Zebra Anthology

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…