Zebra Anthology

“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…