that it practically hurt, and the pleasurable onslaught took a toll on her.

Sucking air through her teeth, she leaned to one side while gently kicking a heel to his shoulder. “H…hey…”

Berg straightened up, licked his lips, and coolly slid a hand down her inner thigh to rub her clit with his thumb. “Yeah?”

“C…could - Mmmmph,” she snorted, railing against the bolts of bliss shooting through her. “Sit down for me.”

Swinging a leg over his head, she shuffled over and made some room on the cough. The added weight of three foals, in addition to the extra chub she’d accumulated from having a ravenous appetite, made sex a bit more complicated than it used to be. When he got up and took the space she’d just been occupying, her mind shot to one of two options for how to proceed.

She loved to be on top, so cowgirl was guaranteed, although she was torn between facing him or turning her back to him. As she looked down at him and drank him in, marveling at his size, physique, and handsome face, the decision made itself. Bending forward at the waist, she grabbed the sofa’s back as she ponderously straddled him.

“Come to daddy,” he rumbled.

The split-second warning she was given wasn’t nearly enough for her to alter course. As he lifted and nursed upon her bosoms, while using his fingers to tweak the one nipple he wasn’t sucking on, her legs gave out and she fell. Be it from fortune, fate, or a combination of the two, having just brought her groin over the imposing monolith that was his cock, she crashed upon him and unceremoniously impaled herself.

The ecstasy of being stretched open in a blink, positively stuffed with Berg’s prodigious stallionhood, momentarily robbed her of her strength - but only momentarily. Wading through a sea of bliss, she locked eyes with him and pressed her hands to his shoulders. She’d been taken off guard, although she was going to make him pay for that.

“Oh daddy,” she whined, bucking her hips and clamping around his length, “you’re so big.”

Extending his arms and grabbing her dump truck of an ass, he smiled broadly as he planted his feet and tensed his legs. “That’s right, baby girl, and it’s all for you…”

He let her get into a steady rhythm, enjoying the view of her massive tits leaking and flopping around, before he began moving in tune with her. Neither of them were in the best of shape, and their bellies were so large that there was a considerable amount of space between them, yet they’d adapted to her gravid state. Driving his hips up to meet her plunges, he pounded into her from below.

Babs’ eyes rolled to the back of her head. Bigger guys - fuck. Had somepony told her she’d eventually shack up with a bigger, older daddy, she would have scoffed at them and possibly given them a black eye - in spite of that, Berg had shown her the joys of seasoned, full-figured studs. Bracing herself on one arm, she arched her back and brought her tits closer to his face.

Just as she’d hoped for, he didn’t let the opportunity pass him by. Craning his neck forward, he latched onto her breast and helped himself to a mouthful of rich, creamy milk. The added stimulation was fantastic, and it erased what little self-control she had left.

They’d been fucking one another for so long that they’d learned how to work in perfect concert. Running her fingers through his mohawk, she constricted his shaft in her depths. She wasn’t, nor had she ever been that loose of a mare, with only a small number of partners and flings in the past, and that nearly all of her sexual know-how was custom-tailored to suit his needs.

“D…daddy,” she groaned.

The line between acting and reality blurred as her instincts took hold. Manehattan was about to have a brand new MILF on the block, and she couldn’t wait to show herself off. The idea of strutting around with an expansive bust, extra cushion and the pushin’, and one hell of a caboose was made leagues more appealing from denying any would-be admirers. Other stallions could look, that was fine, but she belonged to her dearest daddy.

Pulling back and growling, Berg glanced up at her. “Hang tight, baby.”

Harder and harder, faster and faster, they slammed their bodies together while trying to outdo each other. It was a competition of sorts, as was typical, and although Babs routinely lost, a magical combination of her stamina, added weight, and cow-like bosoms gave her a rare advantage. Fighting tooth and nail not to cum, balanced on the razor’s edge of climactic oblivion, she went in for the kill.

Holding his head in her hands, she shot forward and locked lips with him. He was a sucker for the little things, especially passionate ones, and the deep kiss was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sheathing himself in her quaking cunt, he seated his flaring cock-head against her womb and came.

The influx of foal-batter obliterated didn’t usher her past the tipping point - it hurled her beyond it. As she squealed into his muzzle and around his muscular tongue, her toes curled and mind went blank. If having her daddy drain blow a fat load into her needy cunt wasn’t the best to unwind after a long, taxing day at work, nothing was.

Shuddering and riding out their rapture, they withdrew, peered into each other’s eyes, and giggled like a pair of naughty foals. Of all the things life had given her, she was the most grateful for Berg. Purely by happenstance, they’d found each other, built a loving relationship, and were well on their way to starting a family.

He pecked her cheek and gave her rump a playful little smack. “So now are you gonna go make dinner?”

Staring blankly at him, she punched his shoulder and guffawed. “Takeout?”

Feigning a wince, he couldn’t keep the smile from his muzzle. “Takeout it is.”

Spoiled Rich

Spoiled flicked a lock of mane away from her face as she lifted her head and peered at the bathroom mirror. The black of her attire, a matching set of panties, garter belt, leggings, and bra, clashed wondrously with the magenta of her mane and pink coat, although they were just gilding the lily. Motherhood and age had come with a number of benefits, two of the largest being the massive tits weighing heavily upon her chest.

It was ironic - when she’d been younger, nubile and svelte, she’d feared getting older more than anything else, yet she’d only become more attractive as the years had passed. She could and often would turn the heads of ponies half her age, even going so far as to wear skirts that were a bit too short for her, and the gratification of flaunting herself was one of the few joys left to her. Since Diamond was grown and out of the house, having spontaneously moved out with some coltfriend, she was finally free to do what she wanted - well, almost free to do what she wanted.

The love between her and Filthy was a bad joke - one that had grown painfully stale. She’d gotten married to avoid a scandal, finding out she was carrying his foal, and to substantially bolster her finances. While she did come from wealth, her family being as or more affluent to the Rich’s fortunes, there was no such thing as having too many bits in her bank account.

As she plucked a tube of lipstick from beside the sink, her eyes strayed to her phone when it started to chime. It didn’t matter how many calls or texts she got, she was not going to let anything interrupt her special night. Now that she was unburdened from all the bullshit in her life, able to pursue whatever flights of fancy she chose, the last thing she was going to deal with was distractions.

With her makeup completed, she straightened and inspected herself. Aside from the crows feet and the bit of pudge hanging over her garter belt, a detail that a surprising number of stallions found fetching, she was ready for her big night. She’d imagined this moment for years, letting herself go like some young, dumb, horny teenager, and now it was time to make those dreams a reality.

She glanced over to her purse, shook her head, and began to chuckle. She’d brought a bottle of lube as a precaution, on the off chance that she may need it, although she shouldn’t have bothered. From the moment she stepped into her room and stripped out of her dress, she’d been positively drenched.

That was the best part about all this - the anticipation. There was an incredible thrill to live out a fantasy, and it took an incredible amount of self control to maintain her composure. Turning away from the mirror, she looked over her shoulder, slapped her generous, doughy ass, and smugly grinned at herself. With all her preparations in place, the only thing left to do was keep her fingers crossed that everything went according to plan.

With her rock-hard nipples grinding against her bra, marehood soaking her panties, and heart thundering in her chest, she turned and strutted out. The stink of cigarettes and mildew clashed with the perfume she wore, although the dinginess of the suite added a certain je ne sais quoi. Given what she was about to do, her seedy surroundings were quite fitting.

“Hot damn,” a low, gravely voice intoned as the bed creaked. “Really swinging for the fences ~ eh?”

Spoiled turned her heavily-lidded gaze to the side. Rising to his full height, having just gotten up from the mattress, Kion looked her up and down while smirking. He was young enough to be her son, and he was absolutely perfect. His arrogant and shameless demeanor was complemented exquisitely by his rugged aesthetic, muscular build, and immense size.

Cocking her hip, she shifted to face him. “It’s a special occasion ~ is it not?”

“Special?” he quipped. “I guess it depends on what you mean by special.”

He crossed to her, clutched her tit, and snickered. The way he touched her was boorish, hardly the sort of thing a mare her age should tolerate, but it was exactly what she craved. At their core, stallions were supposed to take what they wanted, vying for dominance with one another while seeking to satiate their primal needs, and Kion did not disappoint on that front.

Her eyes trailed down his bare chest, past his sculpted abs, and to the profound swell in his pants. She was already worked up, the expectation alone causing her marehood to wink excitedly, so seeing the imprint of his massive stallionhood was almost enough to make her fall to her knees - almost. Were she not as seasoned as she was, having decades of sexual experience under her belt, she may have fallen to her knees to suck him off right then and there, although she managed to restrain herself.

Slipping his hand into her bra, he brazenly groped her breast. “I can’t get enough of these fat cow tits of yours.”

She smirked as she reached over and ran her hand over his denim-covered length. “Somepony has a mommy kink…”

Barking out a laugh, he shook his head. “If’n you mean I’m gonna pump a foal into your whore-ass, yeah, I reckon I do.”

“If you haven’t already,” she mused.

Locking eyes with him, she smiled and deftly unbuttoned his pants. This wasn’t the first such exchange between them, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last, yet such instances were always electrifying. The wrongness of it, from the adulterous element to submitting to somepony who was beneath her in virtually every way, was a sinful indulgence that was addictive.

Withdrawing his hand, he hooked a finger beneath her chin. “You’re a bad bitch.”

She flashed her teeth as her hand drifted into his boxers and gave his cock a squeeze. “No,” she breathed, “I’m your bad bitch.”

“Damn right you are,” he growled.

Shooting forward, he locked lips with her and drove his tongue into her muzzle. The kiss was bestial, more of a show of force than one of affection. She closed her eyes and softly moaned, making no attempt to escape. He’d claimed her, rekindled something within her that she thought had died ages ago, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

He pulled away, leaving strands of saliva connecting their lips, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Get to work, bitch. I know you’ve been wanting this.”

Kissing her way downward, she left a trail of lipstick marks between his pecs and abdomen. As she came into an obscene squat and pulled down his jeans, a bead of nectar dripped from her sodden loins to the dirty carpet beneath her. She could tell from the smell alone that he hadn’t showered that day, and the wild, untamed scent was just what she’d been hoping for.

A more demure, refined mare may have been frightened of him, considering he was practically feral, but not her - not any longer. Their first tryst, spurred purely by happenstance, had been a life-altering experience. The tumultuous cocktail of fear and exhilaration upon meeting him and seeing his endowment had been crushed beneath the devastating, mind-numbing bliss of serving him.

Lifting his shaft in both hands, leaving his pants and underwear around his ankles, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue. There was a reason so many ponies had grown quite fond of their striped cousins from Zebrica, and her only regret in seeing if the rumors were true was that she hadn’t done so sooner. As she turned her eyes upward and to his face, she wrapped her lips around his blunt, nearly fist-sized crown.

Everything about him was savage. The conceited smile he bore, the matted dreadlocks flowing over his roguishly handsome face, the bestial aroma of his unwashed loins, the taste of sweat on his velvety skin - they demanded her fealty, and she was eager to give it. Filling her lungs with his heavenly musk, she rammed her head forward and forced him into her throat.

He growled without looking away from her. “Atta girl, don’t be afraid to - Hah!”

Knowing what he’d been about to say, she pulled at her top and let her bust spill into the open. She’d always been rather chesty, although having and breastfeeding Diamond had given her an even larger rack - granted, her mountainous breasts had suffered a bit from age and gravity, but that Kion was immeasurably fond of them. Bobbing her head and swabbing her gullet, she hefted and fondled one bosom.

Aside from feeling good, her breasts being incredibly sensitive, groping herself served another purpose - a purpose that made itself evident within mere seconds. Kion broadened his stance, weaved his hands through her mane, and gripped the back of her skull. Like most stallions his age, he was none too shy about asserting himself with a receptive, enthusiastic lover.

Stepping in, he hilted himself in her muzzle and ground his crotch against her nose. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Spoiled would have gulped, had her neck not been bulging from the girthy intrusion. As with all things amorous, Kion wasn’t afraid to test her limits. She’d surrendered her anal virginity to him, letting him fuck her ass until her pucker had become an engorged, second hole for his stallionhood, and he had a magical way of pushing her just to the breaking point. Seeing no reason to do otherwise, she brought a hand to her nethers, pulled her panties aside, and began fingering herself.

Streaks of lipstick smeared along his length, her mascara started to run, and her lungs heaved fruitlessly to draw air while he ruthlessly fucked her face. He’d freely admitted that he routinely treated mares like this, paying perilously little regard to their comfort or well-being, although she wasn’t bothered by it - instead, she found his handling of her enthralling. Practically fisting herself, she was driven forward and back by his ruthless thrusts.

Filthy had never been so merciless with her - even if he had, it wouldn’t have been the same. Kion was a cut above every stallion she’d ever seen, much less slept with, and he’d awoken a part of her she didn’t know she had. Her life of being pampered, living in the lap of luxury with a husband who treated sex with her like a chore, had left her blind to what true pleasure was - fortunately, her eyes had been opened.

He persisted until her eyes wandered to the back of her head. Backing away and dragging his slickened shaft free, he swung his hips to one side then wetly slapped his stallionhood across her face. The blow was like being hit with a meaty baseball bat, setting her off balance and forcing her to catch herself on the bed, but she didn’t fall. He’d rutted her muzzle until she’d passed out in the past, mostly during their initial flings, and she couldn’t afford to suffer the ignominy of waking up dazed and confused.

“You sure you’re not fucking around behind my back?” he rumbled.

Taking his dick in both hands, she stroked him off while catching her breath. “N…no, I - Cough - I’m a one stallion kind of mare.”

“Says the old slut who’s cheating on her husband,” he countered. “I swear, you married types are the most desperate.”

As she glided a hand down his length and to his coin purse, her marehood seized. “Sure doesn’t seem to stop you from plowing me.”

“Shit no it doesn’t,” he guffawed. “The fact that your hubby probably can’t touch the sides of that blown-out cunt of yours makes this even better - speaking of which, how’s about you let me see that sloppy hole of yours.”

Pushing herself up, she seated herself on the bed, rolled to her back, and splayed her legs. He was right about one thing - he’d certainly done a number on her marehood. Her marehood had been pretty taut, tightening up from prolonged neglect, although Kion had fixed that. As she spread herself open and unabashedly gave him a look at her cavernous depths, his stallionhood jerked upward.

He was atop her in an instant, his hands pressed to either side of her head, while his face hovered mere inches above her snout. “Want this?”

The heat and weight of his stallionhood bearing against her, reaching from her groin all the way up to her sternum, was electrifying. She was fully aware that she’d be walking funny for the next day or so, and that she’d be leaking his virile spunk for the better part of a week, but she wanted - needed him to ruin her. For all his degrading talk and the ways he demeaned her, she knew the truth of the matter.

“Only as much as you do, stud,” she purred while lifting her hips and rubbing her snatch against the underside of his girthy tool.

He chuckled and laughed as he peered into her eyes. “Nasty bitch.”

“And you love it,” she hissed.

Craning her neck, she glanced at the door and gently bit his lower lip. Their room was unlocked, allowing anypony to walk in on them, but that was by design. Gone were the days of her giving the shit about what anypony thought about her or what she did, and she’d never been happier. Snapping her legs around his waist, she deeply kissed him.

Though she pined to feel him filling her, laying siege to her fruitful womb while she shrieked to the heavens, that wouldn’t be the best idea. She knew herself well enough to realize that there was a threshold of what she could stand, a point at which her inhibitions would crumble and she’d become a ravenous, carnal monster, so she had to pace herself - sadly, there was only so much control she could exert over the situation. Taking a fistful of her mane, Kion slammed her head to the bed and straightened up.

“Gonna royally fuck your shit up for that,” he snarled.

“W…wait,” she gasped, trembling as he shied back and pressed his cock-head to her drooling, gaped entrance, “let me ride you.”

He paused and quirked a brow. “Shit, that’s fine with me.”

Releasing her, he lumbered around to the far side of the mattress and eased himself down. She’d learned rather quickly that telling him to do anything was a recipe for disaster, leading him to do the opposite of what she said more often than not, though she wasn’t without a means of manipulating him. Given that it wasn’t a matter of if she ended up sheathing the titanic bitch-breaker he called a stallionhood, screwing herself on him would give her a bit of control and possibly buy her the time she needed.

“Well?” he groused, having laid back and placed his hands behind his head. “The fuck are you waiting for?”

She rolled to her stomach, got onto her hands and knees, and crawled to him. Stopping the inevitable was impossible, but delaying it - well, she could certainly pull that off. Moving up his body, she swung a leg over his hip and straddled him. It would have been easy to draw things out with virtually anypony, having a number of tactics to tease a stallion, yet Kion would not be denied. Grabbing her by the hips, he repositioned her ground his cock between her ass cheeks.

“So impatient,” she playfully clucked.

He snorted. “Can you blame me? After I’ve fucked a foal into you, you’ll probably -”

Click

Whipping around and looking over her shoulder, she grinned. There’d been a chance that somepony had simply tried the wrong door, or that housekeeping was coming by to do their rounds, although silhouette that entered and abruptly halted left no room for doubt. Lifting a hand and wagging her fingers, she rose onto her knees and turned around.

“Spoiled?” Filthy asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Spoiled beamed as she lifted her waist, kissed her marehood the tip of Kion’s length, and languidly impaled herself. The day wasn’t remarkable because she was stepping outside of her marriage for some relief, nor was it particularly important due to her husband catching her in the act - no, it was special because of the date. With glacial speed, she lowered herself until she’d hilted her striped lover’s gargantuan endowment.

Inching closer to the bed, and leaving the door open behind him, Filthy dropped a bouquet of flowers he’d been holding. “W…what is -”

“Happy anniversary, honey,” she giggled while gyrating atop Kion. “You’ll have to forgive me, you -”

“That’s your husband?!” Kion guffawed. Sitting up and pressing his chest to Spoiled’s back, he stared over at the gobsmacked stallion. “God damn - now I can see why you’re such a cock-hound.”

“It’s - Aaaaaahn!” she mewled, cut off as Kion bucked his hips.

The sensation of being driven upward by Kion’s thrust, coupled with his phenomenal size, was as extraordinary as ever, but it was the look on her husband’s face that filled her with sadistic glee. There was nothing redeeming about Filthy besides the amount of capital at his disposal, and it was high time that he was knocked down a peg or three. Bracing herself and leaning back, she beamed.

Filthy’s legs buckled and he fell to his knees, but he was unable or unwilling to look away from her. “W…why?”

“Because you’re fucking pathetic,” she spat, her vitriol giving her the strength to wade through the immeasurable bliss Kion afforded. “You were - are a shitty husband, you cared more about your business than you did for me or Diamond, and this is what you get. Kion?”

Extending an arm to one side, Kion grabbed a handful of papers from the nightstand and handed them to her. “Damn shame about that prenup, cuck.”

Taking the forms from Kion’s hand, Spoiled threw them at Filthy. “We’re through. I’ll come by to…”

She went quiet when she lowered her gaze. His heart had just been ripped from his chest, his marriage was in tatters, and she’d just found out that his wife was leaving him for a stallion who was superior to him in every conceivable way, yet his reaction was a far departure from what she’d expected - yes, he appeared emotionally eviscerated, although the tent in his slacks told a different story entirely. For whatever reason, be it from some fetish or a response motivated by the overwhelming circumstances, Filthy had gotten hard.

Squinting down at him, she sneered. “That’s just sad…”

“What’s - oh shit! Dude, you got a boner?!” Kion laughed. “Shit, you really are a fucking cuck.”

“I suppose he is,” Spoiled scoffed. “Darling, given my ex-husband seems a bit aroused, how about we give him a show?”

Kion didn’t need to be asked twice. Planting his feet and wrapping one arm around her chest, he set to plowing her. His technique lacked any grace or finesse, being almost savage, and it exemplified the differences between him and the crestfallen stallion left kneeling by the foot of the bed.

Moving in tune with Kion, getting his rhythm down, she threw her weight down to meet his thrusts while milking his shaft in her silken confines. “Are you going to jack off, hubby? Go on, take out that little pecker of yours while a real stallion shows you how it’s done.”

Filthy’s hand strayed to his crotch, almost instinctively, but he stopped himself. It was abundantly clear that some part of him was turned on by the obscene display, and that alone heightened her enjoyment. If she hadn’t found him a pitiful excuse of a lover beforehand, the revelation that he was a cuck, even on a subconscious level, was further evidence that he didn’t deserve her.

The sight of Filthy kneeling there, crestfallen and broken, seared itself into her mind. He was done, the relationship he supposedly cherished was dead, and she wouldn’t be shocked if he was shattered on a fundamental level. While he had the bits to draw in a nubile young mare, he was going to live the rest of his miserable life knowing that he was inferior.

Reclining, she howled and came. It was all too common for Kion to drive her to a climax within minutes, yet this was different. Something about destroying her marriage in the most depraved way imaginable, quite literally fucking a peasant foreigner in front of her betrothed, was so pleasurable that she couldn’t stand it. Yielding to her lecherous wants, she turned her head made out with her lover - her real lover.

As delightful as it would have been to berate Filthy, she had more pressing matters to concern herself with - namely the stud who was balls-deep in her. Moaning and pistoning herself on Kion, she reached down and rubbed her clit. Husband or not, self-described stallion or otherwise, the wretched bastard to whom she had been married was free to watch her get fucked raw.

Kion was absolutely magnificent. While his cock-head hammered against her cervix, doing its damnedest to reach depths Filthy never could, he twisted and hauled on her nipples. He’d remade her from the inside out, ensuring nopony other than an equally well-hung stallion could scratch her amorous itch, but that wasn’t all he’d done.

Withdrawing and licking her lips, she peered down at Filthy while rubbing the noticeable bulge in her abdomen. “I’m sure Diamond will enjoy having a little half-sister or brother,” she coldly remarked. Filthy stared at her face, while Kion stopped and did likewise. Looking between them, she tittered. “Congratulations, daddy,” she cooed before kissing her stud’s cheek. “And you,” she continued, leering back at her newly minted ex, “don’t act so shocked - besides, it’s not like Diamond was yours anyways.”

That little reveal, that their daughter was the bastard product of a unicorn in Manehattan, was especially delicious. She’d been sitting on the knowledge for decades, keeping it a well-guarded secret, but there was no sense in hiding it any longer. Reveling in Filthy’s awestruck, speechless response, she recoiled when he shivered and suppressed a whimper.

For a split second, she’d assumed he was on the verge of weeping, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. A wet stain seeped through the front of his slacks, directly above his twitching dick, while he gnawed his lower lip in a miserable attempt to silence himself. As insane as it was, so absurd that she struggled to accept it, he’d just cum in his pants.

“The fucking cuck just nutted!” Kion cackled.

Bearing witness to Filthy’s degeneracy was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Spoiled. Cruelty, lust, and exuberance numbed her mind, elevating her rapture and consuming her very soul. Fuck it - fuck all of it. On the off chance that the pregnancy test she’d taken was wrong, she was going to make damn sure Kion had put a foal in her right then and there.

Her body moved of its own, motivated by her hedonistic desires, and she rode Kion like a crazed animal. He was quick to pick up the slack, railing her with every ounce of his considerable strength while delivering her to one climax after another - still, she never slowed. She lost all control of herself, mewling and wailing in unremitting bliss as she fantasized about growing fat with his child.

She endured more orgasms than she could possibly count, although the final brought her back to her senses. Kion roared as his stallionhood pulsed and flared, sending gouts of his virile essence right where it belonged - her foal factory. Her marehood seized so violently, desperate to drink in every drop of his seed, that his length sprang free and erupted into the open air.

Heaving air into her chest, Spoiled peeked down at Filthy. His face was glazed in Kion’s jizz, his shirt was ruined, and he sat there slack-jawed and stunned. It was poetic, the amount of spunk covering him dwarfing the sad little puddle in his briefs, and she couldn’t help but laugh. She coolly but shakily pulled her bra over her chest, curled her lip in disdain, and leveled her attention at the broken thing that had been her husband.

“Get out,” she breathed, flipping him the bird.

Following suit, Kion gave the one-finger salute to Filthy. “See you later, cuck. Have fun cranking off to the thought of me fucking your ex.”

Spoiled blinked as Kion turned her head and kissed her. If there was a more fitting way to extinguish her marriage, she couldn’t picture it - furthermore, she was anything but finished for the night. Filthy could stay if he wanted - hell, he could eat the cum out of her if he did, but that was an insignificant concern. With one chapter of her life concluded, and another just beginning, she was going to relish every second with her big-dicked, young, adonic stud…

Ms. Harshwhinny

Grimacing down at the mountain of paperwork at her desk, Harshwhinny closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her snout, and gave a long, pained sigh. Though the Equestrian Games were an annual event, only taking place once a year, the amount of work that led up to and followed the event were nothing short of herculean; there were venues to book, politicians to meet, and the amount of mail she had to go through on a day to day basis was staggering. As she lifted and opened one of the innumerable letters she’d received the afternoon prior, her eyes strayed to the window of her office.

The day outside was lovely, neither being too hot nor too cool while the sun shone above in the cloudless sky, although it wasn’t the weather that caught her attention - that honor or dishonor, depending on one’s perspective, went to her reflection. Her mane was neatly combed, the makeup she wore was immaculate, and her suit was crisp and without a single wrinkle. For all intents and purposes, she looked quite good for a mare her age, both professional and well-kept, yet the sight of herself was a reminder that her life was slowly passing her by.

She loved her job, she truly did - if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have clawed her way up the ranks to become the head of the Equestrian Games. It had taken years to reach her lofty position, and many long, grueling days of hard work, but she’d done it - nevertheless, she refused to let her title get to her head. While other high-ranking officials would be content to delegate work to their underlings, while relaxing and doing as little as possible, her work ethic and need for perfection demanded she take an active role.

Leaning back in her seat, she rubbed her temples and peered up at the ceiling. Her torment was of her own doing, although she had made a number of concessions over the last year or so. The first change she’d enacted was that each form only needed to be double-checked, as opposed to triple-checked - secondly, per the request of her doctor, she only allowed herself to work ten hours a day instead of twelve or more. Though the compromises did benefit her to a small extent, both by saving her time and letting her get more sleep at night, the best and worst thing she’d done for herself was to get an assistant.

Peering down to the shadowy confines beneath her desk, her gaze settled on an afro-like, monochromatic mane. She couldn’t see much of him, aside from his fluffy hair, his hands against her knees, and his ebony lips pressed against her bare loins, but the fact that he could and would spend hours at a time between her legs said something of his character. He slowed, possibly sensing her staring at him, and peeked up with a pair of golden eyes.

“Did I tell you to stop?” she harrumphed.

He shook his head and immediately went back to work by silently lapping at her marehood. She’d been a bit surprised to see a Zebrican applying to be her assistant, and outright shocked when she’d interviewed him and discovered he didn’t have the slightest shred of paperwork. He was under-qualified, relatively frail, and frankly a bit too soft-spoken for her tastes, although he’d had a few things that set him apart from his competition.

Dwelling on her first meeting with him, Harshwhinny rolled her chair back and waved a hand. “Get up.”

“Y…yes, ma’am,” he sputtered, scrambling out and getting to his feet. “D…did you want something to drink, o…or a snack perhaps? Maybe I can -”

“Mwoga, please,” she grumbled. “What did I tell you about that…”

He thought for a moment before his eyes lit up. “If you want something, y…you’ll ask for it.”

Crossing one leg over the other, she grinned. “Very good, although you still have much to learn. When you’re under there,” she murmured while nodding back to her desk, “you’re supposed to focus on…?”

“B…being quiet,” he stammered.

“And…?” she inquired. Leaning forward and resting her bosoms on her thighs, she cocked her head. “You’re supposed to…?”

He licked his lips and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he conspicuously glanced at the cleavage appearing from the top of her blouse. “I - uh - I’m - um…”

Shifting a hand and undoing a button on her top, giving him an even better view of her chest, she willed herself to remain stoic. “Go on…”

His name meant something like sheepish or timid in his native tongue, and the name was more than fitting for him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stutter when speaking with her, his eye for detail was sorely lacking, and he didn’t know the first thing about collating reports - be that as it may, he had his uses. Flicking her eyes down to the prodigious bulge within the right leg of his slacks, she smirked.

Aside from being exceptionally obedient, he was rather cute, held her in high regard, and had an utterly monstrous cock - if those weren’t reasons enough for her to hire him, she’d discovered he was absolutely smitten with older, bustier, and somewhat shapely mares like herself. With her mouth watering and an ache growing in her marehood, she coolly stood and stepped over to him.

“My clit,” she sternly tutted. Rocking her hips forward, she pulled up her skirt to reveal the plump, hairless mount of her engorged marehood. “You’re supposed to focus on my clit ~ remember?”

His stallionhood strained against the fabric of his pants, threatening to burst free at any moment, as the sound of seam popping crept to her ears. He may not have been that useful in regard to clerical work, but that wasn’t why he still had his job. Only partially feigning disappointment, she shook her head.

Toying with him was one of the few pleasures she had, and it was honestly the last thing she’d ever expected to find herself doing while at work. Was it wrong to shirk her responsibilities on the clock? Yes, without question. Did the occasional distraction and bit of fun keep her from fulfilling her duties? No - in actuality, she’d become more productive since she had a way to blow off steam.

Motioning down at his groin, she snorted. “I can see somepony is distracted.”

“S…sorry,” he bashfully muttered while trying and failing to cover his arousal with both hands.

“I didn’t ask you to apologize,” she clucked. “Undress for me, and do it slowly. I’ll not have you slipping out my window with your trousers in tatters again.”

Mwoga hesitated and glanced at the door before he began unbuttoning his shirt. He’d come a long way from his first day at work, and she took full credit for that. While he gradually exposed his unimpressive chest and featureless, flat abdomen, she nonchalantly reached over, plucked a cigarette from her desktop and put it between her lips.

Having removed and folded his shirt, he twisted and placed the garment on the windowsill. “I’ve been going to the gym more.”

“Why?” she quipped. Sparking her lighter, she ignited her cigarette and took a long drag. “Are you trying to impress somepony?”

His cheeks darkened as he peered down at the floor. “M…maybe…”

Her heart fluttered while the ache in her nethers got more intense. If he was trying to hide the fact that he adored her, he did a piss-poor job at it. The way he cheerfully greeted her each and every day, how he’d awkwardly questioned his coworkers about what her favorite sweets were, and his unconditional dedication to her, acting like some love-struck puppy, would have been annoying, had she not found them so thoroughly endearing.

“Ahem,” she coughed as she waved her smoke at his crotch. “Continue.”

“R…right…” he mumbled.

As he loosened his belt and opened his fly, giving her a glimpse of the dark, thick root of his shaft, her pulse started to race. No matter how many times he’d revealed himself to her, seeing him strip made her feel like a filly on Hearth’s Warming morning - so much so that she’d considered ordering a high-end camera and paying for him to take burlesque lessons. Squatting and leaning forward, he bashfully hauled his pants and underwear around his ankles before standing back up.

It wasn’t all that odd for a mare her age to have seen a fair share of stallionhoods, be they in person or in media of various sorts, yet Mwoga’s package was a thing of beauty. His length, covered in jet-black flesh and streaked with large, angry veins, was so huge that it toed the line of grotesque, while his pendulous balls hung nearly half-way to his knees. She genuinely didn’t understand how he could function with an erection, since the amount of blood needed to keep him hard should have been enough to make him faint, although it did explain why he could be so forgetful at times.

“Such a beastly thing,” she whispered. Closing the gap between them, she boldly gripped and stroked the root of his shaft. “Have you been following my instructions like a good colt?”

His cock leapt upward as she spoke. “Y…yes, of c…course. Two hours of e…edging every night before bed.”

“And in the mornings?” she continued.

He nodded and swallowed hard. “And in the morning when I’m in the s…shower.”

The smile that graced her lips was sincere. He followed her words to the letter, both in and outside of a professional environment, and she was quite proud of him - not proud enough to tell him that, but she wasn’t above showing her approval in a more meaningful way. Gliding her fingers up the underside of his considerable length, she mopped up a bit of his pre-cum and brought it to her lips.

“Ma’am?” he croaked, seeing her lick the tip of her digit clean.

Eyeing him, she took another hit from her cigarette then exhaled. “Yes?”

He fidgeted in place while wringing his hands before his scrawny chest. “Did - a…actually, never mind…”

“Did what?” she groaned. “Have I not told you to speak up and speak clearly?”

Clamping his eyes shut, he took a deep breath, held it for a second, then slowly exhaled and looked her in the eyes. “Have you thought about what I asked?”

She opened her mouth to demand clarification, but remained silent when a memory came rushing back to her. Not to days prior, he’d invited her out for a meal the upcoming Saturday; at the time, she’d assumed it was hollow pillow talk, mostly because he’d just railed her in the restroom after the rest of the staff had left for the night, although his reminder made two points evident - he wasn’t joking and he’d worked up the nerve to invite her on a date. Though an act of sheer determination, she willed herself not to swoon.

It was one thing to serve as her convenient colt-toy, but it was quite another to attempt to court her. A bead of nectar rolled down her inner thigh, her thoughts swam with passionate possibilities, and her nipples and clit were so hard that it hurt. While she wasn’t opposed to letting him treat her to a night on the town, such considerations could be made after they were both thinking with clear, lust-free heads.

Shifting one heel, she snuffed her cigarette, sat on her desk, and eased herself onto her back. “We can discuss it later - right now, I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

Her comment, though innocuous on a superficial level, triggered an immediate pavlovian response. Hastily stepping around her desk, he cleared the surface of paperwork, grinned from ear to ear, and presented his meaty monolith. He was a quick study, easily trained and all too eager to please her, and she’d be lying if said she didn’t savor him.

Mwoga was a feast for the senses. His lean aesthetic paired wondrously with his meek demeanor and clashed with his barbarous equipment, his musk was divine, and the taste of him was like a fine wine. It had come as a shock that she’d become so captivated by him - then again, she’d never met somepony quite like him before.

Once she’d opened her blouse, she wriggled her hands under her back and unclasped her bra. There was no harm in giving him a bit of extra inspiration - plus letting her tits breathe was a welcome departure after hours of keeping them constrained. Freed from their lacy confines, her breasts flopped heavily to either side of her chest while her lips parted and tongue lolled out of her snout.

Mwoga wasted no time in slipping his cock into her muzzle. Though his hips twitched and legs shook slightly, betraying his desire to rut her face, his self-restraint was admirable. The good news was that he’d taken her instructions to heart, leaving her to do all the work - the bad news was that, sadly, he was prone to forgetting his place.

Nursing on the tip of his length, she jacked him off with one hand while fingering herself with the other. She’d heard that zebra stallions weren’t like their pony counterparts, although she was stunned to realize just how different they were. The striped studs were simply superior, appealing to her marish wants in every possible regard, and she was fortunate enough to have a particularly young, loyal, and sublimely alluring one all to herself.

As she lifted a single finger, he started lazily thrusting. Since she’d had the forethought to use hand signals, indicating when and how hard he should start bucking, there was no need for her to expressly tell him what to do. Shuffling closer to him, she took in a lungful of air before he plunged down her throat.

Sweet Celestia - having him around so so, so much better than a paltry sex-toy. He was as cute as a button, the rapture he delivered was indescribable, and she hadn’t felt so alive in ages - on top of all that, he seemed intent on making her his marefriend! Tweaking and pinching one nipple, adding yet another layer of pleasure to the experience, she stifled a gag.

Having an oral fixation was a double-edged sword; on one hand, she’d essentially beaten her gag reflex into submission and had never struggled to throat even the biggest stallion - on the other, Mwoga had shown her the error of hubris. All her practice and dedication, routinely choking on the largest dildos she could get her hands on, meant nothing in the face of her underweight, inexperienced stud. He’d been fast to tell her that she was his first, which partially explained his zeal, yet handling all of him was still a trial.

She knit her brow when she looked down his length. It was like peering down a piece of artillery, so great was his endowment, but the frustration of being able to easily fellate him was motivation in and of itself. Slapping his hip and lifting two fingers, she kicked him into second gear.

Stepping in and pressing his thighs to the table, he drove his shaft further down her gullet. His medial ring forced its way past her lips, straining her jaw and prompting her esophagus to spasm in protest. The intensity of having her airway completely clogged, his increasingly violent thrusts, and his blissful expression were marvelous, far and away anything she’d gotten from a mere pony, and they inched her closer to a climax.

Though she unquestionably got what she wanted, it came with a cost. Mwoga’s eyes glazed over, saliva crept past his lips, and his rhythmic bucking became erratic and wild. She’d lived through this multiple times with him. It was regrettable that he was as susceptible as he was to falling into a rut-lust, but she’d let him have his fun - if only briefly.

As she put all of her efforts into pleasuring herself, keenly aware that she only had so much time to work with, her hands flew into a frenzy. Rubbing her clit and pounding three digits into her needy cunt, she fiercely gripped one sensitive teat. Neither of them were going to cum just yet, not if she had anything to say about it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t bring them both right to the precipice.

Walking the tightrope of delighting both him and herself, while ensuring neither peaked, was no easy task. There was an art to sex, of recognizing the signs of when somepony was close while having the willpower to stop one’s self, and she, though far from a master, was quite skilled at it. Waiting until her vision tunneled and lungs burned, as well as sensing Mwoga’s throbbing getting stronger and stronger, she lightly tapped on his swaying coin purse.

He stopped almost instantaneously, the spell he’d been under broken, and leapt back. “S…sorry! I didn’t mean to -”

“Yes, yes, you - Cough - you didn’t mean to sail into an enwrapt haze,” she groused. “I’ve dismissed lovers and employees for less ~ did you know that?”

While he wasn’t in any real trouble, scaring him a bit was one of the many ways she kept him under her thumb - where he belonged. Sprawling back, she sank her fingers into her breasts and squeezed them together. They could have stopped there, with her going back to work as he ate her out, although that was hardly the funnest or most prudent avenue to take.

Seeing him sneak a glance at her pussy, she smirked. “Mwoga, would you like to make amends?”

Her legs straightened and parted while she spoke, giving him a very clear, if not crass, picture of what she was implying. A broad, foolish smile split his fret-wrought features, pre-cum surged from his mammoth length, and he nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled from the side of the table. The moment he was in position, coming between her thighs and guiding his stallionhood to her slavering cunt, she bent her knees and touched her heels to his back.

“Don’t disappoint me,” she menacingly breathed.

She snapped her legs around him, wrenching him forward and impaling herself in the process, before he could give any meaningful response. As he fell forward, his head becoming entombed in her bounteous cleavage, his body tensed and from head to toe. His reaction was adorable, his brain doing its best to process what was happening, although it didn’t last for long. In all but the blink of an, he went wild.

Rolling her head back, Harshwhinny gave a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction. In hindsight, had she the faintest idea that zebras were such peerless lovers, she may have moved to Zebrica and gone native in her youth, although she preferred not to dwell on the what-ifs. She’s snapped up a striped, compliant, big-dicked apprentice that she could mold and teach to her liking, and she’d be damned if she was going to let him slip through her fingers.

“U…up,” she rasped.

Lifting his head and turning it to one side, Mwoga latched onto her nipple and began to nurse. The warmth of his lips and tongue were contrasted by his teeth against the delicate flesh of her teat, and they magnified her rapture several times over. What he lacked in technique he more than made up for in animosity and the unbelievable size of his cock, but that was all the more reason to correct him.

Taking a handful of his curly mane, he pulled him up and glared into his eyes. “Deeper, slower thrusts at an upward angle.”

“Mmmph mph,” he mumbled unintelligibly.

He obeyed her without delay, altering his tactics to fulfill her exacting specifications, and came damn close to making her climax on the spot. The combination of his medial ring demolishing her g-spot, his scent, and his raw, unfettered desire to be with her, to take her as a mate and lover, proved more than she could stand. Orgasmic nectar spurted from her stuffed confines and around his pistoning length as she weathered a staggering climax.

With the primordial portions of her mind vying for dominance, and gaining power with every thrust Mwoga delivered, she yielded to her id. She was older, stronger, and most definitely wiser than him, but the facts were the facts; she was a mare, he was a virile stallion - it was nature at its finest. Flexing and relaxing her legs, giving his plunges a bit of added power, she leaned in and buried her snout in his mane.

Though his endurance was nothing extraordinary, at best a touch better than most stallions his age, his lack of stamina was something she savored. Successfully seducing a stud so much younger than herself, and having him repeatedly creampie her and attempt to knock her up, was the definition of ecstasy - furthermore, he was capable of going multiple rounds in startlingly fast succession. He wasn’t perfect, but she found his flaws charming.

Her second and third orgasms were as ruinous as the first, blindsiding her and making it increasingly hard to think clearly, while he sucked on her tits and pulled out all the stops. It was unfortunate that it had taken her so long to hire such a capable aid, but she was grateful that he’d eventually shown up and nervously presented his application. Teetering on the cusp of a fourth climax, she locked her legs around his lower back, clenched around him, and clamped a hand over her muzzle.

She was on the brink of a big one, an orgasm that may inadvertently cause her to loudly and uncouthly blow her cover, and it was entirely possible that she may lose her job because of it. Her common sense implored her to stop, to sate herself after everypony else had left the office, yet she’d passed the point of no return. One way or another, regardless of the repercussions, she wasn’t going to let Mwoga go until he’d -

Knock Knock Knock

“Ms. Harshwhinny?” a voice called from just outside her office. “Ms. Harshwhinny, I have -”

“A moment!” Harshwhinny shouted back. Cradling Mwoga’s head in her hands, she brought her snout to his ear. “Cum…”

Locking lips with him to keep him quiet, she shuddered as his seed flowed into her. It was a shame that they’d had to wrap things up so quickly, though that was a constant risk while engaging in such unprofessional activities at work. Drawing out the moment for as long as she could, she released him, waved him back, and pointed down at the table.

One of the first tricks she’d shown him was how he could make himself scarce in a speedy, inconspicuous manner. While he crawled under her desk, she smoothly got to her feet, donned her bra, and buttoned her blouse. Why somepony was bothering her was anypony’s guess, but she was prepared for such inconvenient instances for moments like this.

Seating herself and sliding her legs under her desk, she straightened her paperwork and turned her eyes to the door. “Come in.”

“Ma’am,” Steno, one of the scouts for the Equestria games, began while entering, “we’ve just…” She stopped and turned her nose upward, sniffing the air. “What’s that?”

“Mwoga,” Harshwhinny grunted. “I’d just told him to go and shower. The poor colt worked up quite a sweat earlier as he was running errands for me.”

Steno shrugged, crossed to the desk, and handed her a manila folder, “Anyways, we just…”

Harshwhinny absently nodded her head and pretended to listen to the report, though her mind was elsewhere - specifically the thick tongue and supple lips lapping at her battered, quivering marehood. Buck - she wanted to wrap up for the day, drag Mwoga home with her, and ride his fat, gorgeous dick until she was stumbling around like a newborn fawn. Shifting slightly and peeking under the desk, she watched his hand affectionately caress her thigh.

“So does that sound alright to you?” Steno chirped.

“Yes, that’s acceptable,” Harshwhinny grunted.

Surreptitiously reaching down and rubbing the back of Mwoga’s hand, she smiled. He was a good colt, a decent assistant, and he’d shown great potential, but maybe he could be more than that. As he peeked up at her, his eyes twinkling in the gloom, her thoughts drifted to where he would take her on their inevitable date…

Hoity Toity

“Shoulders back,” Hoity instructed while peering over the rim of his glasses. “Chest out - yes, just like that,” he continued, stepping forward and adjusting the model’s jock strap. Backing away and holding a hand to his chin, he thoughtfully nodded while inspecting his work. “Yes, that will do nicely. Shutter, be a dear and get some photos for me.”

The mare, an adorable little thing who rarely spoke, nodded and began taking photos of the picturesque zebra standing atop the dais. His newest acquisition, a towering, muscular stud, was the definition of a twunk - a departure from his typical fare. Enjoying the scene and imagining how the eventual advertisement would turn out, he cocked an ear as a bell in his storefront chimed.

“Be right there,” Hoity sang, turning and trotting out of the studio situated in the back of his shop.

Traipsing up to a curtain separating the public and employees only sections of the building, he stopped and turned to face a tactically situated mirror. Everypony who worked for him or with him was held to a lofty standard, expected to look prim and proper when interacting with any prospective clients, and he was no exception. Brushing a stray hair from his vest, he twisted from side to side while giving himself a cursory once-over.

His attire, consisting of a vest, thong, and his signature shades, were as pristine as his styled mane and self-assured smile. Most ponies often mistook him for being half his age, although his good looks, toned body, and supple ass weren’t some miracle from the heavens. A healthy diet and stringent exercise kept him in tip-top shape, and he wasn’t ashamed to show off the fruits of his labor.

“I would have told you I was coming,” he laughed as he proceeded through the curtain, “but I’d hate for you to misconstrue pleasure for - Sunburst?!”

Sunburst flinched, his eyes widening, and brought a hand to his chest. “H…hey there, Hoity, long t…time no see.”

While it was true that Hoity hadn’t seen Sunburst in ages, well over a year, he was more shocked by the stallion’s aesthetic than presence. Once a well-respected scholar at the School of Friendship, and the former Crystaller for the Crystal Empire, the unicorn that stood before him had been stripped of any shred of masculinity. All but literally picking his jaw up from the floor, he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

“You’re looking…” he paused, searching for the right word.

With a shuddering sigh, Sunburst exhaled and virtually wilted. “Ridiculous, I know. Listen, you don’t -”

“Fabulous!” Hoity exclaimed. “Sunburst, you look simply fabulous! I’d considered going for the fully marish look, but - well, I just don’t have the build for it! If you’re willing to indulge me, give me a little twirl and show yourself off a bit!”

Sunburst’s expression shifted from red-faced embarrassment to confusion and finally bashful glee. “R…right here?”

Placing his hands on his waist, Hoity cocked his hips. “Of course right here, unless you’d ask one of my displays to step aside and share the limelight!”

While Sunburst timidly and rather awkwardly revolved in place, Hoity’s grin grew broader and broader. He’d meant what he’d said, speaking from the heart, and he was beyond impressed with how his acquaintance had shaped up. Had he not known better, recognizing the fiery mane, cyan eyes, and cutie mark, he would have sworn he was looking at a mare.

“So did you go all the way?” he asked, unable to contain his burning curiosity.

Sunburst halted, his cheeks darkened, and he lowered his gaze once again. “If y…you mean my - um…” he trailed off as he nodded to his groin. “N…no, I still have it.”

“Honey, that’s hardly anything to be ashamed of!” Hoity merrily quipped. “Some of the best ponies I know kept themselves intact, but I digress.” Shooting forward, he snared the femcolt in a hug. “What brings you to Manehattan?”

He was curious about why Sunburst had come to his shop, and something told him that the visit wasn’t purely motivated by camaraderie. Part of being a successful business pony was having a keen eye and the power of deduction - as such, it wasn’t difficult to come to a number of conclusions. Seeing as how his potential patron presented himself, both with his choice of clothing and the modifications to his aesthetic, and the obvious nature of his business, he made a calculated guess.

“Your stud wants you to expand your wardrobe,” he asserted.

Shaking his head, Sunburst kept his eyes on the floor. “I…I don’t have a stud, that’s - oh jeez - I really didn’t think this through.”

Hoity lifted a hand into the air, snapped his fingers, and shied back. Some ponies were easier to deal with than others, specifically those who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to speak their mind, but then there were those like Sunburst. He wouldn’t be even remotely surprised if this was the first time the svelte little unicorn had ever stepped foot into a venue like his - even if that wasn’t the case, it was his job to make sure his guest felt comfortable. Glancing over his shoulder, having heard the sound of approaching footfalls from behind him, he gave a small, approving snort.

“Sunburst,” he began while gently placing a hand on the marish stallion’s shoulder. “You came this far, so allow me to take it from here. By chance, are you here to enlist in my program?”

The innocent question caused Sunburst’s ears to perk up, tail to flick, and thighs to grind together. Bingo - if that wasn’t a dead giveaway as to what he wanted, nothing was. As he expectantly extended his arm to one side, a warm mug was placed delicately on his palm. His patrons were worth every ounce of his care, and he wasn’t about to shirk his responsibilities with somepony he knew.

“Tea?” he hummed, presenting the steaming cup. “Thank you, Osi and Otun.”

It may have been the tiniest bit underhanded, although he’d done far more than call for some much-needed refreshment. Osi and Otun, his lovers and the crown jewels of his enterprise, were art made manifest. Neither too lean nor too muscular, being mirror images of one another, the Zebrican twins stood at his sides while bowing jointly.

Seeing Sunburst’s awestruck reaction to the duo, he chuckled. “Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Y…yeah,” Sunburst breathed. With his eyes meandering the pair of adonic stallions, he gulped. “Are…are they yours or -”

“We are his,” Osi intoned.

“And he is ours,” Otun added, concluding his brother’s statement.

The way the twins spoke in tandem, oftentimes completing or starting one another’s sentences, was but one of the ways Osi and Otun thrilled Hoity. Were it not for them, his newest and most rewarding business venture, effectively pairing Zebrican studs with welcoming ponies in Equestria, would never have come to fruition. He owed them much, they meant the world to him, and he was always eager to show them off to anypony and everypony he could.

Drawing his hands down the twins’ sides and to their hips, he pulled the pair close. “I couldn’t ask for more from either of them, even if they can be quite the handful.”

“Hnnf,” Otun grunted.

Hoity glanced down and to one side, noticed a bead of pre-cum glistening on Otun’s cage, and sensed his stallionhood begin to harden. The siblings typically paraded themselves around wearing next to nothing, excluding prim collars, which made it easy to tell which one of them was currently caged. The inclusion of chastity had initially been a joke, a playful little punishment to the one who’d been outperformed by his sibling, yet they’d become so enamored with the amorous contests that it was now a constant.

Turning his muzzle up to Otun, Hoity pursed his lips. “Don’t be that way, love, I’m sure that you’ll have your brother under lock and key before the morrow.”

Otun pulled him away from Osi and kissed him deeply. The sex with them - by The Elements, it made every other lecherous experience he’d ever had seem like a bad joke. Clasping the chaste stud’s behind, he closed his eyes and moaned into the zebra’s muzzle. The small display of affection, despite being unarguably bawdy, served a dual purpose - it tended to help sway clients to do business with him, and it just felt good to show off.

Feeling something pressed against his all but bare backside, he peeked back and saw Osi behind him. While he couldn’t see what was running up and down the cleft of his ass, it took no leap of logic to deduce what was - or rather would happen shortly. Glancing over at Sunburst, he quickly wriggled free and brought the exchange to an abrupt end.

“Pardon,” he sighed, “I’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable, Sunburst. Now then, might I -”

“Y…you weren’t making me uncomfortable - I…I mean - um - not really,” Sunburst stammered.

Peaking a brow, Hoity nonchalantly stroked Osi’s rapidly hardening length while rubbing his thumb over the burnished, golden cap imprisoning Otun’s stallionhood. “Not really…?”

Sunburst anxiously drew his tongue over his lips as he inched back and pulled up the front of his skirt. Though he’d chosen not to speak, his response spoke volumes. Locked to his groin, throttling his adorable little goods, an inverted and exquisitely small cage reduced his stallionhood to an innie.

It took a lot to throw Hoity off guard, but the sight of such an extreme restraint on the femcolt’s package momentarily left him at a loss for words. “I completely understand. Might I - Mmmmn,” he groaned as a finger effortlessly slipped past his thong and into his pucker. “You’ll have to excuse me. Osi has quite the penchant for red-heads, and I haven’t had a chance to tend to either his or his brother’s needs this morning. If you’d like to come back in an hour, I can -”

“C…can I watch?” Sunburst interrupted, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.

Like any good scholar, the fiery-maned femcolt must have done his research and discovered that acts which would normally be considered taboo were welcome within the shop ~ what other justification was there for him to spontaneously and quite boldly ask to spectate? Giggling like a schoolfilly, Hoity knelt down and turned Otun away from him. Like any good entrepreneur, he was perfectly comfortable with such a humble request from a would-be client.

“Velvety soft and remarkably pliable,” Hoity noted as he spread Otun’s buns to display the silken, winking ring of flesh that lie between them. “I don’t believe a pony of your persuasion would be seeing much use of this side of a stud, although even the most virile, dominant stallion enjoys a good rimming from time to time - apropos…”
While he made out with Otun’s rear, taking in heady, exotic musk with every breath, he blindly reached over and gripped Osi’s shaft. He’d fallen for them from the moment he first laid eyes upon them, and his attachment to the pair had only grown stronger as time had gone on. To take a duo of siblings as partners was unheard of in Equestrian society, namely due to the incestuous nature involved in sharing a bed with two brothers - mercifully, such judgmental restraints didn’t exist with Zebricans.

His every motion was delivered artfully, feasting upon one zebra’s tush while jacking off the other, as Sunburst looked on with a mixture of admiration and envy. He couldn’t blame the femcolt for being jealous, given his denied state, and he’d happily use that to his benefit. There were plenty of striped stallions who pined to take pony lovers for themselves, and a shocking number who actually preferred subjugating effeminate stallions, so it was his right - nay, his duty to find them homes and partners to satisfy.

While he was tempted to continue feasting on Otun’s rump like a famished mongrel, the fleeting appetizer was enough to whet his appetite. Rearing back and twisting in place, he leveled his focus at the thick slab of obsidian meat in his grasp. He tried to dote on the brothers equally, since showing too much favoritism would risk breeding contempt, and now it was time to balance the scales.

After giving Osi’s cock-head an introductory kiss, he leaned forward and worked his lips around the thick, midnight-black tip of stallionhood. They’d both showered that morning, less than two hours ago, yet the ambrosial bouquet that wafted to his sinuses, the delightful flavors dancing over his taste buds, and the look of wild lust in the studs’ eyes was a constant reminder of the differences between Equestrians and Zebricans. Like comparing wolves and purse dogs, their species had perilously little in common - at least, in a carnal regard.

He hummed as he bobbed his head, working Osi up and ensuring their impromptu exhibition wouldn’t be found lacking. Getting the duo wrapped around his fingers was a laughably easy affair, something he often did without even intending to, but that pendulum swung both ways. When the brothers got excited, he got aroused - when he got aroused, it was nigh impossible for him to rein in his libido.

As he swallowed down a mouthful of thick, salty pre-cum, his composure waned. Rising up to his full height, he gestured to a nearby, vacant display. The brothers knew him inside and out, both literally and metaphorically, and they would follow commands without expressly needing to be told what to do.

Otun pivoted on a heel, stepped up onto the empty showcase, and pressed his shoulder to a steel pole rising through its center to the ceiling. As he took a broad stance, lifting his hip and putting a sway in his back, his shortly-cropped tail flagged. He and his brother, like Hoity, were the embodiment of switches, just as keen to receive as they were to give, and they were always - always ready for action.

“Such good colts,” Hoity softly exclaimed as he walked over and clutched Otun’s hips. “If you can last longer than your brother, he’ll be wearing that cage when we’re through ~ understood?”

“Yes,” Otun and Osi replied in nearly perfect unison.

Touching his cock-head to Otun’s entrance, Hoity stopped, pinched the bridge of his snout, and sighed. “Again, I must apologize, Sunburst. Would you like a toy or plug to amuse yourself with? I’ve have a - oh…”

Sunburst had remained mute, but his actions were a dead giveaway that a marital aid wasn’t necessary. As he bit his lip and gawked at something behind Hoity, likely Osi’s endowment, a rope of glimmering pre-cum dangled from beneath his skirt. Irrespective of whether or not he had something lodged in his rear, it was clear that he was on pins and needles for the demonstration to begin.

“Observe,” Hoity cooed.

Plunging into Otun’s welcoming depths, while Osi’s blunt, broad cock-head popped into him, he slowly exhaled. When it came to sinful delights, the sort of things his clientele sought him out for, showing was vastly superior to telling - bearing that in mind, he was inclined to do just that. As he was hilted, skewered upon the entirety of one brother’s length, his entrance was stretched open by a girthy medial ring.

He pecked the back of Otun’s neck as he squeezed the base of Osi’s shaft. “I must say, this is my favorite kind of sandwich.”

His amused tone was anything but feigned. He wasn’t one to prescribe in fate, having considered one’s circumstances in life a mixture of serendipity and one’s choices, yet the brothers had changed that. Osi and Otun were a beautifully packaged gift from the heavens, mirroring his incredible sex-drive and predilection for both topping and bottoming, and he had to assume that some higher power had brought them all together.

Freeing a portion of his length, and prompting Osi to do the same with him, he slid his hands around Otun’s torso and ran his fingers over the stud’s nipples. He really was blessed, finding both success and two faultless lovers, but he could give thanks to any powers that be later - after he’d sealed the deal with his marish little visitor. As he began to buck, without saying a single, solitary word, his paramours moved in tune with him.

The three of them were a transcendent symphony. Their hushed moans, muted grunts, and heavy breaths mingled, creating a soft choir, while they acted in concert. While some couples found the need to wax poetic or praise their respective mates mid-coitus, such trivialities were beneath them.

Inching closer to the action, Sunburst wiped drool from his chin. “H…holy cow…”

“Oh there’s - Nnnnm - nothing holy about this union,” Hoity quipped. “You’ve piqued my curiosity, Sunburst. Let me see what you’re smuggling in that cozy little hole of yours.”

Ordinarily speaking, he wouldn’t have been so bold as to assert, much less ask about the sex-toys his guests may or may not have in themselves, but he was glad that he had in this case. With his eyes glued on the threesome, Sunburst spun around and revealed a jeweled plug trapped in his pucker. The gratification of his assumption being correct added a welcome thrill to the bolts of pleasure surging through him.

He could fully sympathize with Sunburst’s plight - actually, he pitied Sunburst. A cold, unyielding toy, no matter its size or craftsmanship, just didn’t compare to being with somepony. The heat of a body against you, the fullness of a hot stallionhood afforded one’s backside or throat, and the smell of sex were beyond anything one could experience alone. With his resolve hardening, tempered by the pitiable sight of a pony in need, he ground to a halt.

“Is something wrong?” Osi softly inquired.

Peeking back while wiggling his tush, Otun pouted. “Are we not -”

“No, no,” Hoity grumbled, “there’s nothing the matter with you - either of you. “Tuntun?” he demurely shouted. Getting no appreciable response, but knowing he’d been heard, he leveled his gaze at the curtain behind the counter at the rear of his shop. “Tuntun, if you’d be so kind as to join us - tout de suite, please.”

Basking in Sunburst’s reaction to seeing Tuntun, the very Zebrican he’d just had Shutter photograph, he snickered. Whether it was purely by coincidence, fortune, or something altogether different, an opportunity had presented itself. As the stud strutted over and gave him an expectant look, his eyes flicked toward Sunburst.

Tuntun sized up Sunburst, looking over from top to bottom, then gave a curt bow. “Might I have the honor of making you my mare.”

Hoity couldn’t say what had inspired the line, yet it struck with such resonance that Sunburst nearly melted. “Indulge him, Tuntun, and be sure he’s completely satisfied.”

Leaving the pair to make introductions, he turned his focus to the task - rather, tasks at hand. Rutting a stallion wasn’t as simple as the uninitiated may have assumed, and it was all the more tricky when one was getting screwed one’s self - fortunately for him and everypony involved, he was an artist. He bucked his hips and at a slightly different angle, crushing Otun’s p-spot and earning a sonorous moan of pleasure, before withdrawing and fucking himself on Osi’s shaft.

Having a romp with his colts never failed to lift his spirits and fill him with life, although sharing the joy of Zebrican stallions with somepony he knew, particularly since he’d presumed said somepony had been straight, was so exhilarating that it tested his self-composure. With nothing left to be said, reveling in the sound of Sunburst whimpering and writhing in Tuntun’s clutches, he hastened his pace.

Like many times before, and many times yet to come, Otun and Osi left nothing whatsoever to be desired. While one brother milked his cock from tip to base, fighting his backstrokes and relaxing on his thrusts, the other assaulted his bitch-button. How some stallions could fully commit to one role in the bedroom was perplexing at best and ignorant at worst. To truly - truly relish sex, one should enjoy every decadent facet of the activity.

Being with both of them at once was hedonism made manifest. Either one of the brothers could have brought him lustful joy, but the two of them together was beyond the pale. As he playfully nibbled Otun’s ear, while Osi did likewise to him, enthusiasm soared.

Little by little, bit by bit, his attention drifted away from Sunburst and to his lovers. It was difficult to tell which of the two would outlast the other, yet the suspense and speculation was part of the fun of it. Doing everything in his not inconsiderable lascivious power to please them both, he glanced back.

Though it was so subtle that he initially questioned if his senses were playing tricks on him, Osi’s rhythm was starting to shift. There was a vehemence to the zebra’s thrusts, something akin to a desperation, and his breathing became fierce. Understanding that the bearer of the cage may change between the siblings faster than he’d originally thought, he decided to make the contest a bit more interesting.

He draped himself over Otun’s back while tenderly teasing the stud’s nipples. “Are you ready to be bred, my sweet?”

Otun’s legs buckled as he spoke. It is said that all is fair in love and war, and he completely agreed with the adage. While his arrogance with sensual affairs was well-deserved, even he wasn’t immune to the wiles of his affectionate paramours. Inching closer and closer to his limit, biting his tongue to delay the inevitable, he threw a hand back and squeezed Osi’s hip.

Osi stiffened and hilted his length as he shot forward and bit the nape of Hoity’s neck. His stallionhood flared, its tip ballooning to double its usual size, erupting into the pony. He never had and likely never would want to lay a finger on a mare, although he could relate with them on a great many levels - not just because they shared an admiration for stallions, but because the feeling of being creampied was nothing short of godly.

Stars danced in front of his eyes while he passed the point of no return. Climaxing with somepony was akin to a spiritual experience for him, and being able to enjoy such a thing with twins who cared for him and shared him equally was downright nirvanic. While he was consumed by bliss, his climax set off a domino effect of devastatingly depraved proportions.

Hoity crossed the finish line seconds after Osi, the sweltering influx of seed surging into his guts proving too much to bear, and Otun wasn’t far behind either of them. The combination of their moans was a lecherous song, yet they were drowned out by a shrill, marish wail of ecstasy. Savoring the euphoria that steadily overtook his blinding rapture, Hoity looked over as Sunburst had the cum fucked out of him.

It was a glorious sight, one that warmed his heart and was so stirring that it reinvigorated his softening stallionhood. He didn’t want to be premature, not wanting to count his chickens before they’d hatched, but his instincts told him that Sunburst wasn’t going to be walking out without Tuntun being at his side. Sweetly caressing and kissing on his studs, he contentedly smiled.

“Colts,” he began, “let us give them a bit of privacy.”

Osi withdrew from his cum-slickened depths, while Otun straightened and unsheathed himself. As thrilling as it would have been to stay and watch Sunburst earn a belly full of Zebrican cream, he’d hate to make the poor femcolt feel self-conscious - besides, if his suspicions were correct, he could use his time wisely and begin getting some paperwork in order. Clenching his pucker and trapping most of the cum in his ass, he turned, went to saunter away, and froze when a pair of hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Can you…?” Osi mumbled.

Otun gingerly rubbed the side of his neck. “Can we…?”

Hoity spun around, momentarily hugged them both, then pressed his face between their cheeks. “Of course you can get some sugar, colts, but you have to share.”

With that, the siblings simultaneously kissed him. The care they held for him was phenomenal, and it was the true reason why he would never let either of them go - that and he could never come close to repaying them for what they’d done for him. Had they not stepped into his life, he wouldn’t have gotten the inspiration to start his new business - without them, he wouldn’t have found true happiness. Sloppily kissing them in unison, their tongues entwining with his, he quaked with glee while wondering what lucky pony would come waltzing through his doors next…

Filthy Rich

Filthy fought the urge to recoil as the length in her gullet pulsed and flared. It was far from the first time she’d had a load pumped down her throat, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, so she held herself steady and bided her time. As she blinked away a tear, her eyes shot up to the stallion’s grinning face.

Jek wrenched Filthy’s head back, unsheathed himself from her muzzle, and painted her face with the final shots of his essence. “What do we say…?”

“T…thank - Cough - thank you, s…sir,” Filthy murmured, her voice hoarse and jaw aching.

Sliding his hand down from her mane to her jaw, Jek lifted her head. “You can thank me by cleaning yourself up. Seriously, as much as I like the used whore look, you look like shit.”

Filthy averted her gaze, though she made no move to escape from his grasp. “I…I will.”

“Good girl,” Jek snorted. “Now quit fucking around and get going. We’re going to be having company soon, and I don’t want everypony I’m railing some washed up, would-be mare who can’t even make herself presentable.”

Pushing herself up, Filthy gave a slight bow, turned, and got a resounding smack on the ass as she trotted away. Cum seeped from her ass and between her thighs, the spunk on her face was already starting to cool, and she could tell without looking that Jek had been right - she was a total mess. While she strolled out of the den and into the hallway, toward the stairs that would lead up to the bedrooms on the second floor, she idly took stock of her surroundings.

The manor, the very one she’d bought shortly after getting married, was in shambles. Most of the artwork and fineries were gone, being either sold, seized, or given away, and all of the servants and staff members had long since resigned. In a sense, it was poetic - her abode, much like herself, had fallen to shambles after Spoiled had left her, yet neither she nor her once magnificent mansion were without use.

As she walked along, the only sound to greet her was that of the rhythmic click-clack of her heels against the marble floor. It was silent moments like these, ones where she was left to her thoughts, that tormented her. Without somepony to look after, she had no purpose - thankfully, despite her family abandoning her, she’d found a way to endure.

She halted as she came into her suite’s bathroom and gazed at her reflection. The proud business pony and father that had been Filthy Rich was dead, gutted financially, emotionally, and spiritually by the treachery of her ex and estranged daughter - in his place, stood the mockery of a stallion. Setting the hot water to run, she reached over and plucked a washcloth from a hanging rack on the wall.

To say that she’d been devastated when she walked in on Spoiled getting plowed by a zebra on their anniversary would be an understatement of astronomical proportions, although that cataclysmic blow had been the first of many. The divorce had stripped her of most of her assets, she’d been forced to shudder her Barnyard Bargains shops, and the empire she’d spent most of her life building crumbled before her very eyes. Finding out that Diamond had become an adult performer, while not entirely shocking, had ground a considerable amount of salt in an already gaping wound.

In short, over the span of several months, she’d been ruined. Her wife was gone, her daughter was making a living by fucking strangers, and her coffers had been drained considerably. She’d actually considered surrendering everything and moving on, going off to some far-flung, remote little village where nobody knew her to start fresh, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Wiping off her face with the dampened cloth, she peeked up at the mare in the mirror and grinned.

Maybe it had been due to a twisted psychological coping mechanism, or perhaps she’d eventually just snapped - regardless, while in a drunken, depressed stupor several months prior, she’d had a revelation. Since Spoiled and Diamond had practically devoted themselves to Zebricans, and because there were a startling number of ponies in town who’d taken striped lovers, an old proverb had come to her brandy-soaked mind - if you can’t beat them, join them.

She’d initially taken a conventional route, attempting to court zebra mares with her charm and good look, although she had no success whatsoever - worse yet, she’d been laughed at several times for her attempts. If she’d still had her wealth, businesses, and the affluence that came with them, she may have been able to attract some striped little minx - alas, between her lack of capital and the rumor mill abuzz with news of her crumbled family, she had no luck whatsoever. It wasn’t until she’d stumbled into Flim and Flam, finding the pair just as they were packing up to leave Ponyville, that things started to turn around for her.

She hadn’t seen the siblings in ages, a few years at least, and they had not been the way she remembered them. Though the repeated consumption of a mixture of potions, each working in harmony with one another, Flim had become a genuine mare, while Flam, who was still technically a stallion, had shed virtually all of his masculinity. Seeing the pair had been jarring, yet Filthy had been intrigued. If two strapping studs could change so dramatically, and find happiness as a result, why couldn’t she.

Needless to say, after a bit of bartering and begging, she’d set out on a new chapter of her life. The elixirs she’d procured from Flim and Flam, buying out nearly their entire inventory, each had a particular use. Some of the potions would affect her body, a few would impact her mind or libido, and there were a couple that could alter her erogenous zones, but they all had one thing in common - dosing. The amount of each cocktail varied, as did when she was supposed to take it, and she’d been given very strict instructions to follow for her gradual metamorphosis - regrettably, she never had been a patient pony.

There were days when she’d take two or even three times the amount of potion that was advised, spurred by a burning need to feel wanted by anypony, and her recklessness had paid off - holy hell, had it ever paid off. The aches and pains she’d suffered while her form was remade, altering from the inside out, had been a small price to pay for the final results. Over the span of a mere two months, she was hardly recognizable.

She couldn’t argue with the results of what she’d done to herself, having several young, brazen stallions openly flirt with her upon debuting her new self, and that was how she’d met Jek. Bigger, stronger, and more assertive than his friends, the mohawked stud had promised to give her a night she wouldn’t forget, and he hadn’t been bluffing. Within days, he’d moved in with her - after a month, he’d made her his house-bitch.

Flinching when she heard a commotion from the direction of the foyer, likely the friends Jek had mentioned arriving, she shook her head and hastily reapplied her makeup. There were certain expectations set upon her, ones that had taken her time and practice to acclimate to, and she wasn’t about to break them. She brushed back her mane, straightened her top, and strutted back back in the direction of the living room.

As she sauntered along, instinctively staying her hips as she went, a movement caught her eye as she passed the entryway. She stopped in her tracks, seeing herself in one of the glass windows that flanked the front door, and wearily smiled. Was she happy with what she’d become? No, not necessarily, although it beat a long, lonely life of solitude.

Her weighty breasts, broad hips, slender waist, and succulent ass had given her what she needed, even if what she needed wasn’t necessarily what she’d wanted. Jek made her feel young again, teasing her and fucking her for hours on end, and a part of her had grown to love him for it. Being with somepony so much younger than herself had been difficult at first, particularly because she hadn’t been into stallions at all, but the way he treated her, objectifying her and showing her off to his companions like a trophy, was exhilarating in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

Straightening her top, she winced. Beneath the snug, elastic covering her bust, her nipples went rigid around a pair of large, golden hoops. She had mixed opinions about ponies who had piercings, yet, given the lengths she’d gone to to alter herself, she couldn’t judge them for their decisions. She took a step closer to the den and faltered at the sound of raucous laughter.

Jek’s friends, a group of zebra stallions his age, were a rowdy bunch that were almost as chauvinistic as he was. Backing away, having some inkling of what she was in for, a small change of course was in order. She’d be catcalled and teased as soon as she made an appearance, in all likelihood due to her stud, so mollifying them would serve in her best interest.

Her trip to the kitchen was brief, just long enough to fetch a slab of chilled beer from the fridge, although she took her time returning to the living room. For all the things Jek had done for her and to her, a sliver of who she once was loathed him. She hadn’t been the best pony in the world, being unappreciative of her ex-wife and neglecting to spend much time with her daughter, yet the misogynistic stallion who’d claimed her and fucked what little dignity she had out of her, made the old Filthy Rich look like a saint.

“The fuck is that slut,” Jek openly groused, his voice making her hasten her pace. “Hey, bitch, if you can hear me, you should -”

“Bring some beers for you colts?” she chirped with feigned glee while presenting the case of cold brews.

Jek reclined and waved a hand at her. “Right on cue - see, I told you she makes a damn good house-bitch.”

“Damn man,” one of the stallions exclaimed as she walked in and sat the beers on a coffee table. “Is it me, or is she even finer than I remember?”

“You tell me,” Jek guffawed. “Thanks for the drinks, doll.”

Filthy gave a curtsy and brought her hands to her sides. “You’re quite welcome. Is there anything else I can -”

“Yeah there is,” another stallion interrupted, having reached forward and pulled a can from the case of beer. “Give us a little entertainment to go with these suds.”

Glancing over to Jek, Filthy remained motionless. She only took orders from one pony, and doing otherwise was a guaranteed way to make her life harder than it already was. Draping his arms over the sofa he was seated on, leaving his friends to sit on the floor, lean on the walls, or simply mill about, he gave a subtle, nearly imperceptible nod.

As she backed away and to the center of the room, the clearest part of the chamber, her eyes darted from one stallion to the next. She couldn’t remember their names, never having gotten a proper introduction to either of them, but each of them was watching her intently - expectantly. Bringing her arms behind her head, she cocked her hips and started to move.

She wasn’t, nor had she ever been the best dancer in the world, but she’d taken steps to fix that - mostly at Jek’s behest. According to him, mares were only good for two things - looking good and feeling better - and she’d done everything she could to make herself valuable in both regards. While she swayed and spun in place, nearly causing her tits to pop out of her laughably small tube top, the stallions snickered and grinned.

This was her time to shine, whether she’d asked for it or not. She’d learned how to suck dick, drawing from the many blowjobs she’d received before her life had fallen to shambles, and her love for cock had been beaten into through her prostate - now, with a chance to properly show herself off to a group of studs, she was going to prove herself.

She’d seen enough strippers to have some grasp on what was expected of her, gradually revealing herself throughout the impromptu routine. As she took a broad stance and bent over, tugging at her top to unveil her tits, one of the stallions in front of her unzipped his pants. Slipping the fabric from her bust, and allowing her breasts to hang freely from her chest, she giggled.

She couldn’t explain it - hell, it had taken her weeks to even begin accepting it, although there was something cathartic about displaying who and what she’d been reduced to. Jek and his friends, all of whom were less than half her age, each had noticeable, growing bulges within their pants or shorts. The stallion before her, being particularly inspired, steadily withdrew a throbbing, ebony length from his jeans while smirking at her.

“Shake that fat, fuckable ass for ‘em,” Jek urged.

Without skipping a beat, she squatted down and started to twerk. The skirt hugging her waist slid upward as she moved, revealing the neon-pink thong clinging to her nethers and hidden in the cleft of her doughy tush. The soft, rhythmic clap clap clap of her backside caused the group to murmur excitedly, and at least three of them stepped in for a closer view, while they hungrily eyed her.

A stud to her left guffawed and pointed to her swaying tush. “Shit ~ you got her spaded?”

“Damn right I did,” Jek huffed. “Even if the bitch runs off on me, everypony’ll know she’s a slut for zebra cock.”

The tattoo on her flank, completely covering the cutie mark on her right side, was an irrevocable testament to how far she’d fallen. Happy to flaunt the large, stylized spade emblazoned on her upper thigh and hip, she unzipped and allowed her skirt to fall to the floor. Considering her tits were out, and that everypony in the room could already see her all but bare ass, there was no harm in taking off the piece of clothing - or so she thought.

“Hold up,” a stallion grunted. Stomping closer and squinting at her groin, he recoiled. “The fuck is that?”

Following his gaze, Filthy felt her blood run cold. There was only a single part of her that served as a remnant of what she’d once been, and the reminder of what it was, as well as that it had been spotted, filled her with dread. Turning her head and shooting Jek an imploring look, she bit back a fearful whine.

“C’mere,” Jek commanded, spreading his legs and patting his thigh.

Filthy’s eyes sailed to the profound swell of Jek’s stallionhood while she straightened. He was the only one in the room who was aware of her secret, and she’d prefer to keep it that way. Crossing to him and seating herself on his upper thigh, she leaned back as his hands slid around her sides and to her bosoms.

“Show ‘em,” he mused. Slipping his fingers through her hooped nipple piercings, he tugged on the unyielding rings and drew a whimper from her. “Show ‘em what you’ve been hiding.”

She wanted to protest, to do anything but what he’d asked for, but she wouldn’t. Any one of the stallions could have overpowered her, she was outnumbered, and the notion of losing Jek was so terrifying that she had no choice but to oblige him. Turning her head and clamping her eyes shut, she pulled her thong to the side and exposed her loins.

“Fuckin’ hell - dude, I didn’t know you were a faggot!” the stallion closest to them cackled.

Lowering his hand, Jek tapped a finger to the chastity locked to Filthy’s diminutive package. “I ain’t a faggot, and she’s definitely not a stallion. Tell ‘em what this is, bitch.”

“M…my clit,” she mumbled, the word coming naturally.

Jek chuckled as he flicked her puny coin purse. “See, you guys just don’t get it. Bitches like this are way, way better than your everyday mare,” he remarked while he tapped a finger to the lock on her cage. “Think about it - she does anything I want, I practically own her house, and I’m the only way she can get any relief ~ isn’t that right?”

Filthy nodded, turned to face him, and gave him and planted a tender kiss on his cheek. “Y…yeah…”

She’d told him the same thing on multiple occasions, slipping further and further under his thrall, yet this was the first time she’d confessed it in front of a crowd. As he withdrew an arm and pulled at a chain hanging from around his neck, unveiling a key, a bead of pre-cum drooled from her chastity and over her marble-sized balls.

To the best of her reckoning, her stallionhood, or what was left of it, was a byproduct of her impulsive haste with taking the transformative potions she’d invested in. She had considered tracking down Flim and Flam to see if they could help her complete the process of becoming a real mare, although that issue had solved itself. After Jek had found out what she’d been hiding, and subsequently discovered he preferred her the way she was, she’d been locked in chastity.

“Maybe I should let her out,” Jek hummed. “At this point, I doubt she can even get hard anymore - not after I’ve had her wearing the thing for the last two months.”

She couldn’t have cared less about having her cage removed, but she wouldn’t deny that the notion of freedom, even if it was fleeting, was titillating. While Jek’s friends walked over, he pulled the key from around his neck, brought it to her groin, and slipped it into the lock securing her restrained package, she fought the urge to fidget. It had been so long since anything other than the cage had touched her clit that she struggled to remember what it felt like, and her mounting excitement quickly overshadowed her embarrassment.

“Just gotta…” Jek breathed.

Snap

With a violent twist of his wrist, he sheared the key off in the tumbler and tossed its broken half to the floor. Her pupils dilated then shrank to pinpricks, a cold pit formed in her stomach, and her jaw went slack as realization dawned on her. The bridge to the stallion she had been was destroyed, shattered before her very eyes, and there was no going back.

“Now get the fuck off and choke yourself on my cock, fucking sissy,” Jek growled, shoving her off and sending her toppling to the floor.

The laughter from the stallions, the humiliation, and shame of what she’d done to herself, the depths she’d sunk to, hit her with apocalyptic force. Rolling and pushing herself up, attempting to kneel, she hesitated when she saw Jek’s rigid length above her. It was at that moment, resting on the floor and surrounded by rambunctious, uncaring Zebrican studs, that all her cares evaporated.

Crawling between Jek’s legs, she clutched the base of his stallionhood, lowered it to her face, and started sucking him off. The jeers and snide remarks above her accentuated the taste of sweat and unwashed flesh on her palate, fueling her delirium and driving her wild with manic lust. There’d been a time when she would have been appalled with her actions, finding them reprehensible on every conceivable level, although that time, along with any hope of salvation, had passed.

“Look at that bucket cunt of hers,” a stud at her rear remarked.

While she widened her stance and lifted her tail, Jek burst into laughter. “Yeah, she’d got it bad. Caught the dumb slut fist-fucking herself a few times when I wouldn’t give it to her ~ didn’t I?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed around him while bobbing her head.

A hand caressed her backside, giving her goosebumps and stoking the fires of her maddening lust. She didn’t know who had been bold enough to touch her, and she honestly didn’t care - so long as somepony was going to do more than feel her up, they could do as they wanted with her. Sure enough, once she’d begun swabbing her throat with Jek’s cock, she felt it - what could only be the battering ram-like tip of a stallionhood kiss her entrance.

The sensation sent her into a frenzy and erased the vestiges of her self-control. Heaving her weight back, she smoothly consumed the stallion’s length within her loose, abused confines while continuing to slobber on Jek’s tool. While she rocked forward and back between the duo, milking either cocks with her lips and her loose pucker respectively, her mind went blank.

The world and everything around her became a blur of debauched indulgence. Now that she had what she craved, multiple ponies wishing to use her, she wouldn’t go without. Musing on just how much better she was than Spoiled, having successfully captivated an entire harem of studs, she shivered and came.

Clear, impotent spunk dribbled weakly from the confines of her steel chastity and to the dirty rub under her. Drowning in a sea of unrefined, decadent pleasure, she gagged and sputtered when Jek clutched the base of her skull and guided her motions. As the stud who’d mounted her fucked her as though she was a whore, things took a turn.

The instant the stallion came in her ass, he pulled his fully-flared dick from her, painted her back, and snatched her by the ankles. One moment, she’d been on all fours with Jek’s shaft plugging her gullet - the next, she was thrown supine on the coffee table. Immediately understanding what was coming, she held her arms out to her sides, draped her head off the edge of the surface, and spread her legs.

They were upon her in a flash, and she was ready for them. The distended, swollen ring of her pucker rhythmically clenched and relaxed around one stallionhood, her lips mopped another, and she squeezed and stroked another two in her hands - all while a fifth intrepid stud who’d straddled her torso fucked her tits. Many ponies, mares or otherwise, would have been mortified at giving themselves to a group of stallions that viewed them as no more than an object, but not her - on the contrary, Filthy basked in their savagery.

Each orgasm she weathered washed away the scraps of herself she’d held dear. Her family, the few friends who’d been steadily drifting away from her, what was left of her once vast fortune - they were all meaningless. What she’d gained, a true meaning, was worth more than anything she ever had or ever would possess.

It was a total mystery how long the gang took turns with her, with one stepping in and filling her muzzle or ass as soon as they were vacant, although she eventually awoke and found herself on the floor. Rolling languidly to her side and staring up at the ceiling, she cleared a combination of saliva, foal-batter, and pre-cum from her aching throat.

As she glanced down at herself, the corners of her smeared lips turned up. Somepony, though she knew not who, had taken it upon himself to give her a parting gift. An arrow had been painted on her inner thigh, pointing to her crotch with the words useless written beneath it, although it wasn’t alone. Slurs anointed her frame, going from her tits to her thighs, and that was just what she could see.

She shakily got her feet under her, stood, and stumbled to the side. Every part of her hurt, but she paid the aches and pains little regard. While she turned in place, looking for any sign of Jek or where his companions had gone, she saw herself in the window.

Though a veritable river of cum seeped from her bruised, gaped cunt, she could easily pass for an expectant mare. Her belly was bloated, rounded from Celestia knows how many loads of jizz that had been pumped down her throat or into her rear, and there were several bite marks on her tits and neck. Her snicker blossomed into a laugh, causing more spunk to leak from her ass, while the gravity of what she’d done sank in.

The absurdity of what she’d submitted to was only eclipsed by her slatternly state, yet she was overjoyed. She was free, truly free, and nopony could ever take that from her. Turning and wandering out of the chamber, kicking empty beer cans as she went, she shambled to the nearest bathroom with a shower. Jek would be back eventually, returning from wherever he’d gone off to, and she was going to be sure to thank him for everything he and his friends had done…

Blueblood

Brushing her mane back, Blueblood kissed at her reflection. The icy blue of her eyes and the luxurious golden locks flowing down her back and over her shoulders always had been enough to get her plenty of attention, although they now took a distant backseat to the rest of what she had to offer. In every sense of the word but one, she was a fertile goddess, a paragon of femininity and charm, and she’d taken it upon herself to share her love with the world and anypony who sought out companionship.

As she gave a deep, satisfied sigh and closed her compact, memories of her fateful journey came rushing back to her. She’d been so silly! Seriously, what sort of self-respecting mare would ever want some big, admittedly crude stallion who flaunted his money and looks over his personality? Time and time again, her advances and attempts at finding her special somepony had failed - that was, until she had a revelation.

For many years, most of her life, she’d had the wrong idea about herself and how to conduct herself! She tried to start small, doing plenty of research and outright paying mares to give their thoughts on relationships and what they looked for in a stallion, but then it happened - a magical moment that changed her life forever. A big, striped stud, one who was almost as big as she was, had complimented her looks.

She’d been so gobsmacked by the flattery of the unfamiliar zebra that she hadn’t known what to think, but she knew she liked it - she liked it a lot. After that brief exchange, the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things, she’d reevaluated every facet of her life. Her behavior, how she carried herself, her pursuits - each and every one of them had come to revolve around one thing.

Zebras - heaven help her, she found them positively captivating. From their size and exotic nature to the way they looked at her, the adonic equines tickled her in a way nopony ever had before! They were why she’d decided to become the mare she was, going through months of expensive treatments to forsake her masculinity and make herself more appealing, and they’d been the reason she’d started her little business.

Straightening up, she turned and looked out the window beside the counter she stood behind. Ponies of all sorts talked by, out and about while doing whatever they pleased, although it was only a matter of time until somepony came to pay her a visit. Bits could and always would open certain doors that would otherwise remain closed, which was how she’d been able to open her parlor.

She wasn’t technically any laws, yet the nature of her work toed several legal lines. On the surface, purely at a glance, she owned a massage parlor - that being said, her clients got much, much more than rest and relaxation. As far as she was concerned, prostitution was a victimless crime, particularly when her mares were cared for and enjoyed their work, and she was quite proud of what she’d accomplished in such a short period of time.

As a group of six young zebras crossed the street, making a beeline to her storefront, Blueblood’s smile broadened. She catered to anypony who was brave enough to enter, irrespective of their sex or species, but she had her preferences. As the half-dozen studs walked in, setting the bell above her door to jingle, she closed her eyes and bowed.

“Welcome,” she demurely stated, keeping her head low.

“So, yeah, we need a little favor,” a stallion exclaimed as he pushed his companion closer to her. “It’s our buddy’s last night to be a free stallion, and we were thinking he should cut loose.”

Rising to her full, imposing height, Blueblood peered downward and past her mountainous chest at a timid little stallion who wouldn’t or couldn’t look up and meet her gaze. She’d always been on the large side, being taller and more heavily built than most, and that hadn’t changed after her metamorphosis. As she loomed over the stud, her eyes meandered down his chest and to his nethers.

The stallion in question, having been unceremoniously driven to the front of the group by his friends, anxiously played with his hands while keeping his eyes on the floor. “H…hello.”

Blue smoothly turned, trotted around the counter, and sank to one knee at his side. Putting her guests at ease and making them feel comfortable was a key facet of her position and a mark of pride for her. Bringing her face to eye level with him, she cautiously reached out, took him by the wrist, and gently lifted his arm.

“Enchanté,” she breathed. “I’m Blue, the proprietor of this fine establishment, and it’s my pleasure to meet you.”

As he went to look up at her, he faltered and peered over at her expansive cleavage. Making herself presentable and alluring was part and parcel of her profession, although her revealing attire, consisting of a low-cut blouse, miniskirt, and fishnets was modest compared to what several of her mares typically wore. Gently kissing the back of his hand, she released him and rose to her full, imposing height.

“I…I…I’m…” he stammered, his face going beet red.

She would have felt bad for him, were it not for a distinct, if not faint twitch beneath the fabric over his groin. “Take your time, sweetheart, I’m - Goodness!”

Without any warning whatsoever, one of the stallion’s friends, the one who’d addressed her upon entering, shoved him from behind. The poor fellow lost his balance, toppled forward, and landed with his head firmly lodged between her breasts. She wasn’t bothered - in fact, she found the entire affair rather amusing, although she couldn’t take the development sitting down - metaphorically speaking.

Taking him by the shoulders, she held him in place while taking a step back. “As endearing as your friends’ enthusiasm is, I must apologize on their behalf,” she began, shooting a semi-stern glance at the gaggle of snickering zebras. “Tell me, do you have a name? Even if you aren’t interested in my services, I would be remiss for not asking.”

“Itiju,” he croaked, his voice a wavering.

“Well it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Itiju. Would you ~ excuse me?” she cut herself off as his companions began filing out. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”

Dismissively waving a hand back at her, the de facto leader of the gang walked out behind his friends. “Nah, I was serious. We’ll be back in an hour with bits for you - in the meantime, make him regret tying himself down to that pegasus chick he’s fallen head over heels for.”

The door closed, the bell above it jingling as it shut, and Blue found herself alone in the small, cozy lobby alone with her flustered visitor. “Pardon me for asking, but are they always like that?”

Itiju nodded solemnly while watching his friends depart. “Yeah…”

Had the circumstances been different, Blue would have politely asked him if he had any real interest in any intimate activities then, depending on his answer, either excused him or called upon one of her mares to tend to him, although she hesitated. His sheepishness and his age, appearing as though he was barely an adult, were compelling - so compelling that she decided to take a different approach. Pressing the index finger and thumb of one hand between her luscious lips, she gave a sharp whistle.

“Coming,” a lilting voice called out before a buxom mare scampered through a doorway leading deeper into the building. “Yes ma’am?”

“See to the front desk,” Blue intoned. Stepping around to Itiju’s side, she rested a hand on his shoulder and took a step. “While I may be mistaken, I get the impression that your friends will be immeasurably disappointed if you don’t have a story to tell.”

Once again, Itiju nodded. “Probably. They’re good guys, but they can be really pushy - too pushy.”

“You have my sympathies for that,” Blue sighed, lazily strolling away from the desk while delicately guiding the stallion along. “If you’ll permit it, we can have refreshments and chat for a bit - nothing obscene or bombastic, I assure you. After we’re through, and your companions return, you’ll be free to make up whatever fanciful tale you’d like ~ how’s that sound?”

“That…” Itiju trailed off as he weakly smiled up at her. “That actually sounds nice.”

She beamed, overjoyed that she’d managed to help him relax, if only slightly, while she trotted down a hallway and past a series of doors. Her house of ill repute, like the mares in her employ, was kept immaculate and opulent. Leading him around a corner and to her personal suite, once that rarely saw use, she ran her hand over his back.

“You’re quite tense,” she quietly remarked, feeling the tautness in his muscles and noticing the stiffness of his gait. “Were those comments about your betrothal true?”

“They were - are,” he hastily corrected. “I’ve only known Squall for about six months, but I know she’s the one.”

“Squall,” Blue repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. “She must be quite the mare, if you’re willing to take her as your bride so quickly.”

A dreamy look crossed his face as he lifted his head and vacantly peered down the hallway. “She really is. She’s funny, she’s cute, and she’s…”

Blue denied the urge to look over her shoulder, having walked ahead of him by a few paces. “She’s…?”

“S…she’s - uh - she’s just great,” he sputtered.

Retrieving a key from her pocket, Blue slowed to a halt, bent over, and carefully unlocked her door. There was nothing overtly wrong or lewd about what she was doing, merely letting them into her room, although that was the trick to seduction. The best temptresses could beguile somepony in ways so subtle that it appeared natural, and she’d honed those skills to a razor’s edge.

She withdrew, stepped aside, and bayed he enter with a small bow. “Après vous…”

His eyes lingered on her flank for a moment, before he licked his lips, shook his head, and hastily sauntered by her. The guilt she felt from showing herself off, giving him a fleeting glimpse of her panties and shapely rump, was an exquisite accoutrements to her steadily increasing arousal. She’d had rolls with plenty of stallions, the number being well into the hundreds, yet it was the young, nervous, inexperienced ones, like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked, that she savored the most.

Walking in behind him, she pulled the door closed and deftly flicked the lock behind herself. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply as she strolled past him and eased herself down on the foot of her mattress. The suite served as an apartment of sorts, a place to crash if she was too weary to walk home in the dead of night, and it was stocked as such. Though small, the space had a recliner, kitchenette, and a small desk sat to one corner, although the overwhelming majority of the room was dominated by a custom-made, extra-large bed.

“Oh wow,” Itiju gasped while he drank in his surroundings. “This place has everything!”

“Almost everything,” she hastily corrected. Seeing a puzzled expression flit across his face, she hung her head and closed her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fine place to get some rest, but it’s far from perfect.”

Itiju inched closer, though he remained just out of arm’s reach. “What’s it missing though - like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not what,” she lamented, “who.”

While it would have been trivial for her to continue, waxing poetic and sowing a tale of sorrow and regret, she allowed him to speculate on her supposed plight. Her sorrowful facade was unwavering as she watched him through her bangs. He shuffled nearer, swallowed hard, and shakily reached out and tenderly patted her shoulder.

It took everything she had not to smirk, yet she managed to keep up her charade - if only just. “Let’s just say you have a very lucky marefriend…”

He knit his brow and grimaced as she finished speaking. “I…I don’t know about that…”

“Oh but you do,” she insisted. “You have your full life ahead of you, while I…”

Her tactical pause, though brief, spurred him to clear his throat. “What about you?”

“I’m this,” she pouted. Slowly pushing herself up, she towered over him and waved a hand at her immense, voluptuous frame. “As if being a giantess doesn’t make it hard enough to find prospective lovers, I’m not getting any younger - add to that the things I’ve done, what led me to maintaining this brothel, and I consider myself fortunate when stallions ask for my services…”

Burying her face in her palms, she quietly sniffed and peeked through her fingers. Being a call mare was practically a death sentence when it came to finding long-term partners - luckily for her, that had never been something she’d been after. As she lowered one hand sank her fingers into the yielding flesh of her right tit, while caressing her belly with the other, her mouth set to watering.

Itiju had taken the bait, he was sporting a boner, and now it was time to reel him in. Being attracted to maternal mares was extraordinarily common, and she’d made herself the perfect target for their desires - literally. The modifications she’d endured, giving her curves that could kill, udders that could rival most dairy cows, and a bountiful womb had cost a fortune, but they’d been worth every single bit.

As she looked away from him, her shoulders wilted. “Nopony in their right mind would want to be with some old, used up sow who’s carrying a bastard foal…”

It was a valid observation, yet the thought of everything she’d accomplished, being exquisitely gravid and an avatar of lechery, was a source of constant joy. She’d lost friends over the decisions she’d made, with a few scorning her out of envy, but they, along with her judgmental family, weren’t worth her concern. Awaiting Itiju’s reply, if he could find his voice, she snorted when she felt a cool dampness on her bust.

She hadn’t planned to start spontaneously lactating, having no control over that element of herself, although the situation was pure serendipity. Lifting her gaze over to Itiju, she couldn’t stop herself from grinning. The little stallion’s jaw was slack, his eyes were practically glazed over, and a bead of drool hung from his chin, while his stallionhood tried in vain to rip its way out of his slacks.

“D…do…” she murmured, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. “Do you know any stallion’s who might spare me some comfort…?”

Smoothly hooking her thumbs over the neck of her blouse, she gradually pulled her top open. Her breasts were so engorged that they spilled over her straining bra, and the flow of her milk was so prolific that it had seeped straight through the nursing pads she was wearing. With the smallest, most surreptitious use of her magic, so quick that it would have been impossible for Itiju to see it, her brassiere burst open and let her breasts fall heavily upon her foal-filled abdomen.

She couldn’t tell if Itiju had short circuited or not, her bashful display and self-pity potentially having fried something within his brain, but she wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. Crossing to him, she leaned forward, snaked her arms around his upper back, and pulled him to her rack. To Tartarus with it - they’d been doing the dance for long enough, he was clearly a bit hot under the collar, and she had the perfect thing to help him blow off some steam.

In a shocking turn of events, Itiju didn’t attempt to flee, push her away, or say anything - no, he coolly reared back, twisted his head, and latched onto her teat like a starved foal. The sheer zeal with which he nursed upon her was exquisite, like a fine cognac after a long, rewarding day, and it forced her hand. Igniting her horn, while holding him close and stroking his head, she daintily loosened his belt and popped the button of his pants.

It was no simple task to disrobe somepony who you were hugging, although she’d become quite skilled at it over the years. Tentatively guiding his slacks down his legs and to his ankles, she came to a crossroads. Would it be better to let him sate himself with her, allowing him the first potential move, or should she seize the initiative and give him what he craved. In the end, motivated by her raging libido and little else, the choice was obvious.

Scooping him up and holding him to her chest, ensuring he could drink his fill, she grunted and stood. It wasn’t that he was particularly heavy, not with her considerable size and strength, but carrying somepony in her gravid state was onerous at best. As she eased him onto the bed, situating him in a supine position along the mattress’ length, he tightly hugged her torso when she went to shy away.

“Now now,” she tutted with a giggle, “good colts behave themselves. You are a good colt ~ aren’t you?”

He swallowed a mouthful of rich cream, wiped his chin, then glanced down at himself and went rigid. She’d been right, he hadn’t noticed that he was being stripped, and his stunned reaction was the final nail in his carnal coffin - even if he didn’t realize it. Swinging a leg over his waist, she practically threw herself upon him.

Being adaptable was fundamental in her line of work. Different clients had different tastes, you could never be completely sure about how somepony was going to conduct themselves, and guessing the endurance of customers was a fool’s errand - be that as it may, her desires were also a factor. She’d intended to start things at a measured pace, sucking him off and worshiping him like the stud he was, but the plans had changed.

Dragging her rack over his chest, and leaving a trail of milk along his torso, she pecked his cheek. “Brace your legs for me, darling…”

His reaction was instantaneous, lifting and bending his legs to slam his feet against the mattress. He had no idea - no possible idea what he was in for, and she could scarcely wait for the grand reveal. With glacial speed, after giving him a fleeting kiss on the lips, she reclined and swung her arms back.

He propped himself up and gawked at her, quite possibly committing the sight of such a fecund mare pinning him down and preparing to have her way with him. Looking down from her bust and over her belly, his focus shifted to her loins. As she put a sway in her back and shifted her hips forward, he reached for the fabric draped over her crotch.

“Go ahead,” she rasped while she lifted her waist.

Flipping the delicate cloth upward concealing her groin upward, Itiju gave himself his first real look at her loins. While he’d doubtlessly been expecting a plump, juicy marehood, he was in for his biggest surprise of the evening - figuratively speaking. His eyes narrowed then widened as her secret was unveiled.

Blue’s ascent had continued all the while, until she’d reached the tip of his shaft and swung her hips back by the smallest of margins. Her pregnancy had prevented her from seeing the shriveled nub of flesh she’d once called a dick for well over a month, yet she knew it was still there. Unlike a great many stallions who’d gone all the way, changing themselves into mares in every way imaginable, she’d abstained - not because anything had gone awry, but because the rush of wooing and bedding straight stallions, convincing them that she was fully female, was addictive.
Languidly impaling herself upon him, taking his mighty stallionhood into the velvety ring that was her cunt, she moaned in delight. If he took umbrage with her diminutive, platinum-caged clit, he gave no sign whatsoever. While she slid lower and lower, relishing every inch of his length, he studied his face in anticipation.

Was he going to lay there limply while she fucked herself on him? Would he crumble to his bestial wants and rut her until she was squealing and squiring like an actual mare? Perhaps he’d eventually ask her to stop, once he’d come to his senses, and leave with his tail tucked between his legs? No matter what he did or didn’t do, she’d marked him, tarnishing his supposed heterosexuality, and he wouldn’t soon forget it.

Grabbing her hips and tensing, he fiercely hauled her downward while thrusting into her. He hadn’t said a thing, though his actions - his actions said more than words ever could. As he sat up and moved one hand to her lower back, pulling her closer while he jackhammered into her ass, he whimpered and mewled like a colt who’d just gotten lucky with his crush.

She indulged him of course, settling onto all fours while swinging one gigantic breast to his face. His actions screamed that he was a mama’s boy, having a fetishistic love for mares just like her, and he’d made it abundantly clear that her package did nothing to impede his sinful urges. Supporting herself on one outstretched arm, she held his head to her teat while running her fingers through his shortly-cropped mane.

“That’s right,” she cooed, gripping his wildly pistoning shaft in her vice-like entrance, “give it to mama…”

Her encouragement did wonders. His plunges were savage, lacking any precision or skill, and he sucked on her bosom so hard that it was uncomfortable - still, she was in heaven. A mares place was to please stallions, bring new life into the world, and be attractive - all of which she’d mastered. The raw gratification of fulfilling her purpose to its utmost, the assault on her bitch-button, and despoiling another stallion sent her hurtling to a climax.

With her eyelids fluttering and hair standing on end, she came. The delight of despoiling somepony, anypony, was transcended physical bliss by an order of magnitude. With her watery, sterile spunk pooling on Itiju’s abdomen, she rode out her ecstasy until a warm euphoria overtook her. She could have stopped and simply had him rut several orgasms out of her, although she wasn’t finished with him.

Luxury in every facet of her life was expected. The finest furniture, the most lavish meals, exquisite jewelry - each was dear to her, though none more so than her lovers. Studs of any variety could please her, regardless of how heavily endowed they were, because she’d moved past bodily needs. Her carnality lay within her mind, titillated by concepts and the influence she had on others, and it offered her more pleasure than any mere fleshly, sexual exchange.

Holding off until he was nearing his limit, and having climaxed another two times herself, she withdrew and peered down at him as his stallionhood flared. “Are you going to bring more colts to visit mommy?”

Itiju was a mess, his face slick with drool, milk, and sweat, yet he fervently nodded while pounding her well-trained pucker. “Uh…uh-huh…”

“Such a sweet little thing,” she fondly whispered. Relying on her instincts, and feeling his length pulse violently, she hilted herself upon him with her full weight. “Cum for me - cum for mommy.”

His pitiable whines were music to her ears, the heat flooding into her warmed the depths of her heart, and the scent of sex and unabashed lust filling her sinuses was ambrosial. She’d known he was coming, having successfully ensnared and bent his friends to her will, but she’d keep that secret to herself. Contracting and relaxing her entrance around him, drinking in every virile drop of his essence, she held and presented her left breast to his lips.

The faintest tapping at her door drew her eyes to the exit. “Yes?” she demurely inquired, holding Itiju’s head to her teat.

A stallion entered, followed by five others, though only the first of them spoke. “Did we do good, Mama?”

“Absolutely,” she giggled. “You colts did very, very good, and you’ll all be rewarded for it. Once my little foals enter the world, the six of you, including little Itiju here,” she continued as she fondly stroked the nursing stallion’s head, “can all do your best to knock your dearest Mommy up ~ how’s that sound?”

The stallions nodded and beamed, while Itiju’s cock twitched excitedly within her. Her ploy to ensnare unassuming lovers took time, patience, and no small amount of self-control, but it was worth it - by Celestia, was it worth it. She was little more than a refined sow, a foal-factory who robbed studs of their relative innocence, and it was what she lived for.

As he ravenously drank from her, her thoughts drifted to what the future would hold for her. She relished each and every stallion she conquered, and particularly those who insisted to see her over the mares in her employ, and she was sure that Itiju would be back to visit her again - only next time, he’d bring some new friends along. Closing her eyes, she contentedly sighed and basked in her latest, most adorable trophy…