Retrograde Reparations

by Some Leech

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Non-consensual, Izzy Moonbow, Sad, Sprout, Phyllis Cloverleaf, My Little Pony: A New Generation, Other, Thriller, Porn, Sex, Fetish, Hitch Trailblazer
Length: 16880

After his little stunt in Maretime Bay, Sprout is forced to play nice™ with unicorns, pegasi, and his fellow earth ponies...

Sprout, having to atone for starting a riot and destroying Sunny's home, is not happy - not because he didn't deserve a punishment for his actions, but because being forced to obey anypony and everypony was a bit overboard. Going on a genocidal power-trip and nearly causing a war isn't the worst thing ~ right? Like, yeah, maybe it's bad, but it's hardly worth being forced to do what everypony says whenever they say it! Being sent on a tour of the land, traveling from Bridlewood to Zephyr Heights, Sprout quickly discovers that his penance is far more degrading than he could have ever imagined...

Kinks Include: Futa on Male, Male on Male, Feminization, Oral, Rimming, Anal, Size Difference, Size Theft, Shrinking, Breast Expansion, Transformation, Incest, Degradation, Emasculation, Bullying, Gang-Bangs, Exhibitionism, Multiple Creampies, and Mind Break

Artwork by SlimeWiz (Twitter @wiz_slime)

If you want to help support me, I have a Tip-Jar/Patreon HERE

Published 2024-12-26 00:00:07 UTC
Last updated 2024-12-27 21:43:54 UTC

Chapter 1

Sprout scowled and kept his eyes downward as he did what he’d been doing for the better part of a week - that being haunting the streets of Bridlewood. Did he feel bad about destroying Sunny’s home and nearly causing a war with the unicorns and pegasi? Not particularly, though he’d apologized profusely and feigned regret. Did he consider himself lucky for, as his mother put it, ‘being let off easy’? Tartarus, no! Glancing over as a pair of unicorns passed, he dipped his head.

“What’s wrong, Runt?” one of the horned ponies, a young stallion, asked.

“I’m…” Sprout hissed. A jolt shot through him as he turned to face the stranger. “I’m mad that I’m here and I want to go home.”

“Hah,” the stallion laughed. “So it really is true, you can’t lie or anything!”

“Or disobey,” Sprout spontaneously added, unable to stop himself. “And the name’s Sprout.”

The young unicorn waved back at him as he continued along the path. “Good to know, Runt. Have a good day!”

Grinning with gritted teeth, Sprout waved back. “You too…”

Everypony in Maretime Bay was blind, dumb, or both - actually, they were definitely both. He’d warned everypony for years that unicorns couldn’t be trusted, that they wielded dark magic that could undo the fabric of society, and he’d been right - unfortunately, even he hadn’t been able to understand just how correct he’d been. Hanging his head, he sighed and trotted aimlessly down the earthen street.

Anypony with an ounce of common sense would have known he was going to get punished for what he’d done, although he could never have guessed how bad it would end up being. Instead of doing community service or spending some time in the pokey, the tribunal of earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns who’d been tasked with dealing with him had offered a rather unique sentence for him. His discrimination and ignorance could only be cured if he enriched himself outside of Maretime Bay, being condemned to spend time in both Bridlewood and Zephyr Heights, and they had a very particular way to ensure he behaved himself.

A curse - he called it that because it’s exactly what it was- sure, everypony said it was an enchantment to make him more compliant, compelling him to do whatever was asked of him while being respectful, but that was just a fancy way of saying he was hexed. No matter what anypony said or did to or around him, he had no choice but to smile and act like a cheerful, obedient idiot. He never thought he’d see the day when he viewed all of ponykind with contempt, but darned if he hadn’t been considering it more and more often.

All things considered, things had started decently enough. The residents of Bridlewood had put him up in a little hostel for his two month stay, providing him with the bare essentials to get by, and they’d been decently friendly - if by friendly he meant they hadn’t stoned him to death. Being looked upon with scorn was a daily occurrence, he was routinely asked to take out trash or do other humiliating deeds, and he was the only earth pony in town, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Just as he’d started getting use to the insufferable treatment, some stallion, one whom he still didn’t know the name of, had ordered him to do the unthinkable.

He’d thought the stallion had been joking at first ~ how could he not? Seriously, who the hay asks a perfect stranger to suck them off? Sadly for him, his pride, and his already demeaning view in others’ eyes, it hadn’t been a joke. Like a well-trained whore, he’d knelt down and blown the stud right there on the street.

The experience had been so awful that it had seared itself into his brain, haunting him in his sleep and never being far from his thoughts. He could still taste the sweat on his tongue and smell the musk in his sinuses, despite the inglorious occasion being several days ago, and it hadn’t taken long for all of Bridlewood to hear about it. To put it bluntly, his life had gone straight down the drain.

“Mornin’, Sprout!” a familiar voice chipperly called.

Shaken from his melancholic stupor, he looked up and grimaced. Izzy, the only pony he even remotely knew, made a point to hunt him down and say hello each and every day. He didn’t like her any more than the rest of Bridlewood’s residents - if anything, he held her in contempt for forcing his hoof and making him get in trouble in the first place, but she apparently didn’t hold that against him. Slowing as she approached, he shifted his focus to two unfamiliar mares flanking her.

“Rough morning?” she pouted, coming to a halt before him.

He nodded and weakly shrugged. “Yeah, just like every other morning…”

Reaching out and tenderly patting his shoulder, she beamed. “Well I’ve got some great news for you! Me and the mares here are gonna show you up and…” she trailed off, conspiratorially glanced around herself, and brought her muzzle to his ear. “We’re gonna show you a good time…”

His jaw went slack as she pulled back and waggled her eyebrows at him. “W…what do y…you mean?”

“Follow us and find out stud,” she giggled. Turning and flipping her tail, giving him a fleeting glimpse of her backside, she winked over her shoulder at him. “We’ve been waiting to get some alone time with you…”

As unbelievable as it was, flying in the face of all logic and common sense, her honeyed words and sinful promise left little room for doubt about what was about to happen - not that he could blame them. It was common knowledge that earth ponies were simply better, stronger and superior in every way to the winged and horned savages that acted like their distant kin, so it made sense that their mares would want to sample what a real stud had to offer. Cantering up behind the trio, just far enough from them to get a good view of their backsides, he beamed. Maybe he’d been wrong, maybe things really weren’t as bad as he thought, but there was only one way to find out.

Their trot through town didn’t take them long, no more than a hoofful of minutes, and they were within Izzy’s house before he knew it. As he roughly kicked the door behind him, his eyes swung from one mare to the next. He was familiar with Izzy, sadly, but the other two…

“These are Dreamy and Primrose,” Izzy explained, gesturing to the mare to her right then left. “They’ve been dying to meet you!”

Bowing, he smiled warmly at the pair of unfamiliar unicorns. “Mares…”

“You are so much hotter in person!” Primrose excitedly squeaked.

Nodding in agreement, Dreamy lowered her head and not-so-subtly looked to his nethers. “I just hope he’s as impressive as all the stories have -”

“Ah ah ah,” Izzy tutted. Trotting by her friends, she gently waved for them to follow. “I’m sure we’ll all be finding out soon enough. Come on, Sprout, you’re not going to wait for an engraved invitation ~ are you?”

Sprout nearly stumbled over himself as he rushed up to Izzy’s side. Finally - finally, somepony had seen the light and decided to treat him with the respect he deserved - better still, he was about to check several items off his bucket list! Coming into a large bedroom, he slowed and surveyed his surroundings.

Judging from the eclectic and colorful decorations adorning the chamber, the room had to be Izzy’s. There were any number of things he could have looked at, not the least of which being the three attractive mares who were accompanying him, although there was one thing in particular that caught his eye. Lashed to the four posts at the corners of Izzy’s bed were lengths of leather.

“M…Mister Sprout, sir?” Primrose sheepishly mumbled, drawing his attention. “Is…is it ok if we serve you?”

Shaking his head, Sprout burst into laughter. There wasn’t anything funny about what she’d said, but the absurdity of her question had caught him off guard. Could they serve him? Of course they could serve him! That was what mares were supposed to do for stallions - especially stallions of his caliber!

He could have answered, yet an idea instantly came to mind. Trotting to and onto the mattress, he eased himself down, rolled onto his back, and brought his hooves to each of the four bedposts. While he’d never been particularly interested in bondage, the notion of being tied up and fawned over by a trio of lusty mares, even sorely lacking unicorns, was profoundly compelling.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Izzy chirped. “Prim, Dream, you know what to do!”

The three were upon him in an instant, tittering like naughty schoolfillies while they repositioned him and secured his limbs. It was anypony’s guess as to why they’d moved him, sliding him around so that he was lying supine across the width of the bed, but he was anything but worried about it. As a pillow was gingerly tucked under his head, making him even more comfortable than he already was, he flexed his groin and sent blood surging into his steadily hardening stallionhood.

None of the three had said anything about his package, although he’d caught them stealing glimpses of it while they’d tied him up. Were they in shock? Had they ever seen such a magnificent specimen of a stud? Would they ever be satisfied by unicorns after they’d had their fill of him. Dozens of questions flitted through his lustful mind, until a soft snicker crept to his ear.

“Stars - is that it?” Primrose chuckled.

Smoothly trotting up to the mattress, Izzy reached out and drew a forehoof down from his cock-head to his balls. “Talk about sad. I should have figured he wouldn’t have anything to write home about, but I’ve seen foals with bigger dicks!”

Her observations prompted her friends to cackle maniacally while he started askance at the trio of them. He hoped - prayed they were joking, but it would have been impossible for them to fake laughing so hard they cried or began fighting for breath. The revelation that he’d been duped was crushing, souring his mood and snatching away any promise he’d held for actually enjoying himself, but he was glad it hadn’t been worse.

“Ha ha ha,” he sarcastically grunted. “Let’s all laugh at Sprout again. Seriously, I can’t believe you brought me all the way here for this - like, if you just wanted to pick on me, you could have -”

“We didn’t bring you here to pick on you,” Izzy interrupted, her voice as chipper as ever. “I said we were gonna bring you here to show you a good time, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

His frustration faded ever so slightly as he studied her face. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed. “I don’t break my promises, no matter what! Ok, mares, let’s show him what he’s in for!”

The three of them lined up along one side of the bed, the side closed to his hind legs, and placed their forehooves on the mattress. He’d expected them to put on a little show, displaying their teats and underbellies before they took turns with him, but what he got defied belief.

The view of their bosoms was impeccable, yet he pair their breasts no mind. Swaying from each of the mares’ loins was a strap-on dildo, a perfect simulation of a stallionhood, and the sight confused and repulsed him like nothing ever had - that was until he squinted and looked harder. The toys they were wearing must have been glued on somehow, because he couldn’t see any sign of strings or belts holding them in place.

“They’re real!” Izzy exclaimed. “Ya know, since we got our magic back, a few of us have been trying out all sorts of sorcery!”

Balancing on one foreleg, Dreamy reached down and began stroking herself off. “Sure have! Since we haven’t quite managed to master this spell yet, and because we always end up a little on the larger side -”

“We thought we’d volunteer you to be our test subject!” Izzy interjected, cutting her friend off. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Motioning to Sprout’s rigid prick, Primrose snorted. “At least part of him is excited.”

“Sprout!” Izzy whooped as she adjusted the leather bands holding his hind legs. “Are you looking forward to this?”

“N…no,” he answered honestly.

This didn’t make sense - it didn’t make any sense at all? Being dragged across the bed until his ass was hanging off its side, he balked when Izzy slammed her forehooves to either side of his hips and rested her arcanely-produced endowment over his crotch. He wasn’t a deficient stallion by any measure, his good being only slightly smaller than average, yet the unicorn’s monstrous tool dwarfed his by every metric.

“What’s wrong, Sprout? Tell Izzy that this is what you’ve been dreaming about - that you want to have a bunch of mares bully that little foal-dick of yours,” Primrose purred menacingly.

Extending a foreleg over, Dreamy clutched and squeezed his coin purse in her forehoof. “Say it…”

“Sprout,” Izzy sternly stated, “no matter what happens, you will enjoy yourself ~ got it?”

The bolt of pain wracking him was accentuated by a current of the curse at work. He’d been given an order, one that left no room for misinterpretation, and his fate had been sealed. Trying and failing to will himself to do anything otherwise, he nodded and bashfully grinned at the three.

Giving his nuts a parting slap, one that somehow hurt and felt incredible, Dreamy withdrew and coolly trotted around to the far side of the bed. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I got the perfect thing to get him started. Izzy, get him nice and warmed up while I keep his muzzle busy - Prim, make sure Izzy isn’t too nice to him.”

Sprout twisted his head, trying desperately to keep track of all three of them, but it was no use. He’d known something was off with Izzy from the second he’d first seen her, yet it was shocking to think they were sadistic maniacs. Wincing and writhing in place, he whined when Izzy beat her tremendous cock against his balls.

“Look at that little worm of his,” Primrose mused, intently watching his twitching, softening dick. “I bet he’s never even used it for anything but fucking his hoof.”

Downright bludgeoning his package, Izzy cocked her head. “Is that true, Sprout? Is mama’s boy a virgin?”

“I…I - Mmmph - am…” he stammered.

“Bucking called it!” Primrose guffawed. “You should be happy, foal-dick, we’re gonna punch that v-card of yours and plow every drop of useless cum out of you.”

Inching back, Izzy dragged her length down his crotch and to his taut, virginal pucker. “Can I go first?”

Primrose looked past Sprout’s head and over to Dreamy, scowled, then shook her head. “You get sloppy seconds - trust me, that fat hog of yours will blow his back out even after I’ve pumped a load into him.”

Izzy’s joyful expression wavered as she looked between her friends. “Well what am I supposed to do until then?”

“Foal-dick, jack her off until Prim’s done breeding you,” Dreamy growled.

He couldn’t see Dreamy, but that changed when she jumped onto the bed and over his face. He could have sworn he was going to relive his experience with the stallion from the other day, from the way she’d been talking, although that didn’t was anything but the case. While she stepped over his head and slowly eased herself down, he swallowed hard.

“Oh yeah,” Dreamy groaned contentedly. Bearing her full weight against him, she ground her ass against his snout. “Haven’t bathed in the last day or so, but that’s not a problem ~ is it, shrimp?”

Even if he’d been able to lie and tell her it was a problem, his muffled protest would have been unintelligible. With her velvety pucker winking and pulsing against his lips, he clamped his eyes shut and put his mouth to work. Her musk was so powerful that it stung his sinuses, bitter notes danced over his taste buds, and his face was bathed in her fetid sweat. He despised her, her friends, the discomfort, and his embarrassment, though he hated himself more than anything or anypony else.

The enchantment was like a shackle on his mind, overriding his thoughts and feelings to fulfill the wishes of those around him. He’d been expressly told to enjoy himself, so that’s what he did - it was as simple as that. His stallionhood, though becoming less rigid by the second, oozed pre-cum, his balls ached, and the line between pain and pleasure grew increasingly blurred.

To make matters all the more confounding, the continual laughter and taunting of Izzy and her companions did nothing to aid his impotent rage - on the contrary, it was titillating. Be it from the hex, some psychological coping mechanism, or a combination of the two, being in such an intimate, if not mortifying, predicament with a trio of mares was more arousing than he ever thought it would be. In an act of defiance, acting of their own volition, his hips bucked upward.

The trio of unicorns stopped and fell silent, until Izzy prodded his nearly limp prick with her gargantuan stallionhood. “Mares, you know what that means…”

“Yeah, but I ain’t done yet,” Dreamy protested. “See if you can make him cum by smacking his nuts.”

Though Izzy didn’t reply, her actions spoke volumes. While she battered his balls with her behemoth, something hot and heavy settled against his right forehoof. He’d nearly forgotten that he was to give Primrose a hoof-job, yet the long, weighty length sliding over his upturned frog was a harsh reminder of what was expected of him.

Instinctively moving his foreleg, he blindly stroked the underside of Primrose’s shaft. The trio of bedicked mares were as bad - no, worse than anypony else he’d had the misfortune of meeting in Bridlewood, and they showed no signs of easing up. With his coin purse pummeled, he awkwardly jacked off Primrose while tongue bathing Dreamy’s backside.

The one small silver lining was that nopony from Maretime Bay could or, if he could help it, would know about the disgraceful, frankly bizarre exchange. Like a poetically cursed wish, he was mired in a threesome with a trio of passably attractive mares - no, it wasn’t in a way he would have wanted, but the enchantment throttling his mind ensured he wasn’t in complete misery. All his struggling, his desperate floundering to suppress his mounting bliss, was ultimately for nothing.

He crossed the threshold and went beyond it, passing the point of no return. His tender, beleaguered nuts snuggled up to his groin, a tremor moved up his limbs, and his voice hitched in his throat. Try as he might to hold himself back, a weak, pitiable groan escaped him as his seed spurted onto his abdomen.

The climax that seized him was his capitulation, as sure a sign as any that he had, in body at least, surrendered to the three. His ecstasy was wondrous and terrifying, compounding his dread and bliss in equal measure, but he knew this was only the beginning of his torment. Acting in concert, the trio started to move.

Primrose switched places with Izzy, hastily bringing her stallionhood to his entrance, while Dreamy got to her hooves and hopped off the bed. With their appetizer finished, and their appetites wetted, they readied themselves to get some real satisfaction. With his head tipped back and jaw opened, he was impaled from both ends.

The earthy flavors of ass were replaced by the salty tastes of pre-cum and sweaty, unwashed cock, though he scarcely paid them any mind. Until that moment, his behind had never been touched by anypony other than himself, so the sensation of a thick, meaty stallionhood grinding into him rocked him to his core. Doing his best to stay relaxed, he involuntarily clenched when Dreamy plunged into his gullet.

His throat spasmed, his eyes watered, and he gagged around the mare’s tool, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t fight her. For starters, his curse wouldn’t allow him to resist - secondly and just as prudently, considering how cruel the trio were, he had no doubt that any acts of defiance would make his situation exponentially worse. Taking breaths if and when he could, the smallest sips of air between Dreamy’s thrusts, he remained motionless.

A weight settled on his chest, pinning him down, before something hot blew on his flaccid stallionhood. He’d assumed that Izzy would sit back and spectate while she waited for her turn, or possibly have him give her a hoof-job, yet she seemed more interested in getting an up-close view of the action. Feeling her face rest on his package, he shivered.

“He is kinda cute,” Izzy glibly remarked, in all likelihood referring to his goods.

“Maybe - Huff - if we pretty him up a bit,” Primrose snarled as she gradually increased her pace. “Izz, don’t touch him or anything. I’m gonna see if I can fuck the cum out of him,” she laughed before quickly going silent. “I mean without making him cum.”

Inching forward, Dreamy hilted his muzzle and ground her cum-laden balls against his snout. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Well I’m gonna plow him until he’s shooting blanks,” Izzy asserted. “Since you mares are making me go last, I’m gonna make sure he’s trotting funny for a week.”

“If he’s trotting at all,” Dreamy snorted.

Their chatter devolved into yet more snickering and tittering as they focused on using him. Dreamy was far rougher than the lecherous stallion had been, ravaging his throat without a care in the world, though Primrose was worse still. His pucker was strained to its limits, being drawn out and stuffed in with every plunge, and he felt as though it may break at any second - still, irrespective of his brutal treatment, he rebounded from his orgasm and sailed to a second. It would have taken him the better part of an hour to recover from blowing a load to get off again, ordinarily speaking, yet the sheer magnitude of the sensations overwhelming him was far too much for him to handle.

While he showed no outward signs of it, he could feel himself nearing his limit. A warmth blossomed in his abdomen, his heart thundered in his chest, and his mind drifted into a panicked haze as his lungs fruitlessly heaved. He was the trio’s plaything, their toy for the evening, and they’d been gracious enough to see that they weren’t the only ones having fun.

“Oh my gosh,” Izzy gasped as he came. “Holy cow! That was, like, super fast!”

“What’d ya - Nnnf - expect?” Primrose rumbled. Altering her plunges, she hammered against his p-spot. “Figured working his bitch-button would do the trick.”

Izzy shifted atop him. “Bitch-button?”

“Yeah,” Primrose grunted. “Makes little faggots like this cream themselves - then again, looking at that little button mushroom of his, he might actually be a mare.”

Being likened to a mare added yet another degrading layer to his humiliation, although there was something unique about the remark. A pang of excitement gripped him, cutting through the rapturous moras that overshadowed his thoughts, and backdoor spasmed. Regardless of its exact cause, the demeaning comment moved him in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

Steadily rutting his muzzle, Dreamy popped her medial ring past his lips. It didn’t take him long to figure out she was getting close, feeling her flare in his gullet, but there was nothing he could do to stop her. Giving his face a final, viscous plunge, she buried her length and piped a sweltering load of foal-batter into his stomach.

It was a small mercy that he was on the precipice of blacking out, his oxygen starved brain only barely clinging to the waking world, but he was rocked back to the present when Dreamy dragged her still pulsing length from his snout. The final gouts of her cum painted his face and chest, marking him and making him feel dirtier than ever, as Primrose bellowed out and sheathed herself in his ass.

The sensation of being bred was odd, and he genuinely couldn’t tell if that was a bad thing or not. Heat coursed through his depths, claiming him in a way that no sound stallion ever should be, while jizz spurted and seemed from around her throbbing cock. Primrose pulled out and shot the final ropes of her spunk over his nethers and belly, just as her friend had, until the flow of her virile essence had subsided.

“My turn…”

Sprout’s eyes widened when Izzy took Primrose’s place and brought her monstrous stallionhood to bear. He was lucky that she hadn’t been allowed to despoil him, though accommodating her wasn’t going to be easy. While he was thoroughly loose and lubed, his hole gaped slightly and leaking thick gobbets of cum, it wasn’t going to be easy for her to fit in his newly christened pucker - or so he thought.

In stark contrast to her usual happy-go-lucky demeanor, Izzy was the most barbaric of the three - that or she was particularly excited. Resting his fetlocks on her shoulders, she forced the blunt, battering ram-like tip of her shaft into him. The intrusion was insane, so intense that he brayed out and clutched the bed sheets in a death grip, but it came with one small benefit.

He came as soon as her prodigious cock-head snaked past his abused prostate, and his entire existence was drowned out in raw pleasure. The ecstasy consuming him was breathtaking, so wild that it threatened to shatter his sanity outright, although it was blunted by one simple, immutable fact - she’d only just begun to fuck him. Inch after impossible inch of her length snaked into his bowels, until her ripe, orange-sized nuts came to rest against his rear.

“I’m gonna start now ~ ok?” she glibly stated, heedless or uncaring of his awestruck state.

She didn’t wait for a response, simply giving him a small courtesy before she started to move. Due to the vice-like grip his backdoor had on her tool, he moved along with her. His body shifted forward and back, his eyes rolled wildly, and a continual string of incoherent, decidedly feminine mewling filled the air. It took him a moment to comprehend where the sound was coming from, largely in part because the voice was unfamiliar, but then it hit him, the crushing realization that he was listening to himself.

“She is really getting into it,” Primrose quipped.

Nodding in agreement, Dreamy slapped a forehoof to Sprout’s swaying, nearly emptied nuts. “Once we’re done with her, I think we need to update her wardrobe…”

It dawned on Sprout that they were referring to him, speaking of him as though he was a mare, though he wasn’t upset. The damage he was weathering went beyond the physical, more than just getting fucked and belittled, and the toll it took on his mind was horrifying. While Izzy’s tremendous medial ring ground his prostate to a pulp, the corners of his lips turned up.

Fact and fiction mingled as he slipped deeper and deeper into his depraved thoughts. Was this all some lurid dream, a concoction of his imagination, or was it actually happening - in the end, it made no difference. Hit with wave after wave of unfathomable rapture, he howled while he was plowed like some cheap, common whore.

There was a very good chance his consciousness would have ultimately faded, had Izzy not bellowed out when she eventually peaked. As opposed to Dreamy and Primrose, both of whom had shellacked him with a portion of their cum, the quirky unicorn made sure to deposit every seething drop of her essence as deeply as possible. He wearily lifted his head, drawn by the sound of his gurgling stomach, and froze.

His gut, once flat and featureless, had rounded around the unmistakable imprint of Izzy’s flared stallionhood. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, much less feeling, and it was more than he could bear. Grinning from ear to ear, he snickered then broke into a fit of manic laughter.

“One…two…” Izzy began while she dragged her cock free. “Three!”

With a wet pop, her engorged cock-head pulled clear of his ass. There was no way he could see the damage that he’d sustained, and he was thankful for that, but he knew it couldn’t have been good. His slack, gaped entrance gripped at nothing as it disgorged a torrent of viscous foal-batter down over his dock and to the floor. Even if he could recover, something he was unsure of, the mental scars of what he’d endured would last him a lifetime.

“See,” Primrose griped, motioning to his tush, “that is why you went last.”

Trotting over and between his legs, Dreamy smacked his enfeebled balls. “Now thank us, slut.”

“T…thanks,” he croaked, unable to look any of them in the eye.

“I gotta say, these things are fun!” Izzy cheerfully noted as waggled her hips and set her semi-rigid shaft to swaying beneath herself.

Primrose shrugged and looked Sprout over. “Yeah, but it’d be nice if she had a pair of tits - if she did, all three of us could go at her at once.”

“Yeah but - wait,” Dreamy started. “Sprout, I order you to grow us a pair of teats.”

Scrunching his snout, nonplussed and still reeling from the ordeal, he licked his lips. “H…how?”

“I dunno, use your earth pony magic or something,” Primrose answered, sounding just as uncertain as he felt. “It doesn’t matter really, but…”

The mares went quiet as a viridian glow worked its way down his legs and to his torso. There’d been no control over it, his sorcery acting with a mind of its own, and it granted their wish. As an ache developed in his lower abdomen, above his groin and below his cum-bloated stomach, the flesh around his nipples swelled.

The feeling of spontaneously and unwillingly budding a pair of teats wasn’t unpleasant, though it placed more weight on his already taxed brain. There was only so much anypony could go through before something broke, be it in their head or otherwise - for him, that moment came when Izzy reached out and ran a hoof over his bosoms.

“A…and…” she unsteadily began, “and you’re a mare now! No more stallionly stuff, mister!”

“That’s miss,” Dreamy corrected. Swinging her heavily-lidded gaze to Sprout’s face, she smirked. “Isn’t that right?”

“Y…yes,” he croaked.

“Good, now get out and give me one - no, two laps around Bridlewood. I want everypony to see that blown out cunt of yours,” Primrose giggled.

Easing himself - herself from the bed, Sprout got her hooves beneath her and immediately collapsed. Though her strength was gone, bled from her throughout the ordeal, her legs refused to disobey the command she’d been given. With the cold wind gracing her exposed, seed-slathered depths, ignoring the cooling jizz on her face and chest, she shambled to the exit.

None of the mares followed him, too busy chatting about what they’d just done or conspiring about what they would do in the future, though Izzy called out to Sprout. “See you tomorrow - actually, just come over when you get up! I’ve heard that morning wood thing stallions get can be a real pain in the neck!”

“Ass in or throat in her case, but she’ll figure that out soon enough,” Primrose murmured, making no attempt to conceal her amusement.

Sprout didn’t look back as she drifted through the living room and to the front door. Every part of her hurt in some way or another, merely trotting took herculean effort, and she left a snail trail of jizz in her wake, though she was numb on an existential level. She’d been remade in both body and mind, forced into a role she’d never wanted, and she was sure that the harassment she’d been suffering was only going to get worse from here on out.

Trotting out and closing the door behind herself, she hung her head and peeked down her chest. She was an absolute mess, and she needed to get home before anypony spotted her, but all she could do was dumbly stare at her bloated belly and little breasts hanging from her abdomen. Less than a week had passed since she’d gotten to Bridlewood, and her instincts told her that she’d only scratched the surface of what she’d be put through…

Chapter 2

With her head held low, Sprout skulked through the shadows cast by the Zephyr Heights highrises. Her time in Bridlewood had ended just two days prior, ending her enrichment trip with the unicorn before she went off to live amongst the pegasi, though she was hardly looking forward to it. As she trotted to and into an alleyway, hoping that nopony had seen her, she sighed.

Sucks - the word was fitting in more ways than one when it came to describing the past two months. In hindsight, being temporarily exiled from Maretime Bay hadn’t been that bad - not compared to what it had led to. She’d lost her job, the few friends she had, her mom probably hated her, and everything she’d owned had been taken away, yet those paled in comparison to what had ultimately become of her.

To put it bluntly, everything had gone to Tartarus in a hoof-basket after Izzy, Dreamy, and Primrose had gotten their hooves on her. For all intents and purposes, she’d been pimped out by the trio of sadistic unicorns. Her first visit with the three had been followed by a second, then a third and a fourth, until what felt like the entire town of Bridlewood was taking turns face-fucking her or breeding her ass.

She’d hoped that things would change when she eventually got to Zephyr Heights, going so far as to buy a little cloak to hide her figure, although she hadn’t been that lucky - because of course she hadn’t. Izzy was good buddies with both Pipp and Zipp, the reigning Princess of the pegasi, and they’d been gracious enough to make several posts to their social media accounts informing everypony to treat their newest guest well. The good news was that her accommodations were top-notch, having a penthouse suite in one of the nicer apartment complexes in town - the bad news was that somepony from Bridlewood had spilled the beans about how much of a slut she was.

Easing herself onto an empty apple crate situated beside a dumpster, she winced. Not a single day had passed when she hadn’t stumbled home with at least one creamy load in or on her - heck, just that morning she’d had to suck somepony off before even leaving her building! She reclined slowly, doing her best to ignore her aching backdoor, and peered down at herself.

Along with the pair of breasts she sported, compliments of Izzy and her perverted pals, her figure had gradually changed. Whether or not the daily deposits of jizz were to blame for the subtle curves she’d been developing, making her appear more feminine than ever, she couldn’t say - regardless, the physical transformations didn’t trouble her nearly as much as the psychological ones. In short, after weeks and weeks of continually acting as a cock holster for stallions and dickmares alike, the thought of being rutted was never far from her mind.

Snarling and slamming her hoof against the wall, she cursed. During the day, she risked being plowed at any given moment - at night, when she wasn’t being fucked into somepony’s bed, she was dreaming about being bred. Lecherous dreams haunted her, leading her to wake up to sticky bed sheets on most mornings, and she’d found herself fantasizing about how big and rough random stallions would be while she passed them on the street.

Though she was loath to admit it, there was no denying the facts - a part of her enjoyed the slatternly role that had been thrust upon her, and that piece of her was growing stronger each and every day. Shifting and hunching over, she peeked past her teats and to her loins. Her stallionhood was still there, nestled away in its sheath, though it hadn’t seen use in ages.

“Is that her?” an unfamiliar voice called out, shaking her from her thoughts.

Turning and pulling her cloak around herself, she watched a group of colts come cantering down the backstreet in her direction. Great - bucking wonderful. It had been a while since she’d been teased or picked on in a conventional sense, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be called names or asked a bunch of pointless questions.

The quartet of little pegasi colts slowed as they approached, with one taking the lead and squinting dead at her face. “Are you Sprout?”

She clamped her eyes shut and bit back a groan. “Yeah.”

“See, I told you it’s her!” the colt excitedly proclaimed. “We’ve been looking for you all morning, c’mon!”

Quirking a brow as he took her forehoof, she grimaced. “Where are we going?”

“Oh shoot,” the colt grunted, releasing her foreleg. “I’m Star,” he began, before motioning to each of his friends in turn, “and these are Blaze, Comet, and Crash.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she seethed as she briefly looked them over.

Each of them appeared to be the same age, likely schoolyard buddies, and they were nearly indistinguishable from one another. Star was the biggest, being slightly taller than his companions, while Blaze, Comet, and Crash, being fiery orange, a cool blue, and a dull red respectively, were wholly unremarkable. Nodding to them each in turn, she got up and adjusted her disguise.

Star beamed and offered his hoof. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, you gotta follow us. We heard you were here in town, so we figured we’d bring you back to our clubhouse to play a few games.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped herself. The prospect of dithering away her day with a bunch of colts was far from her idea of a good time, although it afforded her a rare opportunity. Being somewhere private meant she wouldn’t get randomly stopped to slobber on somepony’s dick - not having to slobber on somepony’s dick would give her a small chance to recuperate. Faintly smiling, she took the proffered hoof and nodded.

“Lead the way, kid,” she hummed.

While she was led along by the pint-size gang, through the alleyways and side streets, her mind wandered. There was a good chance that the colts were going to give her a hard way in some form or fashion, but that may not necessarily be the case. Pipp’s post had been oddly endearing, instructing the denizens of Zephyr Heights to welcome her and show her how pegasi could be, so it was entirely possible the young ponies simply wanted to hang out with her.

The trek didn’t take them long, only a hoofful of minutes, although their destination gave her a moment for pause. The clubhouse Star had mentioned was actually an abandoned building, an old shop from the looks of it, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if the place was condemned. With boarded windows and graffiti on its walls, the structure, while dilapidated, was the perfect place for a group of colts to hide away from their parents.

“After you, ma’am,” Star chuckled, holding a metal shutter over the front door open.

She hesitated for only a moment before entering. He hadn’t done or said anything wrong, but there was something about his tone and the way he smiled at her that set her nerves on edge. Shrugging off her concern, and having no choice in obliging him, she slipped inside. As she cautiously trotted through an abandoned storefront, her eyes settled on the other three colts milling around in a corner.

Honestly, for a bunch of colts, they hadn’t done a bad job with the place. Three beat-up bean bag chairs sat opposite a couch that was missing a leg, there was a table covered in trading cards, and they’d even dragged what looked like a mattress into their fortress. She would have killed to have such a refuge when she’d been younger, and seeing what they’d made of the place brought a smile to her face.

“Now that everypony’s here, let’s get down to business,” Star declared as he trotted to and flung himself on one of the cushiony chairs. “Put on a show for us.”

She blinked and went deadpan, hearing the words but thrown off by them. “Excuse me?”

“A show,” Star repeated. “Like a sexy show! Shake your butt, show yourself off, maybe talk dirty to us - you know, all that stuff!”

Settling into one corner of the couch, Blaze nodded excitedly. “We heard earth ponies have great flanks from having to trot around all day!”

‘A…and,” Crash added as he timidly stepped forward and presented a small box of cosmetics, “we e…even got you some makeup ~ see?”

Sprout didn’t know what to say - genuinely didn’t know what to say. On one hoof, she was flattered that a bunch of colts thought she was attractive enough to show herself off in an erotic fashion - on the other, putting on an exhibitionistic display for a group so young was morally and quite possibly legally dubious. Considering her options, she snorted when her forehoof reached out and plucked a tube of lipstick from the case.

Damn it. They hadn’t asked her to do anything, intentionally or unintentionally wording their request in a way that demanded she act, and now she was going to give them what they wanted. As she involuntarily brought the lipstick up to her snout, Star hopped from his seat, trotted over, and clapped his friend on the back of his head.

“She can’t do it here!” Star groused. Taking the cosmetics from Crash, he held them out for Sprout. “There’s a bathroom right down that hall. Go get prettied-up and come back as fast as you can.”

“G…got it,” Sprout stammered.

Turning and trotting away, she quickly discovered the bathroom and made herself ready. It was a darn good thing that a small number of ponies had requested she wear makeup before, either as a joke or because they found her hotter that way, but that hardly helped matters any. With her lips painted azure, a color that clashed violently with her crimson coat, she applied a hint of blush to her cheeks.

She kept to her promise, making herself presentable as quickly as she could, and gave herself a final once over before going out to entertain her hosts. Did she particularly want to do anything with a group of colts? Buck no, not in the slightest, although her pride demanded she not come prancing out looking like a clown.

Her face looked fantastic, decidedly marish and accentuated by the makeup, but the rest of her would tell another story. She had to assume that Star and his buddies had no idea that she was actually a stallion, having heard about her from Pipp or Zipp, and knowing that would change shortly made her feel torn. While they little gang would likely recoil as soon as they saw she was packing heat, destroying any hopes of them doing anything more than looking at her, she’d bet her bottom bit that she’d be made to do something demeaning because of it.

“You done?” one of the colts shouted, causing her to flinch.

“C…coming,” she shakily replied.

Buck it - there was no sense in drawing out the inevitable. Keeping her cloak wrapped around her chest, she trotted out and back into the improvised living room. The colts were more or less where she’d left them, each lounging on a piece of furniture, and they grinned as she trotted into the open.

Waving a forehoof, Star reclined and spread his hind legs. “Hurry up and take that stupid cape off!”

Sauntering into the center of the chamber, Sprout unclasped the button beneath her neck and threw the cloak aside. The hex dominating her could easily make her follow commands - sadly, that’s all it could do. Turning and facing away from the group, she swayed her hips from side to side.

“Wow,” one of the colts breathed. “She really does have a nice booty!”

“Heh - told ya,” another remarked.

Spinning and lowering her chest to the floor, Sprout groaned. “So I hope you…”

The words died in her throat when she looked up. She’d been at it for no more than a minute or so, and it wasn’t like she’d done anything particularly provocative, yet the colts, each and every one, were sporting erections. Even the ones who weren’t as shameless as Star, who was languidly stroking himself off, had clearly enjoyed what she had to offer.

Crash, one of the two occupying the couch, shifted nervously and brought a forehoof to his colthood. “K…keep going, p…please…”

She picked up where she’d left off, gyrating and putting on the best erotic display she could, yet her eyes never strayed from the gang’s packages. While none of them were particularly well-endowed, having equipment fitting for their tender ages, the sight of them getting off to her evoked a curious mix of emotions. Disgusted about what she’d been reduced to, and that she could feel an all too familiar ache growing in her depths, she slowed Blaze hopped from his seat and trotted past her.

“Dude, what are you - oh yeah,” Comet chirped. “I almost forgot about those!”

“Well I sure as heck didn’t,” Blaze snickered. Strolling to the corner and snatching up a book bag, he began rummaging around. “Where the heck are the - here we go!”

Squinting over at him, Sprout was able to make out a number of golden rings in the colt’s hoof. There didn’t appear to be anything remarkable about the hoops of metal, although her gut told her that Blaze hadn’t spontaneously retrieved the things without a darn good reason. As she glanced over to Star, her brow knit.

“It’s nothing to worry about - in fact, I bet you’re gonna love it,” Star coolly stated. Reaching out and taking one of the rings as Blaze trotted by, he slipped the band down his length. “Just watch…”

Her eyes bulged as Star’s colthood, a meager few inches, grew at what she could only describe as an alarming rate. His dick had been comparable to hers in size before the sudden transformation, yet it positively dwarfed her shriveled, disused excuse for a prick after only a couple of seconds. Peeking over at the other colts, and seeing that each of them was suddenly wielding a cock that would put even the most well-hung stallion to shame, she gulped.

“It…it’s so sensitive,” Crash remarked as he clutched and stroked his gigantic endowment with both forehooves.

Her mouth set to watering, her pucker clenched, and her movements became even more disjointed as her mind raced. Since the colts could have easily gotten themselves off without the use of magical, wickedly lewd accessories, there was only one reasonable conclusion that she could come to for them giving themselves absolutely massive tools. They were turned on by her, they’d brought her somewhere away from prying eyes, and each of them was rock hard - which could only mean one thing.

“Staring kinda hard there,” Star noted. Wagging his cock at her, he shot her a wink. “C’mon over and introduce yourself properly - I promise, this bitch-breaker won’t bite…”

Her confusion over how the gang could have obtained enchanted rings that were clearly intended for adult activities was superseded by a profound desire to serve them. Creeping over to Star, she leaned in and brought her snout to the base of his prodigious shaft. Heaven help her - his stallionhood was bigger than one of his legs, the nubile, masculine scent radiating off his nethers was enchanting, and the smug, condescending look on his face made her heart flutter with anticipation. If she’d had any doubt about what their intentions were for him, they were erased when she ran her tongue up the underside of his length.

“Good mare,” he purred. “See, colts, I told you she’d be into it.”

“Whatever,” Blaze groused. “It’s not like she can refuse doing any of this.”

Extending a foreleg, Star grabbed Sprout by the chin and locked eyes with her. “Did I tell you to start slobbing on my dick like a junkie?”

The blood in her veins turned to ice. All he’d told her to do was to come over and introduce herself, a demand that could have been interpreted in any number of ways, yet she’d instinctively started tongue bathing his naughty bits! Gripped with indecision and the revelation that she’d spontaneously gone to suck him off, she yelped when a pair of small hooves pressed against her backside.

“I c…can’t stand it anymore,” Crash blurted while brazenly prizing her buns apart. “I’m g…gonna…”

Star quirked a brow and looked at his friend. “Gonna what?”

“Oh shit!” Comet guffawed, having come over to Crash’s side. “She’s not a she at all!”

Star glared down at her face. “What the hay does that mean?”

“Dude, she’s got a dick!” Blaze gasped as he hunched down and peered at her undercarriage. “It’s pretty dang small, but - Ack!”

Blaze stumbled back, Comet began cackling like an idiot, and Star chuckled as Crash hopped up and mounted her. The runtish colt’s first few thrusts went wide, glancing off her backside and smearing her upper thighs with pre-cum, but he eventually found his mark. As she was filled in an instant, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

While Blaze and Comet found the whole affair funny as hell, howling in laughter, Star was far more composed. Smacking Sprout’s cheek with his cock, he smirked. She was still reeling from the titanic intrusion, the colt’s endowment rivaling the largest she’d ever taken, though that wasn’t enough to keep her from fulfilling her purpose.

It was obvious that she’d been brought to the secluded clubhouse to entertain them, and she was absolutely, positively sure that they would have demanded she serve them if she’d resisted - bearing that in mind, she saw no harm in skipping the formalities and putting herself to work. Bracing her hind legs and steadying herself, she worked her lips around Star’s bloated cock-head. As she softly groaned and closed her eyes, a hoof graced her cheek.

“No,” Star murmured. “Look me in the eye while you’re blowing me…”

Of all the dirty, humiliating, downright wrong things she’d done over the past weeks, this had to take the cake. There she was, getting spit-roasted in a derelict shop by a pair of ponies half her age, and she was loving it. She’d worried that constantly being screwed by stallions would take a toll on her psychologically, a point proven by her dreams and subconscious desires, but this put the matter to bed. Even if her admirers were of a questionable age, getting rutted by anypony was enough to get her worked up.

Crash may have had a monstrous stallionhood, one that was bigger than Izzy’s by the feel of it, yet his inexperience was painfully apparent. His thrusts were frenzied, lacking any consistency and smacking of desperation, as he whimpered and grunted frantically against her. Had he been any smaller than he was, she doubted she would have felt much - mercifully, his zeal and the insane size of his cock made up for his lack of self-restraint.

Star was the polar opposite of his diminutive friend, smiling and casually watching her while she throated him. Working him into her gullet was no easy task, but she couldn’t bring herself to give him anything less than her best - plus his composed demeanor and knowing grin were, frankly, hot enough to spur her on. She had to think that this wasn’t his first rodeo, given that he’d been the one to approach her, how calm he was, and the air of superiority he exuded, although that hardly mattered.

“Heck yeah,” Blaze snickered. “Can’t wait to see how many views this gets.”

Turning her head as far as she could, Sprout glanced over and stiffened. Blaze was laying on his back beside her, leveling a smartphone at the action with one forehoof while jacking himself off with the other. Getting frisky with a bunch of colts was bad, the sort of thing that might just land her in hot water, but understanding that it was being filmed and posted online was enough to send her mind into a tailspin.

Panic, fear, embarrassment, and anger vied for dominance, yet the tumultuous cocktail of negative emotions coalesced into something altogether different. It was like a fuse getting blown, the maelstrom in her head frying her neurons and overwhelming her, and yielded cataclysmic results. Gagging and sputtering around Star’s length, as Crash’s medial ring pummeled her p-spot to a pulp, she shuddered and came.

The climax which gripped her was phenomenal, easily the best she’d had since she’d gotten to Zephyr heights, yet it was eclipsed in an instant when Crash howled and jammed every inch of himself into her. Her ecstasy became blinding as wave after sweltering wave of rich foal-batter crashed into her depths. She tried - mercy, she tried to hold herself upright, but the raw pleasure of being creampied by the colt, coupled with the real possibility that he’d just surrendered his virginity to her, made it nearly impossible for her to stand - nearly.

Reflexively locking her knees, she kept herself upright as she bobbed her head and choked herself on Star’s shaft. As nice as it would have been to relish the steaming load bathing her interior, that simply wasn’t an option. One of her hosts had gotten some relief by breeding her ass, yes, although there were still three to go.

“Easy, cutie, no need to rush,” Star mumbled. Glancing over at the table, which was nothing more than a disused, huge spool of some sort, he smiled. “I got an idea. Stop sucking me off for a sec.”

Once she’d backed away, unsheathing his hulking dick from her gullet, he jumped down and cantered to the table. Seeing as how he, Blaze, and Comet were still positively erect, it was reasonable to assume what was about to happen - nevertheless, the lack of details made her excited and a little nervous. As Star patted the wooden surface, having pulled it to the center of the room, she licked her lips.

“Get up here, on your back, and spread yourself for your fans,” Star instructed.

She’d been moments from presenting herself like a fine, fuckable cut of meat for him anyways, but there was one small problem - well, small in a singular sense. Lowering her hips, she deposited Crash on the floor. The little fella had gotten what he wanted, and now he could rest, watch his friends going at her, and hopefully recuperate enough strength to give her another round.

Getting onto the improvised table, she eased herself down and carefully rolled to her back. The piece of furniture wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but she couldn’t have cared less about that. As she splayed her hind legs and reached past her budding breasts, the trio of colts surrounded her.

“That’s so bucking hot,” Blaze whispered as he panned the camera over her.

Nodding and coming between her outstretched legs, Star wrinkled his nose. “Would be hotter if her tits were bigger. Can you do that for us?”

Sprout cocked her head and peered down at him. “Do what?”

“Make these bigger,” Star clarified while kneading one of her bosoms.

“I…I can, but you have to tell me to do it,” she warily answered.

She wasn’t apprehensive about admitting the small detail - rather, she was a bit enthused. A great many stallions loved to fondle or suck on her teats, and having them played with felt incredible, so the possibility of making them larger was thrilling. She knew her judgment was impeded, hindered by the dopamine and bliss enslaving her higher functions, although she simply didn’t care.

Flashing his teeth, Star stepped back. “Make ‘em big - really big.”

“Bigger than the biggest ones you’ve ever seen,” Blaze added.

“A…and…” Comet stammered. “And milky!”

“Udders,” Star chuckled. “Yeah, I like that. Alright, give yourself the biggest, fattest udders you can.”

Her jaw clenched and back arched as every muscle in her body drew taut. She didn’t know the first thing about how magic worked, but the request seemingly pushed the limits of the hex cast over her. Heat blossomed in her abdomen while her breasts, barely a hoofful each, ballooned outward with catastrophic speed.

The metamorphosis didn’t hurt per se, likely because Izzy had demanded she enjoy herself, although it was wickedly intense. Breaking into a sweat, she went limp and panted as an immense weight settled beneath her belly. She’d done what they wanted, in spite of having no control over it, yet she was in no state to see the full effects.

The room grew still and silent, until the tranquility was shattered when she cried out in rapture. Something - no, somepony had just latched onto her teat and was suckling away for dear life. Shakily lifting her head and leaning to the side, she noticed that Crash had found the strength to get up and start nursing on her. Grappling with the onslaught with the new, unfamiliar sensation of lactating, she quietly whined and fidgeted about.

“Darn,” Star cursed. “I can still see that little coin purse of yours, but it’s whatever. Blaze, gimme the camera and lay down. It’s time to really get this party started.”

The quartet momentarily abandoned her, with Crash being dragged off by Star. She’d fully anticipated getting double-teamed on the table, although it seemed like they had other plans for her. Looking over and to Blaze, who’d trotted to and flung himself onto the shabby mattress, she rolled over and got her hooves beneath her.

Keeping the camera trained on her, Star gestured her toward the makeshift bed. “Go ride him and make a show of it. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the audience ~ would we?”

She couldn’t care less about the spectators at this point, since she’d already been filmed getting fucked by one of the tykes. As she cantered over and straddled Blaze her tail flagged and flicked out of the way. To Tartarus with it - if they wanted her to make a spectacle out of herself, especially now that she had a gargantuan pair of udders, so be it.

Throwing her weight downward, she smoothly impaled herself and gave a loud, guttural groan. Blaze wasn’t much bigger than Crash in the stallionhood department, but that wasn’t saying much. Any one of the colts could have rutted her into a coma, and she’d be disappointed if the four of them didn’t leave her in an incoherent, cum-coated stupor by the time they were spent.

Blaze beamed as he slipped his forehooves behind his head. “Star, she’s way tighter than I thought she’d be. It’s like she was made to milk dick!”

“That’s cause she was, even if she didn’t realize it until recently - late bloomers and all that,” Star mused. “Before you suck off Crash and clean him up, I wanted to ask ~ how’s it feel getting plowed by a bunch of colts?”

“S…so good,” Sprout moaned while she pistoned herself on Comet.

Peeking over and seeing Crash skip to her side, she lowered herself, opened her muzzle, and extended her tongue. As things were, it would have been nearly impossible for her to fuck herself on one colt while blowing another - fortunately for her, her pint-sized studs were happy to pick up the slack. Planting his rear hooves, Blaze grabbed her hips and started jackhammering into her from below.

The taste of foal-batter and her ass on Crash’s dick, the smell of sex clinging to her nostrils, the sensation of her prostate being demolished, and the odd but wondrous feeling of her sensitive breasts wobbling about were all phenomenal, enough to launch her to another climax, and they were magnified by the taboo of who she was fooling around with. She was an adult, feminized or not, yet she was being turned out and a depraved slut by a gang of ponies less than half her age!

Gradually surrendering herself to her bliss, she allowed her body to do most of the work for her. Being regularly treated like a sex-toy was a bit of a double-edged sword; it was demeaning as all get-out, yet it had effectively turned her into a sex machine. Her pucker clenched and relaxed around Blaze’s shaft, her lips and tongue mopped Crash’s dick, and her muted whimpering echoed through the disused shop. She hated what she’d become, and that was something that would likely never go away, but the raw pleasure that came with her role was undeniable.

She clamped her eyes shut and blinked away a tear as she came, painting Blaze’s torso with her watery, impotent essence. Neither of the colts seemed to care about her climax - actually, it seemed to get them even more riled up than then already were. Draped atop one tiny stud while choking on another, she held herself steady and bobbed her head.

Now that the pair had fully taken the reins, she fully savored their ravenous lust. Moments like these were when she secretly felt thankful, having no expectations placed on her other than to be a set of warm, welcoming holes for real stallions, but such thoughts always made her feel guilty. Once her sentence was through, and she returned to Maretime Bay, she’d have to regain her past look and salvage her masculinity ~ right? While she dwelled on what she would do with herself after her time in Zephyr Heights was finished, a pair of what could only be hooves slammed over her hips.

“I don’t think it’ll fit…” Comet grumbled, pressing his cock-head to her stuffed entrance.

“Then make it fit,” Star laughed. “She can handle it ~ can’t you, slut?”

Sprout couldn’t have replied if she’d wanted to - on top of that, she was given no time whatsoever. The pressure on her backdoor mounted, becoming so intense that she doubted she could handle having a second stallionhood crammed into her, until the unthinkable happened. With a wet pop and a stifled, gagged howl, she was double-stuffed.

She thought she’d been through it all, having done things that would make even the most seasoned whore blush, but she’d been wrong - dead wrong. With her snout plowed and ass sheathing a pair of colossal cocks, her mind fractured and a tsunami of bliss overtook her. Thin spunk continually spurted from her pitiful, shriveled stallionhood while the colts all but literally fucked her brains out.

Her existence became a rapturous blur as her grasp of reality waned. Certain details weren’t lost on her, like when Crash mewled and fed her a second load, or when either Blaze or Comet added their seed to the wellspring of spunk in her tush, yet the specifics of what became of her were a mystery. Gasping and bolting upright, she came to on the table.

“Back with us ~ huh?” Star softly inquired.

He was standing between hind legs as he rhythmically slammed his elephantine stallionhood against her balls. If the colts hadn’t picked her up and placed her on the table, she must have been ordered around while in a semi-conscious state - either way, she marveled at herself. Cum slickened her belly, she could feel the stuff cooling on her back, and her stomach was rounded from the amount of spunk flooding her depths, but she wasn’t done just yet.

“I’m kinda tired of looking at these,” Star growled while leering down at her balls. “I think I’m gonna make you get rid of them…”

Sprout breathed a sigh of relief as Star dragged his stallionhood over her package and to her entrance. He must have been trying to scare her - yeah, it was just some dirty talk for the camera, that had to be it. Rolling her head back, she locked her legs around his waist while he sank into her.

After having two monstrous tools buried in her backside, taking Star’s not insignificant shaft was almost laughably easy. Lifting her hips and constricting around his mighty stallionhood, she reached down and pawed at her teats. He was responsible for giving her a mountainous rack, so it was only fair that she play her bust for him - regrettably, he was more interested in her groin than her bosoms.

She wanted to ask him if her balls really bothered him, but she kept her lips sealed and did what she could to please him. Of all the colts in attendance, Star was clearly the most skilled. Each thrust was delivered perfectly, neither coming too fast or too slow, and the angle of his plunges was perfect. Sliding back just a touch, she ensured what was left of her p-spot was smashed.

Of all the things she’d discovered on her journey, her bitch-button was the most profound. She’d never gotten lucky with a mare before, excluding Izzy and her well-endowed companions, although she couldn’t see how being on the giving end of things could compare to getting rutted. The feeling of powerlessness that came from being used like an object was addictive, so incredibly captivating that she’d considered buying herself a dildo for her downtime, and that was something that would haunt her for a lifetime.

Passing the camera over to Blaze, Star brought his forehoof to her crotch. “Yeah, these little marbles gotta go - besides, it’s not like you’re ever gonna need them again. On the count of three, make ‘em disappear. One…two…”

“W…wait,” she rasped, the shred of reason that remained within her imploring her to stop him.

“Three…” he breathed.

His forhoof pressed down with immutable force, crushing her coin purse as her body obeyed his will. There was no pain, not that she could describe it, yet she understood that the act should have been torturous. Wailing so loudly that her voice rang in her ears, she spasmed violently then went still.

To call what she’d experience a climax would have been an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Every nerve in her body went alight, the crippling amount of shame and lust merged into something she couldn’t comprehend, and she was unmade in that moment. What the colts did after she blacked out, her body continuing to obey them while her brain had ceased to function, was a matter of debate, but she awoke what had to be hours later.

Darkness greeted her when her senses returned, the clubhouse was empty, and there was no sign of what had become of Star and his gang. Twisting and falling off the table, she ran a forehoof down her distended belly and between her engorged breasts. As she’d feared, but not to her surprise, the flesh beneath her withered prick was smooth and completely featureless.

Somehow, as if to spite her hubristic idea that things couldn’t get worse for her, fate had shown her the error of her ways. It was far too dark for her to get a good look at herself, but she had some idea of how she must have appeared. With a tits as big as her head, a worn out ass that may never tighten up again, and a lifeless prick that was little more than a flabby clit, her life was over - or was it?

She giggled madly while she cautiously made her way to the exit. Arriving in Zephyr Heights hadn’t been all that different to when she’d gotten to Bridlewood; both cities had taken things away from her, each had changed her, and it was reasonable to assume that she’d go through more changes before being allowed to return home. She stopped by the door leading outside, brought a forehoof back and touched the velvety, and touched the loose ring that she’d once called a backdoor.

It all made sense now. Sprout had been punished, sent off on a journey to atone for his sins, and he’d died because of it - in his place, somepony new had emerged. She was less than a shell of her former self, barely recognizable, but she could change that - not to regain what she’d lost, but to cement what she’d found. As she shakily trotted out and into the cool night air, her thoughts ran wild with possibilities for how she could improve herself and her new purpose in life…

Chapter 3

“H…harder - rut me harder, d…daddy!” Sprout whimpered as she threw her ass back to meet the stud’s thrusts.

She didn’t feel much, even though the stallion was exceptionally well-hung, though she’d become accustomed to that. After two months of constant abuse in Bridlewood, followed by another two months of being continually rutted in Zephyr Heights, she was thoroughly broken in - so much so that anything other than direct commands for her to tighten up simply didn’t work. Her body and the curse controlling it had limits, things they couldn’t achieve, and being double and triple-teamed by studs with colossal, unnatural cocks had destroyed her in more ways than she could possibly imagine.

Her eyelids fluttered with a familiar heat blossomed in her depths. She hadn’t even noticed the stud flaring within her, his oversized tool swelling and growing just a touch larger than it already was, but that was hardly important - what was important was that he’d gotten what he’d wanted, relieving himself by breeding her ass like innumerable stallions before him. As he dismounted and hauled his length free from her, his essence seeped from her entrance.

Steadying himself on a nearby wall, he wiped sweat from his brow. “We’ve gotta do something about this…”

She turned and lowered herself to the ground, fully intent to finish her job. “Right here, sir. Allow me to clean you, please…”

“Not that,” he groused, stepping over and bringing his softening length to her open, awaiting muzzle. “I mean you…”

If he wanted to explain himself, he would - if not, that wasn’t her problem. Closing her eyes and wrapping her lips around him, she mopped his length with her tongue. The taste of her ass mingled with his virile cum and sweat, making her pucker twitch and pleasing her in a way her body struggled to do anymore. It was a bit of a shame that she was as worn out as she was, getting off purely from gratifying her countless suitors, though she’d adapted to the circumstances.

“If we could - I got it!” he exclaimed. Shoving her away, he held up a hoof and leered at her. “Wait right here.”

“Of course, Hitch,” she giggled, batting a hoof and shooting him a wink.

As he hurried down the alleyway and rounded a corner, her lips turned up. Hitch, like everypony else in Maretime Bay, had no idea who she was ~ why would they. For all anypony knew, Sprout was gone, abandoning his hometown in shame after his sentence was completed, and was never coming back. She’d initially been shocked that ponies thought she’d abandon them, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise.

Turning and looking to a window behind the sheriff’s office, the very spot building she’d used to work in, she snickered. Her flowing, golden locks ran down to her knees, her tits were so massive that they nearly dragged on the ground beneath her, and her figure was nearly comical. After all the changes she’d endured, her figure being altered beyond anything even remotely natural, she was nothing more than a voluptuous bimbo.

Every part of her was exaggerated, from her pouting, dick-sucking lips and whipcord waist to her gargantuan udders and expansive, fuckable ass, and she couldn’t have been more pleased with herself - well, most of herself. Turning away from her reflection, she reached back and pawed at her tush. Her pucker, formerly tight and crater-like, was a distended, yawning cavern that could accommodate virtually anything.

Gnawing her lower lip, she caressed the velvety, swollen ring of her entrance. While it hadn’t been ordered of her, her slack cunt was remarkably sensitive. Her assumption was that she’d become hyper-aware of anything in her backside, subconsciously adjusting to just how loose she’d gotten, and she hoped - prayed that was the case. While cumming her brains out from being bred was enough to sustain her, giving her a reason for being, she was cripplingly addicted to being filled.

As she cocked one hind leg, her eyes drifted to her crotch. Where her balls had been, a smooth, featureless patch of fur rested under a shriveled, minuscule mound of flesh. She could barely see what was left of her sheath, the thing having withered to barely a nub, but she was thankful that it was still there. The folds of skin, though barely an eyesore, felt absolutely incredible when her clit got hard.

She couldn’t even try to say she had a dick anymore. Her clit, being a meager inch long while fully erect, wasn’t even large enough to clear her sheath. Most ponies never even notice what remained of her colthood, more than happy to make use of her muzzle or ass to satisfy themselves, but those that did had described it as cute. Personally, she viewed it as a convenient lube dispenser, given how much pre-cum she could produce, and she hoped nopony would take it away from her.

In a perverted way, she liked what she was. Not quite a mare, and anything but a stallion, she was viewed as more of an object than anything. Most ponies simply catcalled her or gave her affectionate nicknames, like sweetheart or slut, and she was perfectly content with that. So long as she was being put to use as somepony’s cock-holster, her life was better than it had ever been.

Shaking her head, she shifted and eyed her bag. One of the first things she’d bought for herself, once she’d finally scrounged up enough bits, was a magical plug that could expand or contract to different sizes. The toy was more of a novelty than anything, something she could milk when she wasn’t getting railed out by somepony, but it served two important purposes - it kept her from leaking cum everywhere, and it gave her something to do when she wasn’t preoccupied.

Interestingly enough, a lot had changed in Maretime Bay in her absence. It wasn’t uncommon to see pegasi or unicorns trotting around, there were a number of new businesses in town, and shows of magic were an everyday occurrence. She wasn’t sure if it was funny or sad; before her odyssey, she would have been furious to see what had become of her town, although she wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

The sound of cantering hooves and shouting drew her attention to the side. Hitch had requested her company in the backstreet behind the station, so he could get a quickie without anypony giving him a hard time for it, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about any town events going on that afternoon. Ponies were running and shouting excitedly, a few pegasi sailed overhead, and it sure sounded like something was going on.

She turned and cautiously trotted to the end of the ally. Though she wasn’t about to disobey Hitch, both because she was curious about what he was up to and because she might be able to coax a second load of foal-batter out of him, that didn’t mean she couldn’t check up on things. Looking towards the commotion, she saw a huge group of ponies gathering by the front gates of the Canterlogic building.

The sight of the factory momentarily derailed Sprouts’ thoughts. Once she’d returned to Maretime Bay, one of the first things she’d considered doing had been to go and see her mother, Phyllis, yet she’d abstained for two very important reasons. First of all, there was no way in Tartarus her mom would ever accept her for who she as - additionally, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her mom.

It was incredibly strange; before she’d set off to fulfill her punishment, Phyllis had been one of the most important and well-respected ponies in town - now, just a few short months later, nopony spoke of her or even mentioned her. Though she was slightly worried about her mom, she was sure everything was alright - she hoped. Shifting and cantering back to her hoof bag, she quickly freshened up and returned to the alleyway’s entrance.

“Where’d you - there you are,” Hitch called, coming up behind her. “Follow me.”

Sprout hesitated. Something wasn’t quite right, Hitch seemed a little too happy to see her, and the throng of ponies, both residents and visitors alike, was getting bigger by the minute. With a small, reluctant nod, she slipped her purse over her shoulder and trotted out to the sheriff’s side.

Smirking over at her, Hitch led her to the town square. “I think you’re gonna like this,” he smugly noted. Stepping away from her, he lifted a hoof and filled his lungs. “I’d like to apologize for this unplanned get-together, but it’s a very - and I mean very special night!”

The crowd backed away from the pair, giving them both plenty of space while a grinding, ominous noise drew nearer and nearer. Sprout quirked a brow, looked to the side, and pursed her lips in consternation. A team of ponies were dragging what appeared to be one of the old, unicorn traps down the street and toward the plaza, although the container was way bigger than any she’d ever seen before.

“I know I don’t need to remind everypony about a certain - Ahem - unfortunate incident that happened a few months ago ~ right?” Hitch loudly asked. The townsponies muttered and nodded, recalling the disastrous event that had nearly caused a civil war between the earth ponies, unicorn, and pegasi. “Heh - yeah, it was pretty rough, but it all worked out for the best! Without that little kerfuffle, we couldn’t have so many new friends!”

The dark murmuring shifted, growing louder as it took on a markedly more chipper, uplifting tone. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade - when a genocidal pony goes mad with power, look at the bright side. While Sprout was anything but proud of what she’d done, she took some solace that everything had worked out for the best - both for her and everypony at large.

“Settle down, settle down,” Hitch tutted, calming the masses while waving a hoof. “Now there was a pony - actually two ponies in particular who had a part to play in that mess.”

Curses and grumbling cut through the throng’s mirth, making Sprout’s blood run cold. She had no way to tell what Hitch was doing or why he was doing it, although the direction his speech was going, coupled with the cube-like cage which had been hauled to just a few dozen feet away, gave her a bad feeling. Fidgeting uncomfortably, she kept her eyes on the ground while trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

Trotting around her, Hitch ran a forehoof under her chin and lifted her head. “I think I can speak for everypony here when I say that Sprout here has learned her lesson.”

The words struck Sprout like a gong. She’d assumed nopony had realized who she was, mostly because nopony had used her name when speaking to her, yet the laughter and jeers from the amassed ponies spoke to the contrary. Was this all some sort of sick joke? Had they known that the buxom, whorish newcomer to town was actually Sprout? Why was Hitch doing this now? Completely at a loss for words, she stared at the sheriff’s face.

Hitch removed his hoof, grinned at her, then turned his attention back to the crowd. “His - excuse me - her little friendship lessons did the trick better than anypony could have imagined - unfortunately, the same can’t be said for her mom…”

“Mom?” Sprout croaked as she reflexively glanced at the massive container.

“Yeah, Phyllis was kind enough to volunteer as a test subject for a lot of the magitech items and accessories we’ve all come to love, but those prototypes - oh jeez,” Hitch anxiously laughed. “Those things really did a number on her. Don’t be too worried though; as it turns out, I think Sprout here will be just the thing to keep his Mommy preoccupied,” he continued. Looking to a pony idling beside the giant, steely box, he nodded. “Stand back, everypony.”

All the ponies in attendance, including Hitch, shied away and left Sprout standing in the middle of a huge, vacant circle. With the flick of his hoof, the pony by the jumbo-sized unicorn trap flipped a lever and dashed away. Sirens blared and strobes flashed as one wall of the reinforced box swung downward and slammed onto the street.

Sprout squinted, narrowing her eyes at the hulking figure that stumbled out before her, then gasped. Phyllis, she was looking at Phyllis, though she looked nothing like she once had. Standing a full head and shoulders taller than the tallest pony in attendance, with wild eyes and an unkempt mane, the thing that was her mother trotted closer.

“Mommy?” Sprout repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s me, Mommy, don’t you remem…”

She choked on her words, unable to speak, as her eyes were drawn to a monolithic slab dragging along the ground under Phyllis. When the realization of what she was seeing hit her, she stumbled back and held a hoof to her muzzle. Her mom, formerly well-kept and quite attractive for her age, was now a monstrous, musclebound, she-stud.

“Present yourself for her, Sprout!” Hitch guffawed. “After all the breeding mounts she’s broken, I’m sure she’s ready to actually rut somepony.”

The hex flared to life, forcing Sprout to move without a conscious thought. Wheeling around and pressing her chest to the paving stones beneath her, she arched her back, flagged her tail, and braced her hind legs. There was so much she wanted to ask, like what had happened to Phyllis and if Hitch’s remark was a joke, yet all she could do was stare over her shoulder in mute, horrified shock.

She hoped - prayed she was wrong, but it sure as heck looked like her mom didn’t have the slightest idea who she was. Lumbering over and dipping her head, Phyllis snorted and sniffed her upturned ass like an animal! With her mind running rampant, desperately attempting to figure out what the hay had happened to her mother, a gout of hot air was snorted over her tush.

The bizarre and unsettling circumstances were made all the more disquieting by the audience that had gathered. Now that the cat was officially out of the bag, with everypony dropping the act of pretending not to know who the newcomer to town really was, ponies snickered and openly speculated about what was going to happen - heck, a few ponies were even making bets! Clearing her throat, Sprout summoned her courage.

“M…mommy - I mean, mom,” she shakily began, drawing Phyllis’ eye to her face. “It’s me, Sproooooooh buck!”

With no warning whatsoever, Phyllis shot forward, gently closed her jaws over Sprout’s pelvis, and drove her tongue into her former son’s behind. She’d been fucked by dicks smaller than the immense, writhing muscle worming through her depths! As her entire lower half was lifted from the ground, leaving her pawing at the street with her forehooves, the crowd gasped and stepped back.

Sprout’s heart skipped a beat, she openly mewled, and her breasts showered the road with milk while she was overcome with pleasure. The situation was so wrong as to be revolting, a mother eating her child’s ass in front of at least four dozen ponies, yet the pleasure surging through her was blinding. As much as she wanted her mother to stop, she needed more.

Her mind, much like every facet of her being, had been reforged. The life she led was paid in bliss, rapture so profound that she would skip meals or sleep for it, and the depraved ecstasy her mother delivered was nothing short of immaculate. For all the stallions and dickmares she’d been with, none had been as unimpeded as the mindless goliath eating her out.

“Don’t be so shy, Sprout, tell everypony how much you love your mommy!” Hitch urged, evoking another round of laughter from the throng.

Nearly held upside down in Phyllis’ maw, she peered down her chest and past her wobbling breasts. “I…I…”

Logic warred with lust while she fought to collect herself. She felt incredible, she couldn’t even pretend to deny that, but the fact that she was having her ass devoured by her mother. Squealing in delight, she writhed and clenched around Phyllis’ tongue.

“I love her so much,” she shouted.

Ponies snickered, a few exchanged bits, and a great many recoiled or watched with ravenous eyes, though there was one that had a unique reaction. Relaxing her jaw and pulling her tongue free, Phyllis rose up to her full, staggering height. Sprout weakly flopped to the ground, bouncing off her tits and rolling to her side, as she gazed upward.

The look in Phyllis’ eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said anything, excluding a few small grunts or snorts, but there was no doubt about it. There was an understanding in her gaze, a sliver of awareness that pierced through the warped, animalistic desires that had consumed her, and it made a pit form in Sprout’s stomach.

Scrambling to her hooves, Sprout faced her mother. “M…mom?”

She reached up slowly, making no sudden moves, and touched a forehoof to the monstrous pony’s cheek. It was obvious what Hitch had intended, to make a mockery of both her and her mother, but she could - would change that. Regardless of what sort of experiments Phyllis had been subjected to, she was going to set things right.

“It’s ok,” she whispered. “Let’s get you home and - Nnnph?!”

Phyllis shot forward in a flash, moving with a speed that belied her enormous bulk, and locked lips with her. A small kiss wouldn’t have been an issue - heck, it would have actually been rather sweet, yet what she received was anything but familial affection. Choking around a thick, powerful tongue, she shuddered and gagged.

Despite the inordinate amount of experience she had fellating stallions, the girth of the meaty slab squirming around in her windpipe and tickling her stomach pushed her limits. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, and the only thing she could see were Phyllis’ big, menacing eyes. It was at that moment that she fully grasped what had happened.

Her mother was gone, torn down and remade by heaven knows what sorts of sorcery or enchanted items she’d been exposed to, and there may not be a way to save her. While she sputtered around Phyllis’ tongue, panic washed over her. Such a passionate kiss, one which came directly after being rimmed, could only mean one thing.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Phyllis held her close and fell backward. The transition was disorienting, having her standing one second and draped atop her mother the next, but it was the least of her worries. Cut off from air, she attempted to push herself free - sadly, there was no escape.

She gasped for breath as her mother withdrew and gave a low snarl. The menacing growl was terrifying, yet it didn’t hold a candle to the sensation of something huge and immensely heavy that came to rest on her tush. As she turned and peeked over her shoulder, her fears were realized.

Simply seeing Phyllis’ stallionhood had been enough to believe what Hitch had said about her mom breaking breeding mounts, but feeling the titanic cock against her erased any question on if the sheriff had been serious. With her mouth watering and backdoor drooling in anticipation, she found herself with a decision to make. Anypony with even an ounce of common sense would have fled or shouted for help, yet she was compelled to do the contrary.

“Easy,” she murmured, stroking her mom’s collar. “I…I’ll help…”

Turning atop Phyllis’ torso, she faced the behemoth. Compared to every cock she’d ever laid eyes upon, her mom’s was hooves down the biggest - it wasn’t even a competition. As long as her torso, thicker than her waist, and covered in odd rides, something that was anything but pony-like, the mammoth tool leaked a stream of thick, viscous pre-cum.

Even for a seasoned whore like herself, who’d once fucked herself on a fire hydrant because she’d been told to, she immediately understood that blowing her mother simply wasn’t going to happen - that being said, she had a few tricks up her nonexistent sleeve. Wandering forward and closing her eyes, she hotly made out with Phyllis’ cock-head. While it was regrettable that she couldn’t give her mommy an actual blowjob, not without breaking or dislocating her jaw, she wanted - needed to prove herself.

Phyllis grunted, leaned in, and picked up where she’d left off - by giving Sprout the rimming of a lifetime. In a scandalous and provocative display, the pair focused solely on one another while ignoring the myriad of onlookers. In a poetic way, it was fitting - the two had spent nearly half a year apart, each atoning for their wrongdoings in their own way, and now they were finally able to reconnect.

“Oh Mommy,” Sprout whined, gulping down a mouthful of pre-cum. “I missed you so much…”

As Phyllis snarled into her tush, she shivered and inched closer to a climax. The sheer obscenity of it, of doing something so nasty with her own mother, thrilled her like few things ever had - to the point where it was becoming harder and harder for her to control herself. Fate had smiled on her, giving her a mom who was as desperate for relief as she was, and she’d never been more ready to show her appreciation.

She kept her cool for as long as she could, stroking and nursing on her mother’s stallionhood for all her worth, until she could bear it no longer. The longer the rimming went on, the more difficult it was to concentrate - the more difficult it was to concentrate, the closer she got to cumming - and that wasn’t about to happen. With an incredible exertion of willpower, teetering on the brink of release, she pushed herself up and crawled off Phyllis.

It wasn’t a matter of if she was going to climax, but when and how - with that in mind, there was only one way she would allow herself to blow her pitiful load. Hopping to the ground, she threw her chest to the earth and presented herself once again. She was as ready as she would ever be, everything from the past few months had led to this moment, and she wasn’t going to back down.

Phyllis stirred. Her stallionhood jerked up and smacked against her abdomen, slinging pre-cum over her underbelly and the street, as she got to her hooves. A normal stud, dickmare or otherwise, would have likely taken their time to savored the opportunity to sate themself with a willing, eager mate, but the brutish abomination hadn’t been normal in a long, long time.

Giving a silent scream, Sprout was penetrated in the blink of an eye. Similarly to the opening act, when Phyllis has ravished her rump like it was a fine meal, her mother showed an utter lack of remorse or couth. As she was stepped over and driven against the pavement, virtually crushed from above, a clear, impotent jizz erupted from her clit.

One moment, her ass had been woefully unfilled and graced by the cool afternoon air - the next, it was pushed beyond its not inconsiderable limits. The familiar sense of fullness was phenomenal, intense in a way that words couldn’t properly capture, it was everything she’d dreamed of and then some. Going cross-eyed and slavering on the street, she was rocked back by her mom’s backstroke.

“Yesh,” she slurred. “F…fuck me and - Aaaaaaaaaghn!”

Her encouragement fell on deaf ears as Phyllis began senselessly rutting her. A second climax hit her before the first had concluded, her pendulous udders painted the pavement with milk, and her clit ached within the snug confines of its sheath, yet the sense of fullness dominated her senses entirely. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been genuinely stretched open, since it usually took at least three stallions awkwardly fucking her in tandem to get anywhere close, but she couldn’t let that distract her.

Getting her mom’s rhythm down, she swung her weight back and started to move. The giant balls beating against her groin, the heady aroma of musk, the lingering taste of sweat and pre-cum on her palate, and the feeling of sheathing something so unimaginably massive were all fantastic, and they made all the more wondrous by how zealous Phyllis was. This wasn’t lovemaking, nor would she even consider it sex - this was primal, savage breeding.

Like many times before, Sprout’s imagination grew unchecked. She often fantasized about being claimed by a stallion, made into some cute little homemaker who’s only responsibilities were to produce and raise children for her beloved, but that daydream had become increasingly warped over time. Succumbing to her perverted desires, her thoughts dwelled on a new possibility.

She’d always thought she’d hit bedrock, the furthest reaches of debauchery, yet she’d been mistaken. Her mom was probably the only pony on the planet who could satisfy her at this point, unless she had a harem of studs bearing fifth legs, and she was likely the only pony in the world who could satiate her mom. They were a match made in heaven, opposite sides of the same lecherous coin, and they’d finally found one another’s true meaning.

“M…Mommy!” she wailed. “Breed me, Mommy! G…give me your foals!”

Phyllis rumbled and increased her pace, going all out while nearly plowing Sprout into the street. Some of the ponies gathered around left, having reached a limit of what they could tolerate, although those that stayed enjoyed the spectacle while filming the exchange, stroking themselves off, or both. Whenever somepony drew too close, attempting to get a better angle with their camera or purely from lust, they were warned with a throaty growl.

Driven from one climax to another, feeling her mom’s cock-head glide up and into her rib-cage, Sprout whimpered and cried out every time she came. The sight of her must have been extraordinary, a bimbo femcolt defying reality and having her guts rearranged by a dick which was bigger than some ponies’ entire bodies. Sooner or later, when or if she recuperated from the tryst, she’d be sure to ask around town for a copy of the video.

She lost count of how many orgasms she had after the tenth ~ or was it the eleventh? Ultimately, the number of climaxes she endured were completely meaningless. Grunting with each thrust Phyllis delivered, having the wind forced from her lungs, she clung to reality and staved off oblivion. When her mommy came, she was going to be conscious for her - she was darn sure of that!

While she somehow managed to remain upright, largely because her fat tits were acting as a pair of pillowy braces, the insane fucking sapped her of her strength. Her legs buckled, her chest heaved, and the world around her felt dream-like and unreal. As Phyllis ground to a halt, keeping her stallionhood entombed, her euphoric glee became tainted with dread.

“W…why - Cough,” she croaked. Her lungs hurt in an unfamiliar way, bruised from the inside, yet she drew a breath. “Why’d you stop?”

Grabbing her around the torso, Phyllis reared back and crashed onto the street. The earth shook, townsponies gasped, and the world went quiet. It took Sprout a second to figure out what had just happened, though reality hit her when she found herself fellating her mom’s tongue once again.

Instead of being done doggy, like a mere mongrel, she was being held in something like a reverse cowgirl. It wasn’t uncommon for her to liken herself to a sex-toy, but this was the first time it was all too real. Pulled up and slammed down, she’d become a cock-sleeve for her mother.

Compared to Phyllis’ mindless fucking, every other rutting she’d ever gotten felt downright laughable. She truly was a toy, a plaything for her mom, and that alone drove her mad with desire. Life had changed them both, distorting their forms and minds, but there was a sick beauty in it.

Phyllis’ control was absolute, there was nothing holding her back, and she wielded her power with reckless fury. Every plunge of her cock deeper and harder than the last, making the bulge in Sprout’s belly move up and under her sternum, until the unthinkable happened. The femcolt’s mewling ceased, her eyes went wide, and a river of pre-cum crept out from her muzzle as a thick tip of stallionhood emerged past her lips.

Only then, choking on the cock that was fully buried in her ass, did Sprout’s mind ultimately shatter outright. Dick, sex, fucking - they sustained her, engulfing every facet of her being. If this was supposed to be some punishment for her crimes, it had failed entirely; this was a gift, a blessing from some higher power, and the joy it brought was unimaginable.

On and on Phyllis went, jacking herself off with Sprout’s limp, nearly lifeless form for hours on end. Most of the townsponies left, having gotten off or grown weary of the seemingly endless show, although Hitch remained to bear witness to the sinful union. All good things, no matter how amazing, came to an end, although an ending can oftentimes be a beginning.

Lifting her son-made-daughter just enough to keep her cock-head submerged, Phyllis bellowed and came. An ocean of cum flowed into the femcolt, bloating and distending her form. Nopony save one was fully aware of what was happening, apart from seeing a pony turned into a living, breathing condom for an abominable dickmare, and Sprout relished it.

She knew - knew this was the pivotal moment when she’d become a mother. The vast quantity of Phyllis’ seed, coupled with their mutual desire to bear young, made their dreams manifest. Deep within her, against all odds and the natural order, new life was formed. Collapsing upon her stud, her very mother, she blacked out and embraced oblivion.

“Jeez,” Hitch hissed, cringing at the unseemly display. “Should we feel bad or happy for them?”

“Happy,” Izzy replied, trotting to his side and clapping his shoulder. “I mean, just look at ‘em, they’re made for each other!”

With a resigned smile, Hitch turned and faced the unicorn. “We’re gonna need a bigger enclosure for them…”

Izzy giggled and dismissively batted a hoof. “Nah, they’re fine. There’s a little glade outside Bridlewood that’ll be perfect for them, and I’m sure they won’t be causing anypony any trouble anymore.”

“Yeah,” Hitch sighed. “Alright, I’ll help you get them there in the morning - for now, let’s just let them rest.”

Shifting and guiding him away, Izzy nodded. “I’m sure Sunny, Pipp, and Zipp will be happy to tag along - after all, you know how happy they’ll be that our little plan worked out…”

In a rapturous stupor, Sprout dreamt. So much had happened, so many things she would never in a million years thought were possible, but her journey was far from over. With her mommy’s seed taking root and blossoming, a smile graced her lips. She’d found happiness, she’d found love, and she would soon start a family ~ what more was there to ask for in life?