Carnivores: Dinosaur Fucker

by Liquidistance

Rating: mature
Tags: Random, Violence, Sex, Profanity, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Narcotics, Original Character, Porn, Fetish
Length: 4863

Set in an old mobile game, witness how one mare's dignity succumbs to her primal urges.

Parody and Shitpost; this is my own, unholy Dinosaur Light-Erotica; yes, this is a whole-ass genre.

Inspired by (a homage to?) the mobile game Carnivores: Dinosaur Hunter HD and this god forsaken tomb: Wet Hot Allosaurus Summer, by Lola Faust. It's kinda mid, honestly.

Anyway, my creative journey has to start somewhere, right? — I'm sorry.

Published 2025-01-02 22:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2025-01-02 22:20:00 UTC

Parasaurolo-lust

Author's Note

OC is ambiguous; I only used Starlight for the cover art because I was lazy.

Parasaurolo-lust

In the distant pony-future, in the far reaches of distant pony-space, a solitary vessel cruises towards FIM UV-32; an alien planet not too dissimilar to Equs, minus one important outstanding clause: there are dinosaurs living there!

Although this fact dashed any hope for colonization, ponykind found a way to take advantage of this unprecedented scientific discovery…by building a dinosaur hunting reserve! For rich, pony millionaires with bits to spare.

It was the most lucrative and…liability smart idea.

Today’s visitor, our dinosaur hunter—huntress in this case—planned to use this prestigious hunting reserve as an emotional playground and getaway from her stressful work-life…as the sole heir to an immensely lucrative interstellar sugar tycoon.

She was currently undergoing a very tumultuous time in her youth! She was unsure what Ivy league university she should get her daddy to bribe her into, even worse still, she didn't know if her fraternity friends would choose to come along with her!

As the space vessel neared the glowing, seemingly golden, morning stratosphere, our huntress culled her mind of all the stress she was trying to leave behind. She had come here to blow off some steam! Exercise her right as a pony to molest nature and the natural order for her own sick amusement.

For today’s game, since she was an experienced patron of DinoHunt Corp. our huntress opted to stalk some big, ugly Parasaurolophus (Paras). They were fat, slow targets; they were easy to hit, they never retaliated, and always toppled over lifelessly, in a way our huntress found amusing.

To slay these hulking beasts, our huntress fancied the reliable and outspoken shotgun. Her map of choice, a very manageable coniferous forest named "Delphaeus Hills." It was going to be a walk in the park...

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

Touching down, our huntress moseyed out of the dropship with a cheerful hop. Her hooves met the earthy ground with a soft thump, giving our mare in question that satisfying, outdoorsy euphoria of touching grass for the first time in a long while. She sighed contently, with drowsy eyes facing the golden horizon, a sunrise resplendent with unparalleled natural beauty.

Invigorated by the landscape, our huntress then strapped her supply bag to her back and tightened the zipper of her camo-suit. With her shotgun at the ready, and her DinoRadar booping and beeping, she was ready for a fun and relaxing evening, pumping dinos full of lead.

The dropship took its leave with a low mechanical murmur, hovering upwards then cruising away autonomously. Our huntress didn’t care to watch the vessel soar through the clouds, however, she instead began her stroll; there was a hill she’d climb nearby for a better vantage point of the whole valley, and from there she would decide where to hunt first.

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

Greeting our huntress upon the hill was her first wild encounter; though, not of the Dinosauria variety. Blocking her path and breathing heavily, stood a Dimetrodon. A short, stubby and obese reptile, something like a Komodo dragon who was trying to pass for a Spinosaurus with the large sale on its back.

“Compensating for something?” Remarked our huntress, the Dimetrodon seemingly hissed in offense before scurrying away on its short stubby legs, helplessly dragging its belly and tail along the ground.

Our huntress entertained the opportunity to shoot the lizard before it managed to escape, being rather slow compared to her game, but that felt more and more like a pain the further the lizard fled. Also, the noise would reveal her position, and she had just gotten up the hill to scout for Paras, so it felt like a waste.

Whatever. Anyway, our huntress checked her radar for any signs of movement, and Bingo! There was!

A herd of animals were gathered in the valley, West. She tried to spot them with her eyes and then her binoculars, but the thickets and hills obscured the spot. Normally, our huntress preferred to find game without the aid of radar or even the map, but she wanted to break-in her shotgun and get into the swing of things, fast. So in the direction of game, she went.

In the meantime, there was plenty of scenery to enjoy. It was half the draw of this place: desolate wilderness and the surreal alien wildlife. For example, besides the obvious appeal of seeing prehistoric dinosaurs and reptiles, the plant life and insects had their own charm and wonder.

As our huntress descended the hill she noticed huge ants, beetles, and centipedes scurrying on the ground or around the trunks of trees; as she approached damp bogs and pockets of wetland, there were colorful flowers and the lively chirping of birds; in the short while that she strolled passed the shore, there where giant dragonflies buzzing above the lagoons (probably fishing for beach bugs) and a sole Brontosaurus feasting on kelp and seaweeds. Suffice to say, there was some cool stuff out here; if she had been the type, our huntress could’ve come down just for the sights and sounds, or to take some neat photos...but trophies for the bedroom fancied her better in the end.

Arriving a few meters short of some thickets by the shore, our huntress refocused herself. Beyond the clustering of trees and bushes, hiding in the shade, was a small herd of Paras. Our huntress watched them hungrily with her binoculars, crouched behind a rock. She would have to get closer if she was to land a critical hit…so she picked a target and began to slowly make her way around the group. Feeling like a clever mare, our huntress crawled inside a dead log to get extra close to her prey, and attack form the sides.

The female Para, by the looks of its dull colors and plump form, was now within our huntress’ sights and at ample shooting range. Satisfied with her position inside the log, our huntress quietly unlocked and loaded her shotgun. The animal was clueless, too enthralled with its food for any chance at survival.

Set and happy with the odds, our huntress lined the shot and pulled the trigger. The sound would have been deafening; the spectacle, even more traumatizing. Millions of years of biological evolution were instantly obliterated into a gory pulp, sending a bloody mist over the wilderness as if a beautiful mural had been abruptly vandalized.

Immediately, the other animals groaned, wailed, and fled witnessing one of their own be massacred by an invisible predator. The huntress mercifully permitted their temporary escape, savoring instead how the gory mass finished collapsing to the ground. It tickled something deep in the huntress and she giggled, satisfied.

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

Our huntress walked through the forests and valleys for a while after that. Following the remaining herd wouldn’t have been smart; the ambush would leave them anxious and alert for a long while. So instead, our huntress walked in the opposite direction, blind this time, to see what she could find.

After a few hours and lunch, the sound of animals revealed themselves again. It was another group of Paras, pleasantly feasting on the greens and relaxing in the bogs…not for long, so she thought.

Our huntress used her binoculars for a better vantage point, to find the best angle to ambush and assault the cluster, this time for the fewest potential escapees. The shotgun was great for crippling the beasts but, if she wanted a good looking trophy, she needed to aim a bit more modestly this time around.

Suddenly, a loud noise caught our huntress’ attention.

Among the group of Paras, there was an especially rowdy and jovial individual. A young, lanky male was approaching the larger females, bobbing his head and body energetically, making itself known and making a show of it. After closely observing the scene a little longer, our huntress was shocked and excited by what she saw.

It was horny, and in search of a mate! Would she get to see some dinosaurs horsing around?! Would it be entertaining? Funny!…arousing? Our huntress remained silent and observed, completely enthralled.

The lanky Para continued its display, approaching one female in particular, which was much larger and older than itself. The male beckoned and called her with its crest, promising a good time with provocative dances. The female disagreed, calling abruptly and returning to its food, as to say: “Get lost, kid!”

Not too dissuaded, the male shifted its attention to a different female, using the same charade, but a little more energetically this time.

Our huntress noticed how the male’s leg and torso muscles, flexed with the youthful dances, its large body moving faster than the older Paras. Its crest vibrated loudly, something between a horn and a deep-hum, which beckoned with the same joyful rhythm of a trombone player at a parade. Our huntress was amused, despite the vast differences in physique between these beasts and herself—and their distant levels of sentience, of course—these dumb animals sure flirted with energy and flare, not unlike many outspoken ponies she’d witnessed herself.

The male Para beckoned to the second female, dancing and walking in a circular fashion to better display himself and his virility. However, the male did not have testicles to display, since dinosaurs shared a closer resemblance to birds’ modest, internally stored genitalia. The male, instead flaunted its body, to display lively energy, health, and the shimmer of its scales, the vibrant red of its crest in the sunlight.

The second female, was not impressed.

The male called a final time and turned its back to her, as if sulking. Hilariously, in but a moment the male attempted yet again with another female. What a desperate horndog!

Our huntress was beginning to feel annoyed though; she wanted to see some dinos fucking! Why were these females such prudes? You’re animals, just do it already!

With ever dwindling patience, our huntress remained observant, eager for the third female to give in; surely the male wasn’t ugly, right? Well, she couldn't tell, all the Paras were ugly bastards to her, but why wouldn’t they accept the advances of such an enthusiastic lover? It made no sense to the horny pony.

This time around, the male approached a little more insistently, invading the third Para’s personal space but not assaulting her either. The female was taken aback and growled, though she tried to pay no mind to the male’s advances, instead sitting down to hold her ground.

The male took advantage of this maneuver, and the female’s lessened mobility, to approach from behind and mount her. The female growled again and sung her horn in alarm; she was unable to stand however, as the male leveraged its entire body onto the female and held on with its short arms. The male began to wiggle and sway, probably attempting to enter from behind while he still could.

Our huntress watches, engrossed by the scene. Dino-sex! Finally!!

But the encounter only lasted seconds, for as the male had seemingly begun to hump away upon the female, she shook and knocked him off with her jolting tail, assailing the male loudly with her cry and echoing crest.

The male bellowed, annoyed.

Though, he wasn't the only one who was sexually frustrated. Our perverted observer had also had enough teasing. Deciding this had been a bust, our huntress released her shotgun rounds to count her shots and reload her weapon.

But while counting the shells off the ground, our huntress heard another call and she looked to the Paras again. Another, huge male Para, seemingly the leader of the pack, stood on a distant hill calling the others. Almost in an instant, the three females and all the other Paras followed the call, and eventually left the lanky male and our huntress behind.

Our huntress decided not to reveal herself with a sudden barrage, since the Paras were moving in a predictable direction, however her attention was no longer on the herd. Our huntress, instead watched the defeated, rejected male pace in the opposite direction; now an outcast it seemed.

Hunting the male and taking it out of its virgin misery seemed like the morally correct thing to do…however, our huntress wasn't a moral character…and suddenly, a deviant and depraved compromise came to her perverted mind.

She had been disappointed by this outcome, the scene surprising and erotic! It had gotten her all hot and bothered with no payoff. She wasn’t satisfied knowing these animals fucked and she hadn’t been able to see it! ~~Her daddy had~~ She had paid good money for this private escape, and our huntress was going to make sure she got her bits’ worth in prehistoric excitement.

Our huntress took a moment to radio command for some extra supplies, already devising a plan: by giving the excuse that she wanted to change her hunt into an extended, scenic nighttime stay; to camp outdoors and “really take in the wilderness,” our huntress gathered all she would need for her twisted scheme.

In a few minutes, an autonomous dropship flew over her general position and dropped her a huge, single backpack from above with her requested supplies; it left immediately, preserving her privacy.

Now, our huntress wasn't a frivolous mare, so she asked for only the essentials: a spacious, self-standing tent with temperature-control, state of the art night vision goggles, patented and needlessly expensive tranquilizer needles with an accompanying sniper rifle, and lastly: a lot of rope.

With her gear secured to her back and a tracker set on the lanky male, our huntress put into motion her insidious plan.

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

It was a while later that our huntress again found the lanky male, strolling aimlessly through the wilderness.

Keeping her eye on the prize, our huntress calculated carefully without delaying the first step of the plan too long: knocking the beast out-cold, in a comfy and secluded area. Good thing too, it was starting to get dark.

After about half an hour of tailing him, the male Para walked into a small gulch near some trees. Our huntress took the shot stealthily; her rifle was silenced and low caliber, so in a few seconds after landing the shot like a stealthy mosquito, the dart injected the Para with enough sleep-easy to doze, but not incapacitate it entirely.

Totally buzzed on NyQuil, the Para became docile like a…~~horse~~, like a large dog.

Our huntress tied the helpless Para to the nearby trees, restricting the beast’s movement so it could stand and not much else; wouldn’t want it to crush her, comparably fragile pony frame.

With the Para leashed and restrained, our huntress took the following opportunity to set up camp. In a few moments she had her tent standing, a lantern dimmed to a soft glow, and a sleeping bag ready for later. She walked a perimeter around her campsite and checked on her radar that there were no other animals nearby; there were none, except for the occasional croak of a Pterosaur flying overhead.

Perfect.

Returning to the campsite, with an alarm set if any animals approached (there were no carnivores on this map) our huntress undressed herself of the heavy hunters gear she’d been wearing. She also sprayed some pheromones directly onto her fur, it was a can of scented oils the herbivores fancied—used to attract them towards the hunter for an easy, siren approach hunt.

Once satisfied, prettying herself up for her prehistoric rendezvous, our huntress sat herself before the dozed, lanky Para. She felt electric, anxious in the best possible way. So she looked to the now starry sky, waiting, trying to relax and psych herself for what she was going to do.

Eventually, the aromas stirred the male awake from its nap; it hanged form the tries as if stuck in a huge spider’s nest; it groaned and hummed its crest softly, in a subdued surprise. Our huntress giggled as she watched the beast gauge its surroundings and try to move; the restraining rope only allowed the drunken animal to teeter in place.

The beast didn’t panic or try to budge very much at all; the drugs kept it relaxed, and the pheromones distracted. The lanky male stood still and looked down at its captor, our little huntress who reeked of pheromones.

Excited for a good time, she made her move, approaching the lanky male carefully. Our huntress examined the male; from her view, the male Para seemed young, probably pubescent, and wasn't barely as large or bulky as the adults. This made the size-difference between the species much more manageable, hopefully: comfortable.

Taking a leap of courage, she probed its cloaca. The beast inhaled, responsive to the touch, humming softly. As our huntress continued to caress the animal, it began smelling the mare, enjoying the intoxicating scent.

Our little pervert giggled, the animal was behaving! It was enjoying this, the filthy thing!

Getting a little too comfortable, our huntress became more daring, and really started getting her hoof in there. She had some idea of how dino-dicks probably worked: give them attention and it’ll come out, right?

Just like a stallion.

And surely enough, with the added force of her stimulation, the tip of the Para’s penis began to show. Our huntress tickled it, enticing it to grow out of its sheath. The Para hummed deeply to the pleasant sensations.

Soon enough, more of the Para’s penis emerged, but to our huntress’ surprise, it didn’t have a ‘head’. Instead the penis seemed like a pointed, girthy stalk of flesh. It looked sharp! Would it feel good?

Things got weirder as the penis fully extended. The organ was slick and smooth (no medial ring or bulbous head) and without any veins!? It became thicker at the base than the front and it suddenly curved back into the animal, like some sort of meaty clothing-hook. The penis still pulsated in the mare’s hold, like a regular penis, but it felt alien to think there was blood flow in such a streamlined and vein-less organ.

Unhappy with the mare’s halted affections, the beast began to thrust itself towards her. Restrained by the rope, the penis came to a halt in front of her face. If she hadn’t tied the animal down, it may have poked her. Imagine that! Bludgeoned to death by a Para’s penis!

How the mighty have fallen…

No! Our huntress was an elite member of pony society, she enjoyed privileges only bestowed to the highest echelons of society. If anything, it was her birthright to mold and command the world to her liking, and…if that included: sucking prehistoric dino-dick, it was meant to be! Few could enjoy what she had access to…and they would never know! Ignorance is bliss, as they say to the poor.

Feeling quite cocky, our huntress regained a firm grip on the alien appendage. The animal seemingly cooed and sighed.

Following the beast’s example, our huntress now-too sniffed the air for a heightened sensory experience. The thick tang of musk and dino-spunk reeked the air. This young, lanky male was a potent one, probably at peak-virility!

Though, that didn’t bother our huntress, dino-pony abominations simply weren’t biologically possible, too few chromosomes or something…If anything, the thought of insemination really got her neurons firing; our huntress’ mouth opened in a reflexive breath, her tongue peeking out coyly for a better taste of this alluring, truly forbidden fruit.

Approaching slowly, craning her head down and around the organ, our huntress committed the act of no return…she opened her mouth fully and slowly, gently, began sucking on the Para’s penis. She salivated, savoring the pungent taste. As disgusting as this should have been, as deplorable her actions were, our huntress was unimaginably aroused by the savagery of her debauchery; feasting herself and her primal urges with the phallus of an animal! She could never live this down.

The Para was pleased, humming and cooing with delight as the small mammal satisfied its primal needs. Our huntress doubled down, gradually taking in more and more of the Para’s phallus; around two thirds of it before her maw couldn’t creep any further. So instead, she slid back, dragging her lips and tongue over the sensitive flesh.

Truthfully, the smooth yet lumpy texture of the Para’s meaty lovestick reminded our huntress more of a cucumber than a meat-spear; looks had been deceiving, and the organ didn’t feel as alien, or impossibly smooth as she had initially thought.

The taste was something else though, very raw and…grimy?! It felt so very-dirty; unhygienic, not to mention morally foul. It stirred a poignant, deep feeling of shame and irredeemably in her core. Our huntress had lowered herself from a pony to a low, low vial animal; and the thrill this gave her was an incomparable high. Her affections intensified, stroking the Para’s peen, back and forth.

Eventually, coaxed out of the helpless animal, seminal fluid began leaking from the Para’s dick at a slow and steady pace; the Para was “getting wet” from all the attention, pent-up too, and soon it began wanting more stimulation to chase the promise of sweet release.

With a “moan,” the male para began thrusting itself towards the mare, wanting to accelerate the rhythm of sensual pleasure it was receiving. Taken by surprise, the thrusts knocked our huntress down onto her back, she groaned in pain.

Looking upwards a little pissed, our huntress saw a frustrated Para thrusting the air, desperate for the stimulation stolen from him. The mare sneered, “serves you right, fuckin’ animal! No wonder you’re extinct, ya don’t know how to treat a mare! Ha!!”

The Para, of course, just kept thrusting aimlessly.

However, the new vantage-point gave our huntress an enticing idea. Crawling away from the anguishing Para, our scheming huntress entered her tent and returned with a folded table and her sleeping bag.

She eagerly opened the generously sized table and wrapped her sleeping bag over and around it; fabricating a cushioned-bedding to raise herself on. Sliding the table under the Para, and adjusting the height, she admired her finicky creation: Missionary-With-A-Dino-Bed, or: MWAD-Bitch!

Anyway, our huntress crawled onto the red-neck contraption, spread her legs, and tried embracing the beast. Oh, boy...

Sensing contact with another warm-blooded object, the blue-balled Para began thrusting away, again. It took a few tries and some tugging from our huntress, but eventually there was contact.

To avoid a painful penis impalement, our huntress first got the para’s pricker snug between her legs.

The Para seemed to calm down after a bit of ragged thrusting, since her furry thighs probably didn’t feel as wet and tantalizing as her pussy was right now; but that was actually great! Our huntress would use this opportunity to slowly slide the Para inside herself; but not before basking a little in the soothing, rhythmic massage her thighs were getting.

Our huntress hadn’t realized, but her legs were sore from all the walking and crawling around; and strangely, perplexingly, the warm and firm rubs her “lover” was delivering to her right now, really soothed her nerves. The mare moaned in relaxed sighs, she stretched her body out to leverage the Para’s massaging thrusts towards all the tightened places hiding in her lower body.

She paid attention to how the hot and heavy organ felt, as it bent and pulsed between her legs. How, by pulling it closer, she could feel the familiar sensations of a heartbeat near her own.

Damn.

Our huntress knew this feeling didn’t come from another pony, that her actions tonight were wrong in so many ways, but damn, could a member feel really good!

How seductive and irresistible her lust became...how tantalizing to let a penis roam around and near her pussy without allowing it to touch down; comforting and exhilarating, all in one sensation. Our huntress couldn’t hold back a moan.

As if to remind her that he was still there, the Para murmured again, begging for entry. Our huntress accepted, she pulled herself just a little closer, dipping the Para’s dipper into her honey-pot.

Oh sweet mother of pony!

Our huntress reflexively arched her back and scrunched her face, she let out a powerful moan. The Para was now powerfully massaging her clitoris, like smearing butter on crusty toast; the sweat savor of lovemaking soaking into her cunt, spreading out in ripples throughout her body.

The animal’s meat hadn’t even entered her yet, and the crescendos of pleasure were already unlike anything she’d ever felt before. So much better than hoofing herself! All our huntress could do was hold on tighter, to keep the pleasure cuming.

Her fluids, and the fluids of the beast began mixing, creating a wet, slopping noise that only lubricated the momentum, strengthening the thrusts our huntress received. Damn. That felt good...

Wait. I’m...oh, fuck! I’m gonna cum!! Wait, no! No? No!!

Amazingly, our huntress just-now realized the jeopardy of her position, she was getting railed, raw, in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, by an alien...a dinosaur alien, no less. What exactly had she been thinking!? This was some powerful pre-nut clarity… Either way, it was too late now. In literally the same second, our huntress couldn’t hold back the front, and an orgasmic tsunami washed over her.

Our huntress wailed in jubilation; her eyes rolled back, she lost the ability of coherent thought; her body began moving for her. There was only: orgasm.

The Para, on the other hoof, was quite pleased; for as our huntress shook and vibrated in sexual hysteria, it got a lucky thrust inside the mare’s supple, moist, and boiling hot vagina. Her love-canal pulsated and rippled inwards, inviting the Para deeper within the mare. As our huntress rode-out her orgasm, the Para slid-on-in; our huntress reflexively held on tighter, to secure her mate in place.

The Para’s thrusts continued, with enhanced sensation; the mare’s tight walls pulsated along with her exhilarated heartbeat, caressing and milking the Para’s virile member. The beast, enthralled by the female’s reprise, hastened his thrusts.

For a while the two animals ravaged each other’s bodies, mindlessly following nature’s design; indulging in carnal pleasure, chasing release faster and faster. Their bodies, genitals knocked into each other abrasively in wild, unbridled passion. Potent fluids and guttural sounds spewed from their holes, crudely echoing their mutual satisfaction. If a pony had been there, it would have been hard to watch.

The cacophony of Dino-Pony lovemaking, thankfully, didn’t last forever.

In the midst of a third orgasm, our huntress’ fertile body finally managed to drive the Para over the edge. The young beast, trembled and tensed as it fulfilled its biological duty. Collapsing onto the mare (but held up by the ropes) the male gave it’s final few thrusts as its own orgasm pumped his dino-seed deep into our faint, panting huntress.

Our huntress felt the organ throb, flex, and burst; flooding her delicate mare-parts with vile animal semen, her dignity forever tainted by this beast. She was devastated, sexually-devastated; this had been the best fuck she had ever gotten(!), and now she had to live her life, knowing no-stallion could fill her the same way again...

Archiving that thought for later, our huntress sighed, and she relaxed, wholly satisfied. The Para, now asleep in a tangled mess of rope, seemed at peace as well.

Our huntress took a moment to enjoy the afterglow, to enjoy every last bit of warmth the Para’s semen gave her, before it dribbled out of her violated snatch.

A while later, she rose; mechanically packed her things, burned anything that got cum on it, and untied the Para. Then she went to sleep, alone in her tent.

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

When morning came, her elusive “lover” had vanished. The mare enjoyed the sunrise alone; prettier than the first one, she mused; the comfort of a warm coffee and her bed-sheets, still difficult to leave.

Then, while sitting there—admiring the horizon and contemplating her choices—our huntress decided that she didn’t feel like hunting anymore that day, and left home to busy herself again; to dip her frazzled mind again in the comfort of her work-life. She was no longer the same mare who had arrived there...

A seed had been planted in her, literally and metaphorically: Maybe what she needed in her life wasn’t to take a life, but to give one instead. Was motherhood in her future?

Nah...Not yet, at least.

But maybe...she would come to this magical place less resentful in the future, in order to appreciate it better; to appreciate the wildlife, the sights and sounds, the unpredictability of nature...and respect it for what it was, not for what she could take from it.

For some reason, everything felt a part of her now; the lines between pony, nature, and animal blurred...

• ────── 𖣓 ────── •

That was the general sentiment, at least... Well, until our mare discovered only a week later, at the doctors office, the reason why all the females had rejected the lanky male:

She now had dino-herpes.

“That, Fucking [Redacted]!!!”