A Particularly Hard Lesson
Pulling his fur-lined cloak around himself, Thorax suppressed a shiver as he pressed through the icy expanse. He’d hoped he’d been done with the frigid north long ago, after his encounter with Spike all those years ago, yet fate had seen him return. He slowed, knowing he was close but uncertain of his exact whereabouts, and squinted into the driving wind.
There, no more than several dozen paces away, jutted a twisted jag of ice - no, of crystal. The small monument would have been easy to miss for anypony, especially under such inhospitable conditions, although this was far from his first trip to the area. Pressing onward and to the menacing crag, he placed a hand upon its smooth, featureless surface and winked from existence.
The teleportation was instantaneous and jarring. One moment, he’d been standing knee-deep in a drift of snow - the next, he was surrounded by coolly lit, shimmering walls of gemstone. A deafening silence rang in his ears, his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the biting cold from moments prior was replaced by a subtle warmth as he mechanically unfastened his cloak and rested it on a hanger affixed to the wall.
Looking around and finding himself alone, he sighed and trudged from the doorless foyer and down a corridor. A seed palace, a keep grown from crystalized magic, that’s what the structure was called - at least, that’s what he’d been told. Sorcery had never been his strong suit, excluding a mastery of his changeling abilities, and he had no interest whatsoever to learn about the dark, otherworldly forces that had crafted the ominous, subterranean edifice.
He slowed as he entered a room and eyed a bureau. Irrespective of how many times he’d gone through this, more than he’d like to count, there was always a particular moment of hesitation. Crossing the chamber and pulling open the dresser’s top drawer, he grimaced.
The attire that lay before him was the last thing any self-respecting stallion would wear - then again, he struggled to say he was a self-respecting stallion. Removing and arranging the various components of his uniform, he scrunched his snout in disdain. Could things have been better for him? Yes, without a doubt. Was he happy that things weren’t worse? No, simply because things couldn’t be worse.
It wasn’t two months ago that his life had been turned on its head. He’d gone out to pay Princess Cadance, Shining Armor, and little Flurry Heart a visit, simply eager to pay three of his trusted friends a visit, when everything had gone to Tartarus in a hand basket. Seconds after arriving at the threshold of the Crystal Kingdom, on the very outskirts of the city, he’d been overtaken by a black, menacing cloud that had rendered him unconscious.
When he’d finally awoken, he’d found a twisted, fanged grin and set of unmistakable eyes gazing down on him. Even if he hadn’t been shackled and unable to move, there would have been little he could do to save himself. He’d expected the worst, a life of mindless servitude or a swift, brutal end, although his inglorious captor had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
When and how Sombra had clawed his way out of the abyss was a mystery, although that hardly mattered at this point. The scourge of the Crystal Empire was bigger than him, stronger than him in every regard, and had supposedly planned on their little meeting for some time. As he loosened his pants and stepped back, gradually undressing himself, his thoughts darkened.
Sombra had made his intentions crystal clear from the onset. In exchange for his voluntary servitude, he and his hive would be allowed to keep their minds and small kingdom intact. The threat of his followers falling prey to the evil King had made him yield instantaneously, much to his shame, yet that was only one part of his orders. Every weekend, he was to report to his - ugh - master’s lair to serve as a maid.
He growled as he striped down and meticulously folded his clothes. He hadn’t seen nor heard Sombra since he’d arrived, and that was fine with him - in fact, that was better than fine. The faster he was done with his duties, tidying up the villain’s hidden palace, the quicker he could get home. As he bent over and removed his underwear, a sudden movement caught his attention to the side.
Resting against one wall of the room was a vanity with his reflection peeking back at him. Straightening up, he turned and inspected himself with a defeated sigh. He’d never been all that impressive, even after his reformation, and the sight of his bare, almost effeminate form only served to remind him of that regrettable fact.
Just as he went to turn, his eyes were drawn to a glint on his groin. Of all the humiliations Sombra had put him through, the cage he wore was the most insufferable. While he’d rarely, if ever, had use of his stallionhood, his imprisoned loins served as a constant reminder of his failures and the ne’er-do-well whom had brought him to heel.
“Stupid thing,” he impotently murmured down at the chastity.
The contraption was one of a kind, hewn from the same dark crystals that Sombra was so fond of using, and it was impossible to remove - he’d know, he’d tried many, many times. Not only did the cage lack any sort of keyway, rendering it unpickable, but any attempts to use his magic on it only made it shrink. Shaking his head to collect himself, he grumbled under his breath while he began to dress himself.
The good news was that he had plenty of things to do to distract himself, ranging from dusting furniture and sweeping the floors to preparing a meal for his nefarious host - the bad news was that his outfit was anything but flattering. Consisting of a shirt skirt, frilly blouse, and heels, each of which being black with white accents, his garb clashed violently with his vibrant hide, antlers, and brilliant eyes. For anypony to traipse about looking like some whorish parody of a servant would be unforgivable, yet there he was, the ruler of the freed changelings, doing just that.
The moment his attire was on, he marched out of the room and to a nearby broom closet. His determination to complete his tasks was compounded by the humiliation of what he’d been reduced to. He was a noble in his own right, darn it, so why was he playing housekeeper to some big, tall, smooth-talking…
He faltered and shook his head as thoughts drifted into lecherous waters. For as long as he could remember, he’d always had a preference for stallions - particularly large, dominant stallions, and he hated himself for being even remotely attracted to Sombra. Maybe his protracted and forced abstinence was taking a toll on him, or perhaps he was starting to lose his mind - in either case, it was getting harder and harder not to think of his captor in an inappropriate light.
With his heels licking on the polished floor, having taken up a duster and broom, he proceeded to the very heart of the buried fortress. If there was even a slight chance that Sombra was away, out doing whatever scoundrels are wont to do, his time would be more valuable than ever. As he reached the master bedroom, peeked inside, and saw no sign of his host, a wave of relief washed over him.
“Right on time…”
No sooner had the single line been spoken than a hand lightly smacked and squeezed his backside. The sonorous and firm grasp on his behind were so jarring and unexpected that he yelped and scrambled into the room. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he whipped around to face his assailant.
“Somepony’s grumpy today,” Sombra mused. Seeing himself in and closing the door behind himself, he barred the exit and grinned. “Is something bothering -”
“B…buck you, Sombra,” Thorax interrupted. “You know good a…and gosh darn well that I don’t like this!”
Cocking his head, Sombra peaked a brow. “Don’t like what? If it’s the uniform, I’m sure we can discuss alternatives.”
Thorax clenched and unclenched his fists while looked Sombra up and down. With broad shoulders, a powerful chest, and a physique that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a body builder, the King’s imposing size and impressive build were clearly visible beneath his robe and silken boxers. Momentarily eyeing the towering stud’s nethers, he forced himself to look away.
“Oh I see,” Sombra muttered. Closing the gap between them, he hooked a finger under Thorax’s chin. “My special somepony’s a bit frustrated.”
Shying back, Thorax snorted. “I am not! You know I don’t want to be here or have anything to do with you!”
Sombra dismissively waved a hand. “Come now, there’s no need for such hostilities - besides, we both know that’s not true. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I did catch you rubbing your cage when we -”
“Shut up!” Thorax groused.
With a small shrug, Sombra relented. “Very well. I’ll just quietly sit in the corner and supervise, if it’s all the same to you…”
Thorax pursed his lips and kept quiet while Sombra sauntered to and seated himself in a recliner situated in the corner. Talking back wouldn’t result in anything good, and acts of outright defiance would only result in disaster - on top of that, he couldn’t turn to any of his friends for help. While he hadn’t been threatened directly, it stood to reason that alarting the Princesses about Sombra’s return would put his hive in peril.
Storming to the far end of the chamber, as far away from Sombra as he could, he mutely put himself to task. While his duster flitted over a bookshelf of ancient, likely forbidden tomes, memories he’d tried and failed to forget resurfaced. If he’d been even remotely lucky with romance, getting a lover for himself, maybe - just maybe he’d be a little better off - alas, he’d never been all that fortunate when it came to affairs of passion.
There were only a small handful of stallions who’d ever expressed any interest in them, and his attempts to court them had all ended in disaster. One potential coltfriend had been so reluctant to date a royal that things had fallen apart on their first date, another distrusted him because of his past association with Chrysalis, and a third - well, the third was just tragic; despite being the very definition of a brawny stud, he’d discovered that the pony was a bigger bottom than he was! All in all, no matter what he’d tried, it seemed like he wasn’t going to find somepony who was into him - that was, until Sombra came around.
“Mmmmmm.”
The resonant hum, gravely and soft, prompted him to peek over his shoulder. “What?”
“I think you missed the bottom shelf,” Sombra remarked. Nodding over and glancing to the lower books, he smirked. “Be a dear and get those for me.”
Rolling his eyes, he did as he’d been asked. His skirt, being as painfully short as it was, rode up his upper thighs to reveal the cottony white panties clinging to his tush. He wasn’t opposed to wearing marish clothing - heck, he would have gladly paraded himself around in the stuff for a coltfriend, but doing so for an imperious, unquestionably wicked tyrant left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He could practically feel Sombra undressing him with his eyes, and the sensation was a very, very mixed bag. On one hand, it was revolting to think he’d been reduced to being the personal housekeeper for somepony so cruel - on the other, and much to his chagrin, it was stimulating to be eyed so lecherously. Feeling his colthood twitch, he scrunched his snout.
Had circumstances been different, and Sombra was somepony else, he’d do far, far more than begrudgingly clean the house in revealing attire. One of his deepest, darkest fantasies was to be the live-in homemaker for a loving, preferably beefy husband. The notion of being able to care for a lover, both in an emotional and amorous sense, would be nothing short of heavenly - sadly, with his current predicament and a hive to look after, it appeared as though that would remain a dream forever.
As a hand glided over his rump, a hot breath washed over his ear. “You could try to enjoy yourself…”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “like that’s…”
The feeling of something huge, hot, and decidedly hard prodding butt derailed his thoughts in an instant. He knew without looking what was pressed against him, that Sombra had been inspired by his show, although he wouldn’t - couldn’t bring himself to look. Snarling and rising to his full, unimpressive height, he turned and prodded a finger to the stallion’s chest.
“Seriously, must you?” he harrumphed, fighting tooth and nail not to peer down at the behemoth resting on his hip.
Sombra snorted and crossed his arms. “Must I what?”
“You know good and gosh darn well what I’m talking about, mister,” Thorax tutted. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to find one of your fancolts to do this with?”
“I’d bet my bottom bit that there isn’t a single one of them that could contend with your good looks and absolutely stunning figure - besides,” he purred, “don’t act like you don’t like it…”
As much as Thorax wanted to argue, he kept his lips sealed. Yes, he’d given Sombra hand-jobs and a blowjob or two - sure, he might have gotten slightly excited while having his fingers or lips wrapped around the most impressive stallionhood he’d ever laid eyes on - be that as it may, it wasn’t like he enjoyed being somepony’s plaything! Finding the strength to hold his ground, he unwittingly made a phenomenal blunder - he glanced down.
Sombra’s stallionhood was, in a word, a masterpiece. As long as his forearm and thicker than his wrist, the girthy shaft would have given even the most seasoned size queens a moment for pause. Had he not been a changeling, being able to alter his body at will, there would have been no conceivable way for him to accommodate something so…
“You’re drooling…”
“Huh,” he grunted.
Darn it - not again! This wasn’t the first time he’d lost himself while gazing upon Sombra’s godly tool, and he’d bet his bottom bit that it wouldn’t be the last. It didn’t help matters that the colossal stud lacked the slightest bit of shame, being inclined to strut around in boxers at most, and that his own tastes were very much inclined with the titan - if only on a superficial level.
Collecting himself as quickly as he could, and ignoring the sudden tightness of his cage, he sidled around Sombra. “No I’m - h…hey!”
Sombra snatched him by the arm and prevented him from passing. “Thorax, my sweet, there’s no need to be so coy. If you only accept your feelings, things will be much, much more enjoyable for the both of us…”
“No,” Thorax snapped. Pulling his arm free, he backed away. “I don’t like this and I definitely don’t like you.”
With a fanged smirk splitting his muzzle, Sombra leered down at him. “Prove it…”
“Prove it?” Thorax parroted, askance. “How? How am I supposed to -”
“Pull up your skirt and show off that adorable little bulge of yours,” Sombra instructed. “On the remarkably slim chance that your panties aren’t damp with pre-cum, I’ll let you go and swear on everything I hold dear that you and your people will be spared from my impending reign.”
Thorax wavered - not because he’d been particularly shocked by the proposition, but because he knew he would lose. Weeks upon weeks of being locked in his chastity, unable to get off, had left him extraordinarily pent-up. Twisting in place, he gulped as Sombra leaned toward him.
“That wasn’t a request,” Sombra cooed.
Unwilling though he was, and more turned on than he cared to admit, he lifted his skirt. The cool air against the wetted fabric at his crotch sent a shiver up his spine - one compounded by Sombra’s knowing, amused chuckle. He covered himself as quickly as he could, feeling his face darken with embarrassment, and scowled.
Moving with a speed and grace that belied his hulking size, Sombra stepped in, brought a hand around Thorax’s lower back, and pulled the blushing, bashful changeling to himself. “I was going to spare them anyways, you know…”
“M…my hive?” Thorax sputtered, taken aback by the admission.
“But of course,” Sombra hummed. “Thorax, my sweet little love bug, when are you going to put the pieces together? Have I done a single thing to harm anypony?”
Unwilling to meet the titan’s gaze, Thorax shook his head. “N…no…”
“And have I made mention of subjugating Equestria or the Crystal Empire?” Sombra pressed.
Thorax peeked upward and to Sombra’s face. “No…”
“Then there you have it,” Sombra clucked. Shooting forward and giving Thorax a small peck on the cheek, he beamed. “Any further concerns, my sweet?”
“I…” Thorax faltered and licked his lips. “Then why go through all this? What was - is the point of keeping me here?”
“Thorax, it’s because I’ve turned over a new leaf ~ don’t you see?” Sombra inquired. Lowering his head, he kissed his way up Thorax’s neck. “If I am to rule any part of Equestria, it will be by earning the adoration of the masses.”
Fidgeting and grinding his thighs together, Thorax gnawed his lower lip. While reformed changelings no longer needed to feed on love, they retained a very, very keen sense for affection. Love had become something to relish, like a fine, heady wine, and the amount of the stuff radiating from Sombra was intoxicating.
“A…and what about m…me,” he sputtered as his pucker clenched upon itself.
“As for you,” Sombra continued, having brought his full, pouting lips to within a hair’s breadth of Thorax’s snout, “I thought it would be obvious, I wish to make you my bride.”
Thorax’s heart skipped a beat, a wave of euphoria crashed over him, and a gout of pre-cum gushed from his caged colthood. Creatures of every persuasion were capable of deceit and treachery, yet Sombra’s words rang true - of that, he was absolutely certain. Subconsciously drifting forward, he straddled the giant’s thigh.
“Tell you what,” Sombra whispered, “if my terms are acceptable, why don’t you seal the deal with a kiss…”
For the first time since he’d been captured, the ball was well and thoroughly in Thorax’s court. A wiser stallion would have seized the moment and run away, yet his instincts begged - pleaded at him to yield to his impulses. Standing on his tiptoes and craning his neck upward, he closed his eyes and locked lips with Sombra.
It was at that moment, with a thick, muscular tongue pressing past his lips and into his snout, that an epiphany dawned on him. Everything he’d done with Sombra had been totally and completely voluntary - all of it. He’d put on his chastity and given away the key, he’d willingly played dress up, and he’d fallen to his knees to suck the King’s incredible cock of his own volition. Whether or not he or his hive had ever been in any real danger was a matter of debate - regardless, the revelation warmed the depths of his heart and stoked the flames of his lust.
A twinge of discomfort made him wince and whimper ever so slightly. The infernal cage, grown from some sort of arcane crystal, did its job spectacularly well. With his colthood incapable of going erect, struggling impotently against its confines, his excitement became tinged with dismay and woe.
“Is something the matter?” Sombra softly muttered.
“C…can we take this off n…now?” Thorax whined as he hiked up his skirt and nodded down at his loins.
Pinching the bridge of his snout, Sombra dolefully shook his head. “I’m afraid not, darling, although I could offer you some relief. Lay down on the bed for me.”
Though Thorax was unsure of what he was in for, he obliged Sombra’s request. As he crawled onto the mattress and rolled onto his back, his pulse quickened. Everypony knew that beds were used for one of two things, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon.
“Now remove your panties - yes, just like that,” Sombra snickered. “Such an eager, well-behaved mare you’ve become.”
Thorax would have made a pitiful excuse for a top, even with his metamorphic abilities, yet to be called a mare was utterly electrifying. Lifting and bending his legs, he hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his panties. While it was slightly awkward to show off his chaste package, the thrill of not knowing what was to come was maddening.
Having seated himself at one side of the bed, easily within reach of Thorax’s waist, Sombra beamed. “Spread your legs just a touch for me.”
Swallowing hard, and staring longingly at Sombra’s tremendous, pulsing stallionhood, Thorax splayed and braced his legs. “D…do you - um - w…want me t…to -”
“Ssssssssssh,” Sombra quietly hissed. After briefly sucking on two of his fingers, he lowered his hand between Thorax’s parted, trembling thighs. “Deep breath…”
Thorax gasped as a thick digit touched and sank into his quivering entrance. Sombra’s tenderness, taking his time and being remarkably gentle, was accentuated by his unimaginable technique. As his p-spot was gingerly pressed upon, a bolt of pleasure shot through him.
“Good mares don’t touch themselves unless they're allowed,” Sombra explained. “You are a good mare ~ aren’t you?”
“Uh…uh-huh,” Thorax thoughtlessly replied.
Slipping a second digit into Thorax, Sombra snickered. “That you are…”
Try as he might to hold it back, a hushed moan crept past Thorax’s lips. He’d fingered himself many times before, and allowed a past fling to toy with him in such a way, yet the way Sombra touched him, coupled with the passion charging the air, was in a league all its own. While he bucked his hips and clenching around the girthy digits, his hands wandered up to his chest.
Sombra slowed and giggled. “Now that is too cute. By all means, feel free to pull your top down for me.”
Tugging at his blouse, Thorax unveiled his deliciously flat chest and nipples. As his fingers tweaked and teased the sensitive buds of flesh, adding an entirely new level of pleasure to the experience, his eyelids fluttered. At the rate things were going, as unimaginable as it was, he might get what he’d been craving.
On and on Sombra went, lovingly working his supple bitch-button. He’d heard about stallions who could cum from anal alone, having trained themselves to get off without touching themselves in any other way, although he hadn’t given the stories much credit - that was, until that moment. Skyrocketing towards release, with the breath hitching in his throat and his hole quaking with anticipation, he twisted his nipples.
As quickly as it had all begun, it abruptly ended. The feeling of his pucker grasping at nothing but the cool air was heartrending, but not as heartrending as the sight which awaited him. Peeking up to Sombra’s face, he froze.
“Did I say you could cum?” Sombra huffed.
Looking between Sombra’s displeased expression and his groin, Thorax was at a loss. Pre-cum flowed freely from his cage, tracing over his hip and down to the linens beneath him, while he teetered on the brink. He’d been so close to a climax that he could practically taste it, yet he’d been denied.
Shifting and getting to his feet, Sombra glared expectantly down at him. “Well…?”
“N…no,” Thorax finally conceded.
“Precisely, and that brings me to your next lesson,” Sombra intoned. Shrugging off his robe and wriggling out of his boxers, he put his immaculate form on full display. “A good mare only cums when she’s told…”
Thorax swooned as he peered up at the divine stallion looming over him. Sombra’s body was perfection made manifest, the sort of thing that inspired sculptors and artists, and merely gazing upon it evoked a sense of wonder within him. Remaining still and motionless, he said a mute prayer that their little exchange hadn’t truly ended.
Taking his gargantuan cock in one hand, Sombra languidly stroked himself off. “Do you want it?”
Thorax rolled onto his belly and clambered to his hands and knees. What sort of question was that? Buck yes he wanted it! Motivated by lust and a burning need to pick up where they’d left off, he crawled over to Sombra and was brought to a screeching halt. As he looked at Sombra’s wagging finger, his intentions were thrown into disarray.
“I said, do you want it?” Sombra stoically repeated, keeping his endowment just out of reach.
“Y…yes?” Thorax warily answered.
“Good,” Sombra grunted as he turned and strolled to the foot of the bed, “because I have been dreaming of giving it to you. Legs up.”
Throwing himself onto his back, Thorax slid himself down the mattress and lifted his legs. To Tartarus with it - between discovering Sombra wasn’t as bad as he’d initially assumed, leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet, and being more turned on than - well, ever, his typical demureness was erased.
“So beautiful,” Sombra growled. Taking hold of Thorax’s ankles, he placed one knee on the mattress. “It’s almost a shame that I’m going to ruin you for every other stallion in existence - almost…”
As Sombra inched closer, Thorax’s eyes widened. He’d had no question that the stallion was easily one of, if not the most exquisitely well-hung studs around, yet the sight of the mammoth, obsidian cock that glided over his chastity and coin purse left no room for doubt. Gawking down at the nearly fist-sized cock-head that came to rest over his belly button, he broke into a nervous fit of giggling.
“Don’t believe me?” Sombra quipped. Rolling his hips back and bringing the tip of his length to Thorax’s entrance, he braced his knees. “If that’s the case, I’d be happy to -”
“N…no,” Thorax squeaked. “No, I b…believe you.”
The corners of Sombra’s lips turned up as he prodded Thorax’s hole. “And…?”
“A…and…” Thorax rasped. Summoning every ounce of courage he had, he gave voice to his desires. “And I w…want it…”
Smiling broadly, after placing Thorax’s legs to either side of his waist, Sombra fell to all fours above the little changeling. “There’s my special little mare…”
Thorax opened his mouth to speak, to say something - anything to spur the colossus on, but all he could manage was a startled gasp. The pressure against his pucker mounted, growing so strong as to be troubling, until his entrance yielded. The bloated crown of cock all but sprang into him, crushing his p-spot in the blink of an eye, as a pair of soft, luscious lips closed around his nipple.
In that single moment, a fleeting instant in time, his urge to cum became excruciating. This was where he belonged, beneath a large stallion who appreciated him for who and what he was, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t succumb. Sombra had made it very clear that good mares didn’t climax unless they were allowed, and he was going to do everything in his power to prove himself a worthy mare.
Snapping his legs around Sombra’s waist, he shuddered. Everything about Sombra was magnificent, from his cloying, stallionly musk and dulcet tone to his adonic physique, and there wasn’t a single thing he would have changed about him. As he adjusted to the monolithic intrusion and reeled himself back from the precipice, his passion soared.
Sombra’s tongue wandered upward, over his neck and jaw, to the tip of his snout. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Thorax croaked, his voice cracking.
Just like that, receiving the small blessing, Sombra drove his hips forward. Inch after glorious inch of his shaft disappeared into Thorax’s ass, past his quaking pucker, until his weighty, ripe balls came to rest against the changeling’s rear. He gave a playful thrust once he was hilted, pulled back, and started fucking in earnest.
Thorax’s eyes rolled while he pawed at Sombra’s back. This was so, so much better than he could have ever imagined. The abject fullness, his confines positively brimming with stallionhood, and the sheer enormity of being claimed by somepony so much bigger than himself was overwhelming. He would have cried out in rapture, letting his voice echo throughout the chamber, were it not for one thing - no sooner did he open his muzzle than Sombra kissed him.
It took everything he had not to jizz all over himself, but he was able to manage - if only just. The sheer ecstasy he endured was excruciating, a taste of heaven and Tartarus itself, and it only grew stronger as Sombra gradually hastened his pace. Shifting his head and breaking the kiss, in spite of savoring every sensual second of it, he clenched his jaw.
Sombra brought his muzzle to Thorax’s ear and gave a soft, almost affectionate snort. “Cum…”
The word held a power that Thorax hadn’t known was possible. His back arched, his toes curled, and a loud, marish wail rang from him, as he was brought to the gates of nirvana. Though he couldn’t see it, he could feel the heat of his seed weakly spurting and gushing from his cage. Going limp and virtually lifeless, unable to move, he groaned and mewled while Sombra plowed him like a field in spring.
He truly couldn’t say how long the rutting lasted, although he climaxed no fewer than three more times before it finally came to an end. Giving one final, unstoppable plunge, Sombra roared and met his end. The scalding essence that flowed into him, seeping through his depths and marking him in a way nopony ever had, gave him the strongest orgasm of his relatively short life.
Sombra collapsed atop Thorax and pulled him into an embrace, breathing hard and slick with sweat. “Thank me…”
Unable to speak, Thorax cast a questioning, weary eye at the titan. Were he able to talk, he would have written poems of gratitude - regrettably, the most he could manage was a weak, nearly inaudible rasp. Clearing his throat, he licked his lips.
“Thank me for taming you,” Sombra murmured.
“T…thank you,” Thorax whispered.
As Sombra held him close, a silly little smile crept over his snout. He was certain he’d be sore in the morning, his hole stretched and legs already aching, but it would be worth it - by Celestia, it would be worth it. Feebly kissing Sombra’s neck, he closed his eyes and imagined what the future would hold for him - for them…
