Zebra Anthology

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…