Affectionate Antipathy

“I’m a bit surprised you weren’t more creative,” Sahira commented, having to take nearly three steps for every one of Shaka’s strides.

Peeking down and over at Sahira, Shaka grunted while he lumbered onward. “In what way?”

She shrugged as she kept pace with him. “Given my current state, I would have thought you’d bring me to a schoolyard or something of the sort.”

“A fine idea, although you’ve neglected one key detail - colts don’t typically have an abundance of bits. Whoring you out to adults will be vastly more lucrative,” he tutted. Leading her across the abandoned parking lot and to a small outbuilding, he slowed. “Go and make yourself up.”

“Fine,” she groused. Hopping up and snatching a bag from his hand, she strutted away and gave him the finger. “But I’m not going to like it.”

“Yes you will,” he laughed. “Now be a good filly and listen to daddy.”

Seeing no need to protest, she strutted through the open doorway, around a snaking corridor, and into an open, tiled chamber. The rest stop was like many others throughout Equestria, affording the bare minimum of privacy and prioritizing function over form, although it evoked a sense of nostalgia. As she shifted and meandered to a row of sinks and mirrors situated opposite from a number of bathroom stalls and urinals, the corners of her lips turned up.

The mare in the mirror was familiar, but she hadn’t seen her in a long, long time. Her chest was deliciously flat, lacking any breasts to speak of, and her figure was rail-thin. She could easily pass for a malnourished teenager, somepony who was only barely legal, or even a filly. Turning and twisting her shoulders, she eyed her reflection and snickered.

A neon thong clung to her waist, scarcely covering her underdeveloped marehood and doing nothing to hide her lackluster tush, while a matching top, one that was little more than thin string and two little triangles of fabric, conformed to her foal-like torso. Seeing a mare of her apparent age sauntering around in such revealing attire would surely turn heads and raise questions, yet the swimwear and her adolescent looks weren’t the only things she had going for her. Clad in stilettos that would give most hookers a hard time, fishnet leggings and arm sleeves, and with a crop top that stopped just short of concealing her nonexistent bust, she was the spitting image of a seasoned, underaged whore.

She took a moment to adjust her trampy apparel, ensuring one nipple was slightly exposed, before moving to the sink and opening the bag she’d gotten from Shaka. While she carefully placed various cosmetics beneath the mirror, an odd mixture of irritation and excitement welled within her. Her plans for the day had been thoroughly upended, leading her to her current predicament, and she had nopony to blame but herself.

Her plan had been perfect - or so she’d thought. After procuring her newest outfit, and in so doing made the couture noticeably uncomfortable, she’d slipped off to Shaka’s abode to give him a little surprise. Barging in and having her way with him had been wondrously entertaining, yet it hadn’t quite been enough for her. After trouncing and emasculating him physically, fucking herself on him so brutally that the aches and pains he’d suffer would serve as a reminder for several weeks, he’d earned something less strenuous.

Reversing her age had been easy enough, as had buying the slutty clothes and sneaking into his house, but everything fell apart when she’d shimmied through his bedroom window. Instead of silently mounting him, teasing him, and filming him being toyed with by a filly, he’d turned the tables on her with laughable ease. In her current state, having virtually no strength to speak of, being snatched up and choked by a single, iron-gripped hand had unmade her scheme so quickly that she’d been unable to stop him.

Once he’d taped her muzzle shut and tied her up, preventing her from doing anything other than squirming atop her mattress, he’d given her an offer. Instead of recording and releasing a video that would further damage his reputation and draw attention from the Royal Guard, considering the illicit connotations of such activity, he offered to help her with her little film project. His offer was simple - she would accompany him to a disreputable rest area outside of Fillydelphia, serve any truckers who wanted to blow off some steam, and do so with a smile on her face.

Being sold off to older stallions with dubious hygiene, especially when one had the body of a filly, would have been a terrible fate for nearly anypony, although it was far from the worst thing Shaka could have done with and to her. Seasoned studs needed relief as much as anypony, and those who spent their lives delivering goods from one town to another were often some of the neediest. She had many fond memories involving just that, vanishing in the dead of night from her mother’s abode and returning in the morning with a king’s ransom of bits she’d earned from her questionable services.

“Truck pulling in,” Shaka called from just outside.

Pushing aside her reminiscing, she pouted and anointed herself with a retina-searing shade of lipstick. Providing truckers with some comfort could be rewarding both financially and sexually, yet there was a fly in the metaphorical ointment. Having finished with her cosmetics, applying mascara, eyeliner, and a hint of blush, she stowed the makeup and strutted out into the night.

Shaka turned his head and grinned as she appeared. “You look marvelous.”

“And you look like shit,” she shot back, forcibly injecting contempt into her voice.

Though she told herself not to look at him, her eyes strayed over to his immense figure. Given that there was a non-zero chance that he would co-star in any material they produced, he’d disguised himself to fit his potential role. The tank top he wore struggled to constrain his bulk, slipping above his muscular gut and hugging his vast pecs, while his jeans were so tight that they left nothing to be imagined. He had the spitting image of a dad bod, walking the tightrope of being overweight and muscular, and he was positively mountainous compared to her - in short, he’d inadvertently made himself even more appealing than normal.

“Are…are you wet?” he muttered with a sneer.

“No…” she spat. Seeing him looking at her crotch, she peered downward. She was drenched, her inner thighs glistening with arousal, and her marehood winked so hard that it made her tongue bulge. “M…maybe…”

“Well that should make your job easier,” he laughed while nodding over to a tractor trailer rolling into the lot.

He grinned as he lifted his gaze to the stylized, stylish crest below her navel. He hadn’t just caught her red handed, he’d erased any chance she had of doing anything against him. Her powers were sealed, she wasn’t strong enough to fend off a colt, let alone him, and she wasn’t going to regain her abilities until he so chose - sadly, though he had every right to be proud of himself for apprehending her and thwarting her scheme, his victory was a hollow one.

While he masterfully concealed it, faking mirth and derision at her so-called plight, he was somewhat vexed at her enthusiasm. She’d come with him willingly, hadn’t protested in the slightest, and the ease with which she’d acclimated to being an underage escort was unsettling - as if those weren’t frustrating enough, she seemed rather smitten with his new, offensive look. He’d ruined her plot to tarnish his image and get him into trouble, but she’d stolen the joy from his triumph over her and her subsequent punishment.

Altering course and devising something else to do with her was an option, yet the wind had been taken from his sails. They’d arcanely traveled across Equestria, a prospective customer may be about to present himself, and shedding his disguise would be tiring - accordingly, he was going to stay the course. If nothing else, should they encounter a willing client, he’d walk away with some spending bits.

“What’s the plan?” she hissed.

As he came to his senses, his eyes shot from her to a lumbering figure stepping down from the parked truck’s cab. “I - shit…”

In his haste to demean her, he’d overlooked how he was going to peddle her services. Any stallion who had an ounce of sense, supposing they weren’t blind, would immediately presume he was an undercover officer working a sting operation. With little time to spare, noticing how the driver had spotted them and stopped in his tracks, he growled under his breath.

Grabbing him by one finger, Sahira tugged his arm. “Follow my lead…”

He inherently wanted to pull away from her, yet he begrudgingly acquiesced. Her experience with the world’s oldest profession were well beyond his, since he’d never had to pay anypony or anything for sexual service, and he would have to bow to her expertise if his business venture was to succeed. Walking along after her, he found himself peering down at her back.

She was so small and delicate that it felt surreal. The top of her head, covered in dreadlocks, only came up to his crotch, her limbs were like twigs, and she was so slender that he could nearly wrap his hand around her torso. He’d been charitable enough to imbue her with an enchantment of his own, making her nigh unbreakable, although he could hardly believe how she could handle even an averagely well-hung stallion.

“Over here, by the urinal,” she quietly prompted. Releasing him and stepping back, fiddled with her leggings. “Stupid things...”

Walking into one corner of the room, he studied her. “Problem?”

“Fishnets are always a pain; they tear easily, have a tendency to bunch up, and aren’t comfortable. Might I suggest latex next time,” she hissed.

“Duly noted,” he snorted. “So what are -”

“Pull your pants down and lean back,” she murmured, “and keep your voice down. When that john comes in, if he comes in, he’ll get an eyeful.”

He shrugged and resentfully did as he’d been asked. She knew what she was doing, and he couldn’t find fault with her idea - still, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be able to sit back, pimp her out, and rake in bits while savoring her torment, yet she’d taken charge and was ordering him around. As he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his beefy legs, she sashayed over and slammed a foot next to his thigh.

“Come here often, big guy?” she loudly sensually inquired.

“Of course I don’t, this is…” Going quiet, he mutely cursed. “Every so often, but that’s neither here nor there. What brings a cute little filly to a place like this?”

Clutching herself, she shivered and lowered her leg. “I’m just trying to find some way to warm up tonight, mister. You wouldn’t know how a poor, defenseless filly might be able to do that ~ would you?”

In spite of the cliché act, he genuinely chuckled. “Ah might have an idea or two, little missy, but that’s supposin’ you’re willin’ to earn it?”

When she ground her thighs together and coyly motioned to his right hand, he lifted the camera and leveled it at her. The shot of her through the miniature screen was sinful in the utmost regard, capturing the innocence of her counterfeit youth contrasted against her honeyed words and lecherous garb, and it did something unprecedented - it turned him on. Bucking his hips and wagging his stallionhood at her, he smirked.

He had no love for foal fiddlers, finding them reprehensible in every regard, although understanding that the filly before him was anything but chaste was titillating. Her mind was wholly intact, holding all the prurience it had since he’d met her, and she wasn’t afraid to wield her diminutive body against him. Zooming in on her chest, he hit the record button on the camcorder.

“Well,” he continued, “you gonna earn it.”

Closing the gap between them, she giggled as she lifted his length in both hands and gave his cock-head a kiss. “I can do that…”

His dick wasn’t any bigger than it usually was, yet its size and sheer heft relative to her meager size was awe-inspiring. Twisting and struggling to hold his shaft in one palm, she brought her arm up beside his tool to show Shaka, herself, and any would-be viewers in the future just what she was dealing with. She was already worked up, her pussy gushing merely from the notion of being destroyed in her current state, but actually fondling his massive goods made her go feral with desire.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, peeking up at him with a crazed smile. “You’re huge, mister…”

While she was flexing her theatrical aptitude for him and the camera to an extent, she didn’t have to act hard. Holding something so utterly gargantuan was incredible, she could feel his heartbeat through his shaft, and his scent - gods help her, his scent alone was so powerful that she couldn’t resist it. Reverently lowering his godly stallionhood, she dipped her head and pressed her face to the thick folds of flesh at the base of his length.

Growing up had been a long, grueling, subtle process, and it had changed her in both body and mind. She didn’t recall things smelling or tasting any different when she’d been a filly, but the bouquet that filled her sinuses and lungs with every breath she took compelled her very soul. Bringing her hands under Shaka’s coin purse, she piously fondled his balls as she tongued his musky sheath.

“Good filly,” he approvingly hummed from above. “Get daddy nice and clean…”

Fuck ~ was she cursed or blessed? She’d grown up without a father, being the bastard offspring of some unknown sperm donor whom her mother had claimed, and had unwittingly developed a bit of a complex. Traditionally attractive stallions, those being muscular and statuesque, did have an effect on her, and she found them rather fetching, but slightly overweight, unkempt, patriarchal studs tickled her fancy like few other things could.

“D…daddy,” she sputtered, drooling from both ends.

Shaka caressed the top of her head and gazed down upon her. “Yes, babygirl?”

Instantly losing her train of thought, she stared up and into his big, emerald eyes. The smile he affixed her with could only be described as loving and paternal, the way he rubbed her mane warmed her heart, and his dulcet, loving tone made her knees buckle. He wasn’t her dad, and yet her imagination latched onto a single, infuriatingly provocative concept - he could be her daddy tonight.

She yearned to be his daughter, motivated by some unholy desire that she couldn’t understand. Apart from her damned id and litany of fetishes, there was no magic at play. He’d done nothing to impact her cognition, and she’d gone to great lengths to keep her faculties intact after her metamorphosis, so she had nopony to blame but herself for longing to worship him. French kissing the tip of his length, she smeared her face against his flare.

“Daddy,” she groaned, lapping the sweat from his unwashed dick. “Daddy, I want this so bad.”

To the hells with it - should he question her or hint that she wasn’t putting on an extremely passionate front, she could always lie. Clutching the underside of his cock, she stroked him off and coaxed a mouthful of salty, thick pre-cum into her snout. Though her prepubescent cunt throbbed and ached, begging to be put to use, she ignored it and leveled the entirety of her focus on her enormous daddy.

There was so many things she could do that she didn’t know where to start. Attempting to choke herself on him was an obvious option to start things off, and his tremendous nuts definitely needed some affection, but those only involved two parts of him. Had she a stepladder available, or if he’d sat down, she would lick and rub herself over every divine inch of his body - in fact, that gave her an idea…

She ducked down and squirmed under him, kissing and briefly sniffing his balls as she went. The last time she’d willingly shoved her face in some stallion’s taint was - shit - frankly, she couldn’t recall when she’d done it. Dragging her tongue over the crevice between his coin purse and his pucker, she started when he cleared his throat and stiffened.

“Don’t mind us,” he intoned.

“I - uh - yeah…” an unfamiliar voice warily grumbled.

Only then remembering what she was supposed to be doing, being bait for some unassuming and hopefully horny trucker, she freed herself and looked over her shoulder. The dragon that stood at her back, being egregiously overweight, unkempt, and homely, was nothing short of a fat, ugly bastard. Her disdain from the sight of him and his grease-streaked, careworn t-shirt and smoke-stained cap, wavered when she spied the twitching, prominent bulge at his groin.

The trucker was either smuggling a salami in his pants or was comparably endowed to Shaka. Seeing something behind the imprint of his dick, she did a double take when she realized what she’d spotted. Unless her eyes were deceived, the stud was packing a monstrous pair of cum-tanks to accompany his equally impressive tool.

“She yours?” the dragon rumbled, nodding down to her while peering over at Shaka.

“For now, yeah,” Shaka replied. “Want a turn with her, partner?”

Snickering and shaking his head, the trucker loosened his belt. “How about it, cutie?” he asked her with a broad, welcoming smile. “You want to have some fun with me?”

She gazed at his crotch and dumbly nodded. With two guys, each of which being multiples times her size and presented age, and only one of her, it was easy enough to figure out what was going to happen. Either one of them would split her in half, if not literally than figuratively, and her inner masochist pined to see how much abuse her tiny body could endure.

Spinning and falling on her knees, she crawled over to the reptilian stud. “What’s your name, mister?”

“Just call me Buck,” he mused while flopping his cock up and over the waistband of his underwear.

Irrespective of whether Buck was his actual name or not, he had quite the fine piece of equipment. Unlike a pony’s stallionhood, having the form of a battering ram, the dragon’s length was that of a cruel spear. With a pointed tip, ridged underside, and a knotted, girthy base, the slick, savage cock practically begged to be sucked.

“Uncle Buck,” she tittered, “let me say hello to your big friend here…”

Shaka scrunched his snout as Sahira rose onto her knees and began nursing on the head of Buck’s cock. Everything was going perfectly, yet he found himself displeased - so displeased that he almost forgot about his videographic duties. Idly jacking himself off with his free hand, he walked over to get a better view of the action.

Growling quietly, Buck pulled the brim of his hat downward. “Ain’t gonna post that anywhere ~ are ya?”

“Naw,” Shaka responded, maintaining his southern drawl. “Just felt like makin’ a home movie.”

“Shit - I can appreciate that,” Buck clucked. “Little bitch got a nice muzzle on her, I’ll give her that.”

“She’s well trained,” Shaka noted while keeping the camera on her face.

Buck laughed as he hunched over and closed his hands around her ears. “If that’s the case…”

Inching back, Shaka balked as Buck began ruthlessly rutting her face. Sahira tried to resist, pushing against his thighs with all her might, but her efforts meant nothing in the face of the portly, boorish dragon. Unsure of what to do, other than to keep the film rolling, he ground his teeth together.

She had it coming - actually, she’d earned far worse than a harsh throat swabbing from some tubby dragon, although the sight of her being used so violently struck a nerve with him. She was his rival and plaything, and he was the only creature on the planet who was allowed to mistreat her. As his lust became tempered by anger, his blood gradually boiled.

“Fuckin’ - Nnnf - little slut,” Buck snarled. “Hope you’re playing with that tight little pussy of yours, because I’m fixin’ to wreck the hell out of -”

“Ahem…” Shaka coughed and brought the dragon to a standstill. “I said a turn - meaning you can have her once I’m done with her.”

Staring dead at him, Buck kept his grip on Sahira while half his shaft was sheathed in her snout. “That right?”

“That’s right,” Shaka growled. “Now if you’d be so kind as to wait your turn, I’ll finish up.”

Buck didn’t say a word, but the scorn in his eyes was palpable. “Fine. Hope ya don’t mind if I watch,” he huffed. Taking hold of the back of her skull, he pulled her off his dick and roughly shoved her over to Shaka’s feet. “Don’t take too long, little thing, ol’ Buck’s pent up and hankerin’ to cream that nasty little twat of yours up.”

Pushing herself up, Sahira glared up at Shaka. “Why’d you stop him?”

Shaka leered down at her in disgust. She was mad that he’d stopped Buck, there was no other explanation for it, and now she was having a tantrum and making him look bad. Strolling past her and scooping her up, he turned and rested his back on the wall by the sinks. In light of how he’d intervened and called first dibs on her, and that there was another pair of hands available on the scene, he could give her just what she wanted.

“Hey,” he grunted while holding the camera out to Buck. “Do ya mind?”

“S’long as I can get a copy once you’re done,” Buck grouched. Taking and inspecting the contraption, he snorted. “Ain’t that used to using these things.”

“Just look through the viewfinder,” Shaka explained. Lifting Sahira into the air and turning her upside down, he spun her around to face him. “You want it rough?”

She beamed up at him and nodded. “Yeah…”

Lowering her to his goods, he held her aloft by the thighs. “Then open wide.”

Since there was nothing in the nonexistent rules that said he couldn’t star in the porn being made, and because he wasn’t going to get shown up by some loutish dragon, he had no objections with taking center stage. Feeling Sahira’s lips brush against his flare, he forced her downward. Her gullet constricted around him, she writhed and squirmed in his clutches, and a gout of climactic nectar surged from her upturned marehood as he plunged into her stomach.

It wasn’t especially rare for him to see the results of his size, witnessing the outline of his stallionhood within the abdomen of a mare, but this was the first time he’d watched it happen from oral. Her cute little navel changed from an innie to an outie as his dick rearranged her guts. As much as he’d like to say that she was in agony from such a monumental intrusion, the truth of the matter was that she was more than likely loving every second of her mistreatment.

“Make sure you get this,” he whispered, nodding down to her belly.

“Hot damn - that’s some fucked up shit,” Buck guffawed. “Don’t kill the bitch before I fuck her!”

Shaka bit his tongue while he used her like a fleshlight. Speaking too freely could court a conversation he had no desire to have with Buck - plus Sahira was the sort of crafty mare who could and in all likelihood would use anything he said against him. Should she discover that his covetousness had been at fault for him taking her from the dragon, he’d never hear the end of it.

Gazing at hot spring that was her sex, he bucked into her face while slamming her nose against his swaying balls. It took a special sort of masochist who delighted in being what was in effect tortured, yet she’d already cum once just from getting her throat swabbed. Keeping his shaft buried in her snout, he held her in place until she started to panic and thrash about.

Though her durability was unimaginable, she still had fundamental requirements - chief amongst which being air. Choking her on his dick, he mentally counted the seconds while pulling her legs apart. Letting her pass out would be a mercy she wouldn’t receive, not after all the tribulations she’d put him through, and that was only one trick he had up his sleeve.

He rutted her until she’d climaxed another two times, allowing her to think she was getting the best of him, then slowed and spun her around his stallionhood. “Buck, you want some?”

Stepping out of his pants, Buck eyed her hungrily. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ve heard she loves anal,” Shaka mused. “How’s about you wreck her ass so badly that she’s farting cum for a week.”

Sahira gave a muffled protest around Shaka’s cock-head and attempted to kick her legs. Oh this was going to be fun. She’d commented about having her ass knotted prior to jamming his face in her tush, and now it was time to see if little claim about having a budding fondness for anal was true. Bringing his hands up her sides and under her arms, he lowered her lower half toward Buck.

“One hole’s as good as another,” Buck joked. Taking her by the legs, he stepped between her spindly thighs and wavered. “Mind if the little butt-slut sucks me clean after we’re done?”

Roaring in laughter, Shaka nodded. “Be my guest, I’m sure she’d love to polish you up before you leave.”

Shaka set to rutting her face while Buck eased himself into her behind. He felt her teeth and watched her face contort in discomfort, but she didn’t bite down - she knew better than that. She was acutely aware that the depths of his depravity weren’t far behind her own, and that he could easily make her plight far more unpleasant than it already was.

“Fuck me,” Buck groaned while he crammed his cock in her. “Could’a fooled me that she’s into takin’ it up the ass, because this bitch is tight.”

“She told me she liked it,” Shaka clucked.

Driving every inch of his shaft down her gullet, he felt something rigid bump against the tip of his length. Whatever he’d bumped against hadn’t been there minutes before, and she hadn’t swallowed anything, so the development gave him a moment for pause. As he leaned over and looked at her, stumped as to what was going on, the thing in her guts withdrew when Buck rolled his hips back.

He fiendishly cackled when it dawned on him. He and Buck, as well as their respective endowments, were hulking by any metric, and their cocks had touched within her. What he would have given to see what was happening to her organs and to hear her thoughts. Anypony else would have been dead or hospitalized already, the insertion alone wreaking havoc on them, but she was going to weather every vehement second of being spit-roasted, whether she liked it or not.

Falling into a steady rhythm, he watched as his medial ring popped in and out of her mouth. Things couldn’t have gone better for him, and the best part was that the night was still young. Should fortune smile upon him, Buck would only be the first visitor that they had that evening - better yet was that she’d have to put up with everything until he’d personally bred her cunt. While he basked in the sensation of her vice-like throat around his stallionhood, his imagination ran wild with possibilities.

Sahira screwed her eyes closed as she was stuffed from both ends. Having an arm-sized stallionhood sliding down her gullet wasn’t a problem for her, she’d done it plenty of times with partners in the past, but her ass - her ass was another issue entirely. The incantation that prevented her from prematurely expiring or sustaining serious injury was far from perfect - mostly because it only kept her from slipping from meeting her demise.

Her intestines were crushed and resized, acting as a slippery sleeve for Buck’s colossal cock, while her esophagus was resized. Shaka, that scoundrel, wasn’t as vile as she’d thought - he was worse. The played her vital functions like a maestro, capitalizing on her unwilling gasps and need for air, and he wouldn’t permit her to lose consciousness.

Once again, history had repeated itself. She couldn’t stop Shaka or Buck, she’d be spending more time using the cushioned donut she’d invested in to sit down, and she’d probably be limping about like a wizened crone for a week or better, but she’d be damned if that was going to stop her. Fixating on the mingled pleasure and pain encompassing her existence, she lifted an arm, ran her hand down her side over her hip, and reached for her nethers.

Like lightning, Shaka dropped snatched her elbows and wrenched her arms behind her back. “No you don’t…”

Raw fury coursed through her. Torturing her and making a wizard’s sleeve from her once taut pucker was low, although denying her the right to rub her criminally vacant, all but untouched cunt was just plain mean - cruel even! While she was completely capable of cumming as much as she wanted, she’d have to do so from her ass and snout alone.

In a desperate act, she twisted her torso and pointed to her chest. “H…hlk!”

Shaka eyed her nipple, smiled, and leaned forward. “No…”

He was going to pay for this - if she had to spend eons concocting the perfect vengeance to wreak upon him, claw her way out of the abyss, and drag his soul back to the earthly plane to settle the score, she’d do it gladly. As he pulled back and brought his flare back into her maw, he flexed his groin. Gouts of pre-cum shot and dribbled from her sinuses, clogging her nostrils and further ruining the makeup she’d so painstakingly put on, while she impotently seethed.

“Damn - see, that’s just rude,” Buck mumbled. Still plowing her tush, he slid a hand up and to her marehood. “Gotta be a little forgiving ~ ya know?”

Her eyelids fluttered and her hair stood on end. Buck was a slovenly, oafish creature, that much was obvious, yet he had at least one redeeming quality. The added bit of bliss tipped the scales a hair, just enough to soothe her frazzled nerves and give her what she craved. Arching her back and clenching with all her might, causing her g-spot to be caressed by the thick, draconic dick in her rear, she rocketed toward release.

Shaka’s gut and groin dominated her vision, although she could picture the scene easily enough. Two studs, a dragon and a zebra stallion, double-teaming a poor, innocent filly. Should they be happened upon by anypony, be it a royal guard or somepony with a functioning ethical compass, the exchange surely be brought to an end - however, it was possible that any newcomers would wish to join in the hedonism. Wondering if the trucker was the first of many to sate themselves with her, she came.

Lost in a mental fog of misery and ecstasy, she rocked forward and back between the pair. The tryst’s costs would be high, and that was if Shaka freed her after one night, but that was part of the fun. Would she be required to only serve adults? Was he going to peddle her horny, hormonal colts at a local school? What if he brought her to another kennel? Each novel concept was more enchanting than the last, and they drove her from one orgasm to another.

The climaxes she suffered weren’t the best she’d ever had, yet they fulfilled their purpose by passing the time. Being overpowered and used like a sex-toy was a bit of a double-edged sword - yes, the powerlessness could be tantalizing, although too much of a good thing was rarely enjoyable. Without the ability to speak, move, or even breathe freely, she couldn’t reciprocate her lovers’ passion.

“You close?” Buck asked.

Though Shaka didn’t respond, she felt his stallionhood gradually flaring. They must have been going at it for quite some time, because he wasn’t one to cum quickly - that or he harbored some hidden desire for very young mares. As he and Buck went all out, thrusting so hard that her spine bowed, her toes curled.

It was a photo finish, with the pair climaxing nearly in tandem, and it was disastrous. With her snout and ass plugged, the tsunami of seed rushing into her had nowhere to go. Her stomach gurgled in protest, jizz seeped from her stretched pucker and past her lips, and she felt much, much heavier than she should have.

Shaka unsheathed himself first, hauling his still throbbing stallionhood from her snout to paint her face and upper half, while Buck deposited every drop of his spunk in her ass. Hanging her head and gasping for breath, she gasped. Her formerly flat belly had ballooned to the size of a beach ball, making her appear absurdly pregnant, although the sight of herself was fleeting.

No sooner did she wretch, unable to contain the roiling contents in her bowels, than Buck released her. She crashed to the floor and vomited cum from both ends, coating the tiles and herself in the studs sticky, viscous essence. While her actions were wholly involuntary, they wounded her pride and hindered her enjoyment of what should have been an incredible experience.

Tapping the toe of one boot against her, Buck grimaced. “I think we might’ve overdone it…”

“Nah,” Shaka sighed. “She’s like a roach - masochistic as hell and a glutton for punishment.”

His assertion wasn’t wrong, but it grated on her nerves. With the contents of her depths mostly voided, she pushed herself up on one arm and wiped her snout. There was one thing she wanted to test, a theory that had shone through when she was getting her brains rutted out, and now she had an opportunity to test it.

Getting onto her knees, she crept to and behind Buck. She didn’t have to eat his ass, but choosing him over Shaka would be a fine way to slyly spit in the stallion’s eye. As she came around to his vast, scaled rear and lifted his tail, a series of heavy footfalls drew nearer.

“None of that,” Shaka fumed. Taking a fistful of her dreadlocks, he whipped her around and pressed her muzzle to his crotch. “Me first, then him.”

“Yesh, daddy,” she slurred while mopping his slickened shaft with her tongue.

She’d lost much, from her tattered attire to being able to relish sauntering around with a cum-bloated tummy, although what she’d gained was even more valuable. On some level, Shaka was covetous of her. He wanted to keep her for himself, viewing her as his to devastate, and she was going to put that information to good use.

Tilting her head back, she peered up at him with a grin. Her mirth was not returned, with his face as stoic and unreadable as ever, yet she could virtually see the glint of aggravation in his eyes. While she continued to lick his softening stallionhood, the sound of coins hitting the tiled floor echoed throughout the chamber.

“That enough?” Buck asked, having tossed some bits at Shaka’s feet.

Shaka nodded. “For one round, yes. If you have any friends who are in the area and in need of some relief, I may consider giving you a discount.”

“Soon as the little cock-sucker polishes my junk, I can get a few on the horn,” Buck chuckled. “Hear that, cutie? You’re gonna have plenty of company tonight!”

Closing her eyes, she snickered. It may have been preemptive, and it would be a while until she was able to pull it off, but the foundations for a scheme had been laid. Since Shaka treasured having her all to himself, she’d give him more than he could ever handle…