Zebra Anthology

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.