You’d have to be crazy to try and smuggle a changeling child into Ponyville in broad daylight. Or, you’d have to be daring. You’d have to notice all of Ponyville was turning out for a Ponyville funeral, complete with celebration of life afterwards. You’d have to risk somepony noticing when you didn’t show up for the ceremony, and you’d have to make a break for it when all Ponyville was distracted, all in hopes of getting your changeling child safely into your secret lair, unseen.
Only Secret Agent Sweetie Drops was that daring.
Unfortunately, it also looked like Secret Agent Sweetie Drops had been crazy to try it.
She lurked in a bush, shielding the changeling from view with her body, rehearsing possible excuses if she were spotted. Ponyville being Ponyville, thought Sweetie Drops, she could probably claim she was fucking somebody in the bush: except, were she spotted she’d have to pretend to be Bon Bon, and it was out of character for Bon Bon to do that. Also, Ponyville being Ponyville, her discoverer might want to join in.
The funeral had run far too short, and something had gone wrong—rather than celebrate life and pleasure out in a big happy gathering of ponies, they’d all dispersed. From the sound of things, thought Sweetie Drops, the ponies were in fact still intending to go and celebrate each others’ bodies and aliveness: the trouble was, they were all wandering through town nuzzling and kissing each other. They seemed so distracted that it was almost worth it to sneak the rest of the way, but one look at a changeling and you knew.
Sweetie Drops blinked. She was being an idiot, wasn’t she?
“How about changing into some pony or other?” she suggested. “Then we can go to my place without being captured.”
The little changeling looked at her, stuck out its lower lip and shook its head vehemently. Sweetie laid her ears back in confusion. Was it because it had been captured already, by her? A form of resistance? Or, since she’d seen it in changeling form before, did it refuse to mimic pony form for some other reason? Or was it simply too little to know how?
The changeling offered no explanation: it just sat there, not trying to escape, but cooperating no more than necessary.
Sweetie Drops sighed, and peeked out of the bush for the tenth time. Eventually there’d be an opportunity to head for her secret lair. They’d get there, even if they had to hide in a dozen bushes along the way.
Sweetie Belle whimpered.
That, however, was nothing compared to Diamond Tiara’s reactions.
Diamond gritted her teeth, and made a keening noise, hugging Apple Bloom tightly. She was hyperventilating, her ears laid back hard in alarm.
Across from her, Apple Bloom presented a perfect mirror image.
“Ow!” whined Featherweight.
“Guys,” pleaded Sweetie, “just g’ve up, okay? Th’s is dumb and y’ll hurt yourselves! Or us!”
“Naw!” panted Apple Bloom. Shuddering, she tried to push herself a little farther onto Featherweight. “Ha! Ah’m winnin’!”
Diamond’s eyes flashed, and she hissed, “Oh no—you—won’t!” and pressed still more heavily onto Sweetie Belle’s bit-induced erection.
The trouble had begun when, by arrangement, Sweetie and Featherweight had sat facing each other, horsecocks aloft. The idea was for Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara to lower themselves onto the stiffened erections and cuddle while being balled by their unaccustomed lovers. The horsecocks were hard, the mares in question were aroused and wetly winking, and all seemed good to go.
The first problem was obvious. Diamond boasted an exceptionally tight little pink pussy, something Apple Bloom loved greatly. However, Sweetie Belle was considerably bulkier, and just didn’t fit.
The second problem was similar. Silver Spoon had kept Featherweight all to herself. There turned out to be a reason for this. The tiny pegasus photographer somehow managed to produce a cock much bigger than his legs, a real shocker that was bigger than what Sweetie had. Apple Bloom wasn’t built like Diamond, but the relative girths amounted to the same basic problem.
The third problem was neither Sweetie’s nor Featherweight’s fault.
As they tried to position themselves, Diamond had told Apple Bloom, “I bet you I’ll be first to take it all the way!”
And so, the die was cast. The Boss and Business Manager of Sweet Apple Acres (and devoted mates and lovers to each other) had locked gazes… and before Sweetie Belle or Featherweight could object, both lusty young mares had shoved fiercely down and promptly got stuck.
Visual inspection of both tautly distended bellies showed that Sweetie’s bit-induced flare tended to swell out more, at least to start. On the other hoof, Featherweight was a small treetrunk transfixing Apple Bloom. Diamond probably couldn’t pull free no matter what she did (barring release of the bit from Sweetie’s mouth, which she adamantly refused to allow Sweetie to do) but Apple Bloom wouldn’t, even if she could.
And both young mares kept shuddering, tensing up, and pinching their stallions unmercifully.
“Yeep!” cried Featherweight. “Help! Silver Spoon!”
Sweetie rolled her eyes. “Maybe you can leave her a message?”
Inches away, Silver Spoon stuck her ass in the air and pounded the ground with a forehoof, whooping and howling. “YES! UHHH YES! MORE! LIKE THAT! KEEP GOING! AHHH! AIIIGH!”
Scootaloo, the cause of her enthusiasm, gritted her teeth on her magic bit. Her back ached, and her wings were sore from maintaining her semi-hovering position, but her pride was at stake. She wasn’t nearly as well hung as Featherweight, but she’d taken on Silver Spoon as a challenge: the roleplay of punky-skate-pony fucking a prissy princess was exciting, plus she figured she could make up for her less monstrous size with technique and sexy attitude. She guessed that little Featherweight probably didn’t have the moves she had, plus as a magic bit user, she could obviously keep it going for longer.
The experiment was shockingly successful.
Silver Spoon shrieked like a griffin going to war. It had taken only a few minutes of expert thrusting and g-spot targeting and clit-massaging with a free forehoof, to reduce the elegant little princess-pony to writhing, squalling jelly. What Scootaloo hadn’t bargained on was the stamina. She’d come twice in Silver Spoon. Spoon had come… probably less than a hundred times, though it was hard to count. It only seemed to make her hornier. She just wouldn’t stop, screaming for more at the top of her prim little lungs. It was a turn-on, very much a great development from the original game, but Scootaloo knew that without a magic bit, she’d have been finished much sooner.
“Augh!” wailed Featherweight. “Make her stop pinching me!”
Sweetie winced, her ears back, and privately thought Featherweight what her mother Rarity apparently deemed a ‘lightweight’. The thought gave her an idea. “H’ve you got a s’feword?”
“What?” whined Featherweight.
“A safew’rd! You kn’w, a sp’cial word that means st’p!” explained Sweetie.
Featherweight’s expression combined dismay and incomprehension. “No! What’s that?”
Sweetie sighed, and winced again as Diamond pressed herself a bit further and then cramped up. “G’ys? F’therweight says st’p!”
“All righty,” hissed Apple Bloom through her teeth.
“AFTER I win!” added Apple Bloom, and wriggled her hips, pushing downward onto Featherweight’s giant boner with determination.
“Aaaa! Mommy!” squeaked Featherweight.
Sweetie frowned. “D’nt say that, you might m’ke them sad,” she began, and then realized any change in the fiercely competing young fillies’ mood might count as an improvement.
Her eyes widened, as a Sweetie Idea came to her.
“F’therweight! I kn’w how to fix th’s. On three, go f’r their clitorises!”
“What?” said Featherweight.
“D’nt you know what a clit is?” demanded Sweetie.
“No!” wailed Featherweight. “Is it a camera part?”
Sweetie rolled her eyes, which directed them over to where Scootaloo was trying to finish off Silver Spoon using just such a technique: balling her with sensuous hip motions, with her hoof busily twiddling Spoon’s clit.
“OH FUCK CELESTIA AARRHGGGLLLGHH AHHH! AHH!” was Silver Spoon’s tireless, unending opinion on the new tricks she’d been shown.
Sweetie Belle shook her head, and returned her attention to Featherweight. “B’y, are you l’cky you met us!”
“N’ver mind,” soothed Sweetie. “Do wh’t I do and it’ll s’n be over.”
Featherweight wasn’t clever in the ways of mares: he was becoming a great connoisseur of fellatio, but Silver Spoon’s demands upon him hadn’t been imaginative. It hadn’t occurred to her to seek more when her tiny and outlandishly hung lover stood ready to penetrate her anytime she asked. Plus, he tended not to be able to reach around and between her legs, and his attention was usually on flying to support his weight while entering her, as he was a bit too small to just mount his importunate marefriend.
However, he was desperate for help, so he watched carefully as Sweetie Belle reached around Diamond with her hoof. He matched her motion with his own, reaching down and fondling Apple Bloom’s perky nipples, for he did know mares kept their boobs there.
Apple Bloom moaned sweetly… but Diamond Tiara let out a throaty yowl like a half-tame griffin, her whole body shuddering.
“No,” counseled Sweetie Belle, “f’rther.”
He explored, feeling Apple Bloom spread her legs a bit wider to accomodate his inquisitive little hoof, and then right where his cock entered her body he felt something, some sort of nubbin or feature between her legs, right at the top of her vagina… stretched out and squished flat by his bulk transfixing her.
As he touched it, it tensed and poked out under his hoof, and he felt Apple Bloom shiver.
“Y’s!” encouraged Sweetie. “R’dy? One… two…”
Featherweight gulped. Suddenly, this idea seemed like it might be a very bad one. He glanced over at his Silver Spoon, who was pounding the ground with a forehoof again in transports of erotic frenzy, and he looked back at Sweetie in expectant horror.
Sweetie’s and Featherweight’s hooves began ferociously masturbating Diamond Tiara and Apple Bloom, even as the two rivals tried to race to the bottom of their respective horsecocks, heedless of comfort or decency.
Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara had just a moment to gaze, shocked, at each other. Then each drew a deep breath, and they grabbed each other in a frantic hug, race forgotten.
“Gaah!” squawked Featherweight. “It does that?”
Sweetie grinned wickedly around the bit in her teeth, nuzzling Diamond’s side as she worked away on her clit. “Yeah!”
Apple Bloom writhed uncoordinatedly, emitting shrieks and howls.
“But…” protested Featherweight, his ears back, though he dutifully masturbated his new mare just like Sweetie’d shown him.
“WH’T?” demanded Sweetie, exasperated beyond patience.
“It’s… making me harder…”
Sweetie stopped for a moment. It was true. They’d outmaneuvered the dickracing mares, but she too was stimulated by Diamond’s frantic, lewd writhing. She could spit out her bit. Featherweight could do no such thing. Sweetie could literally see his flare within Apple Bloom’s belly, just as he could watch her Sweetiecock’s motions inside hysterical Diamond.
Sweetie set her jaw, determinedly.
“S’rves them r’ght,” she decreed. “Let’s finish together, th’n wait for Sc’taloo to be d’ne.”
Featherweight watched wide-eyed as Sweetie continued to masturbate Diamond, and joined in, his hoof steadily pleasuring Apple Bloom. First Apple Bloom, then Diamond, squalled and gushed slippery fluids, and this helped. It also helped that both young mares, their bodies ravaged beyond belief, clung to each other and shook with shared orgasm, their climaxes loosening some of their cramps and tightnesses.
Unfortunately, every new frontier in terms of melting Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara was met by building arousal in Featherweight and Sweetie Belle. Sweetie’s ears laid back again. She couldn’t help but notice Diamond sweating, shaking, driven beyond her orgiastic trance with each swelling of Sweetie’s bit-induced cock. From the feel of it, Diamond had such a little pussy. It was barely standing the pressure.
Across from Diamond, she saw terror in Apple Bloom’s eyes, and the ridge that represented Featherweight’s flare seemed more clearly defined than before.
They had to finish, quick.
Sweetie made a little prayer, though she wasn’t sure whether it was to Celestia or to Rarity… and she awkwardly shifted a hind hoof, sneaking it over between Featherweight’s legs… and as she redoubled her masturbating of Diamond she gently nuzzled Featherweight’s absurdly tiny balls with that hoof.
His wings shot straight out with a palpable ‘pomf!’
And then, with shared grunts of ‘GHHH!’, Featherweight and Sweetie Belle came, their bodies unleashing giant throbs of horsecome.
Apple Bloom shrieked, staring into space. Diamond Tiara made a tormented keening sound. So intense were their death-grips on the enormous horsecocks penetrating them, that Featherweight and Sweetie did not technically unleash horsecome into their lovers. Instead, the pressure just built, blocked from emergence, as the two penis-racers bore down and squeezed shut each penis with raw muscle power alone.
Muscle power that still couldn’t forever resist the carnal force of, on the one hoof, a pubescent pegasus colt, and on the other hoof a magic bit wielding unicorn filly… who was seriously turned on by extremeness.
Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara clung frantically to each other, and simultaneously lost their battle to compress the incompressible… and both screamed with pleasure-pain as they felt themselves stretched that last tiny bit, just enough to unsquish the horsecocks and spray hot stallion juice deeply inside them.
Sweetie gasped in relief, and a part of her curious, perverse, and innocent mind delighted in Bloom and Tiara’s shrieks. Her ear identified the music in them, the stark beauty of carnal intensity such as she’d never seen or heard, the soulful overtones that didn’t quite fracture and shatter, that resonated and told her that yes: to the best of her knowledge, this was ‘scening’ and they’d made it through and out the other side having experienced one pony hell of a ride. It all made sense at last. She’d finally done it, this had to be it, ‘scening’! Possibly too much for everyday sex… no, certainly way too much for everyday sex! Very special indeed! Apple Bloom and Diamond would need to recover… but as Sweetie’s body was shuddered with heavy throbs and gushes of horsecome through her artificial stallionhood, she knew their daring plan had worked…
Sweetie’s ears perked up. Fracture. Shatter! The voices were going sour!
She gasped, and looked at Featherweight, and then she saw the problem. Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara had no strength left to lift themselves, and were sagging onto the monstrous erections from their own bodies’ weight—and still trapped by stiffened flares—and now, inflated by steadily increasing flow of pony-spooge!
“L’ft them!” she begged Featherweight. He’d gone dreamy-eyed, pumping come into Apple Bloom as her pussy got the cramp forcibly stretched out of it, but hadn’t considered the implications of being stuck underneath her, unable to step back and pop free.
Together, Sweetie and Featherweight seized their respective lovers, and heaved them upwards on the combined forces of determined pony forelegs, centrally inserted hydraulic cannons, and the pressures of a body full of spooge.
With a double spludge and two piercing screams, Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara popped off their stallions and horsecome spewed everywhere, drenching Featherweight, Sweetie, and the disbelieving ground all around them. The Boss Mare and Business Manager collapsed on top of their stallions, stunned, wrecked, sated, shocked, and spent.
Sweetie Belle panted. It had been so close! She let her bit fall, and the giant Sweetiecock shrank away, and half the spooge evaporated into nothingness. She hugged Diamond, worriedly. She looked over to see how Scootaloo was doing.
“AHHHH! YES! MORE! NNNNGHHHIEEEE! CEL! ESTI! AAAAAAAAAAH!”
Scootaloo was visibly shaking, wobbling, tears leaking from her eyes as she gritted her teeth on the bit, maintaining her hard-on through the fifth straight orgasm, a puddle of excess magic-semen between Silver Spoon’s spread legs.
Silver Spoon reeled and quivered all over like spastic jelly as Scootaloo masturbated her clit and balled her tirelessly, and the formerly elegant princess-pony drooled with pleasure and somehow kept herself standing through the seven hundred and thirty-eighth straight orgasm. Her glasses were askew, and one lens was cracked. Her braid was half undone and resembled the unkempt mane of some jungle beast. Her voice was completely hoarse, and her vulva was swollen and pink like that of a maddened ferret, and she didn’t let up the tiniest amount.
“FUCK ME HARDER! AAAGHHH!”
Sweetie dragged herself over, and smacked Scootaloo’s leg with a hoof. Scootaloo glanced back, startled, and her eyes were reddened with fatigue and the sweat that ran down her determined face.
“Stop,” said Sweetie.
“NO! NOT STOP! AAAHHH! AGAIN! DO THE THING WITH YOUR HOOF! OH CELESTIA!”
Diamond Tiara, her lower half stricken by excessive fucking to the point where she couldn’t walk, dragged herself over as well. “Yes. Stop! Scootaloo, look at yourself!”
“Look at her!” marveled Apple Bloom, staring in awe at Silver Spoon. Wincing, she stepped over Featherweight. He’d fallen asleep, his half-limp monstrous erection sprawling across the grass. “They’re right, Scootaloo. Whoa there!”
Silver Spoon shrieked. “NO! I’LL DIE! NEVER, THIS CAN’T EVER, DON’T STOP…”
Scootaloo, tears streaming down her face, withdrew her hoof stiffly like her whole body was one big muscle cramp. She staggered back, her pegasus cock popping out of Spoon’s swollen vulva with a juicy splork. She dropped the bit on the ground and her head dropped as well, exhaustedly, and she tottered for a moment and then collapsed, heaving great shuddering breaths. Sweetie Belle wriggled over to embrace her valiant marefriend, and the two cuddled.
Undaunted, the last mare standing, Silver Spoon also heaved deep breaths, and vented them in desperate command.
“NO! SOMEPONY! ANYPONY! MORE! YOU CAN’T STOP! I… I…”
Diamond Tiara dragged herself closer, lifted her head… and blew against Silver Spoon’s trembling flank.
With a scream, Spoon toppled over in a heap, and could not move from that sprawl. Every limb was slackened, her jaw dangled limp against the grass, and she lay boneless in the field and wept bitterly, for it was over.
Diamond, exerting all the energy she had left, dragged herself still nearer… and gave the puddled grey pony a hug, then a little kiss.
“You’ve done well, Spoonie,” she said. “That was glorious. I’m sorry it took me this long to get back in touch.”
Spoon pouted tearfully, and stuck out her lower lip.
“We’ll show you how to do more of this,” promised Diamond. She thought, and amended herself. “We’ll show Featherweight how to do this. Okay?”
Spoon glowered weakly, then gave a little nod.
Apple Bloom staggered over as well, and nuzzled up to Diamond. Diamond bent, and gave Silver Spoon another kiss, right on the muzzle.
“I’m proud of you, Spoon,” she said. “You’re still a leader. That was amazing…”
“Pegasus abuse if ya ask me,” snorted Apple Bloom.
Diamond cuffed her beloved. “Shh. You’re one to talk.”
“Oh. Right… heh, forgot about that.”
Diamond turned back to Silver Spoon. “You’re amazing. But now… sleepy bye?”
Spoon made a face, but her eyes were steadily losing focus… and then, her body exhausted, her brain nearly melting out her ears from ceaseless, debilitating orgasm, Silver Spoon went peacefully to sleep.
“Sweetie?” called Apple Bloom quietly. “Ah think me and you ended up the sole walkin’ survivors of this here celebration of livin’. Help me place Featherweight with Silver Spoon, so they can cuddle. We’ll teach him those tricks later, or as many of ‘em as he kin learn. And then we stand well back!”
“Awww, can’t I watch from real close?” protested Sweetie Belle, but all the same she helped Apple Bloom arrange Featherweight with his valiant lover.
Then, for good measure, they all snuggled up around the pair, and took a nap in the field, for it was such a fine morning.
Braeburn turned aside and trotted anxiously over to where Big Macintosh stood with his head hanging low.
“Princess! Aw, don’t cry? Ah know this is a sad day, but we are remindin’ ourselves about love! Come on with me, Princess. I got some ideas I’m gonna try.”
Big Macintosh shook his head. “Naw…”
Braeburn hugged him, glancing back to where the flower ponies and Caramel walked. “You musta loved her, huh? Ah kin see why, that Numeric Essence was a sure ‘nuff nice pony for all the buzzin-headedness. But let me tell you a secret, you kin come with us and still honor her memory because we won’t be needing your stud pony services.” He glanced again, and whispered, “Won’t even be gettin’ my dick wet, you’ll see. I thought mebbe afterwards, you might oblige?”
Big Macintosh gave Braeburn a very complicated look. It combined sadness, shame, sulking, annoyance, dignity, even heroism… but his words were much simpler.
“Not her,” he said.
Braeburn boggled for a moment, and then his eyes widened. He remembered what Big Macintosh had been asked to do, and his jaw dangled in amazement as he considered the idea that Big Macintosh had, in fact, done it. Who knew that Kirin were so… roomy?
“Dang,” he said in quiet awe. “Well, good for you, Princess. Ah’ll tell you right now, I don’t know how ya managed it. Seemed like a crazy notion to me. I don’t care how perty her mane an’ fetlocks swirl, or that funny tail with the tuft on the end, I woulda guessed you could never tap that skinny lil’ ass. Really?”
Big Macintosh looked down, turning away, a tear dripping down his cheek.
Braeburn hastened to make amends. “Ah’m sorry! That sounded terrible, Ah am no gentleman pony, what am I thinking? Nothin’ wrong with it. She’s a grown, uh, somethin’, and a lovely perty creature, and Ah am in no way complainin’. Plus she’s smart, an’ lively, and, um, brave. Well, she’d have to be, ain’t I right? Which is not to say there’s anything wrong with it! Why, I myself would love to sneak some sausage into that crazy tiny lil’ kirin-cooter. She must really like you. Ah swear to you, I spent a fair amount of time ogling her pussy on account of I wasn’t sure it worked in the usual way or fit real horses so her story din’t make a lick of sense, and I never caught her winkin’ at anypony at all, ever. Not even once. Musta been just you! Prob’ly why I din’t make a move or nothin’, well that an’ there ain’t enough tape in all Equestria to keep that lil’ thing from explodin’ if I were ta…”
“Please don’t,” said Big Macintosh.
“Aw, Princess,” said Braeburn, helplessly. “Ah’m sorry. It’s that bad?”
Big Macintosh just hung his head, looking tragically at Braeburn.
Braeburn sighed, and gave his Princess a tender kiss. “Ah’m so sorry, Princess.”
Then, he glanced behind him, and his ears laid back as he saw Lily, Daisy and Roseluck entering Lily’s house, with Caramel.
“Aw, horseapples,” he said.
Big Macintosh shook off a bit of his woe, and gave Braeburn a questioning look.
“Ah WILL be back,” he vowed. “That’s a promise. An’ you can come with me, but if I don’t git trottin’ right now… ahh, horseapples!”
And with that, the town’s cowpony and resident coitus specialist whirled and galloped off, as fast as he could, to the door of Lily’s house. In no way had the little group of ponies seemed unwelcoming, but they’d shut the door behind themselves, and this seemed to drive Braeburn wild with anxiety.
Big Macintosh watched him go, even took a few steps to follow… but then he turned aside. He would walk quietly to a nice hill, one where he could look East. He would lay down, cry a little, and then he’d gaze to the East and think of Neighpon.
Braeburn would doubtless know where to find him, and one curious thing about Braeburn was this: for all his lusty cowpony debauchery, he still knew how to be alone and with somepony else at the same time. Big Macintosh reckoned Braeburn would be back with him before long, and they could watch the sunset.
He walked quietly off, leaving Ponyville to its own devices for a while.
Braeburn galloped up to the door, and pulled up short, gathering his composure. Time was of the essence, but it wouldn’t do to seem panicky. He took a few deep breaths, calmed himself, and then drew open the door and stepped in, closing it behind him.
He was in luck: or, rather, he was right to take a moment and settle down. His charges weren’t jumping all over each other and ruining everything. They were milling about, sniffing and nuzzling but obviously too nervous to begin.
Braeburn gave Caramel, Lily, Daisy and Roseluck a smile as big as all the prairie.
“Ladies an’ gentlepony,” he said, “this here’s a celebration that will BE a celebration. An’ I think we know why, don’t we?”
Roseluck blushed fiercely. She tried to look down, but couldn’t stop fidgeting and staring at Caramel.
Seeing this, Caramel blushed just as hard, and immediately dropped a boner, and then Rose really couldn’t look away.
“You said we were making Rosie pregnant!” cried Daisy excitedly. Lily gave a little shriek, and fainted at the thought.
Braeburn’s eyes were a little wild. “Whoa, whoa there! Now, how we’re gonna go about this here procedure…”
“He’s going to jump on me!” squealed Roseluck. “And RAM his cock up my pussy all the way! Really hard!”
This time, Daisy screamed and fainted, as Lily groggily got to her hooves.
“Wait!” snapped Braeburn, and his voice rang with authority. “Not so fast! Think it through, Roseluck! An’ jes what do you reckon would happen if he was dernfool enough to do that?”
“Uh…” said Roseluck, her eyes nearly crossing with desire. She imagined it to herself… and wobbled at just the thought, reeling, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Steady, darlin’!” commanded Braeburn. “Everypony, settle down! Steady, Rosie! There’s a danged good reason I got y’all here and asked you to follow my lead. Rosie honey, do you remember the other night, when we were hittin’ the cider? Just after I busted a nut in Daisy’s face and we settled her comfortable-like until she woke up? Remember what you told me?”
Daisy was up again, untroubled by Braeburn’s tale. She’d never been able to suck him off and not faint, because he came so violently and got so big, yet she still loved doing it and he was happy to oblige. She blinked cutely and asked, “Rose? You never told me there was a secret! You told him a secret?”
Lily squealed and fainted, but only for a moment. She stirred, and then looked puzzled. “But… that wasn’t much of a secret!”
“Pow’ful important, though,” said Braeburn. He cleared his throat. “Ah’ll tell you all now, about Roseluck’s heart’s desire. We are here to fulfill it. Miss Roseluck wants to git herself fucked by Mister Caramel here. She wants to take him all th’ way. She’s fixin’ to ride his stallionhood to th’ last stop, and she’s gonna have him bust a nut in her fine sweet pony pussy, an’ she’ll get drenched in horsecome and made one hundred per cent PA-REGNANT by our Mister Caramel, stallion extraordinaire…”
All three mares squeed and staggered, the magnitude of the concept almost laying them out then and there.
“…WITHOUT faintin’!” concluded Braeburn, triumphantly.
Daisy’s and Caramel’s jaws dropped. Their eyes got as wide as Lily’s.
“How?” squeaked Daisy.
“Why?” squeaked Caramel.
Braeburn lowered his voice. “Well, now, Ah’ll tell you why, Mister Caramel. I know you two love each other. I know y’all lit up when I said I could help you git pregnant, an’ that’s no lie. But I also know why she tole me that. This is Rose’s dream, Mister Caramel, and I need you to do exactly as Ah say, no matter how excited you get, and we’ll make that dream a reality for dear Rosie… an’ for you.”
Caramel gulped. “But… you didn’t answer me. Why? She always faints. All the flower ponies faint.”
Braeburn’s eyes simmered, and his wicked grin flickered about his muzzle entrancingly.
“Because she don’t just want you balls-deep up her cute lil’ coozie. An’ she don’t just want you blowin’ a load into her lil’ pony womb. She wants to remember… and savor… Every. Last. Moment.”
Daisy and Lily wobbled, overwhelmed by the romance and earnestness of that admission. Daisy even plopped down onto her rump, hyperventilating. The notion seemed to amaze her.
Caramel’s cock immediately swung forward, going stiff so fast it nearly pomfed like a pegasus wing from excitement alone.
And if Braeburn’s eyes simmered, Roseluck’s sultry eyes seethed. Though she was still bashful and prone to fainting at the least shock, it was plain that Braeburn had exaggerated nothing.
“So, as you kin see,” said Braeburn calmly, “we got to do things a certain way. Ah’m speaking especially to you, Mister Caramel, but I expect our dear flower ponies to listen as well, on account of they kin set each other off by mistake. To be perfectly honest, girls, I’ll consider it a victory if just dear lil’ Rosie gets her dream, but I ain’t above going for broke and takin’ it to the limit.”
“What does that mean?” asked Lily.
“Ain’t makin’ no promises,” said Braeburn, “but I do believe that if we do this just right, you and Daisy can watch Rosie bein’ come in and all three of you can remain conscious, and remember the moment that Roseluck got knocked the fuck up! By THAT boner, right there!”
Daisy squealed, and fell over in a faint.
Braeburn didn’t even twitch. “Which jes’ goes to show you,” he said, “how NOT to do it. So, first of all: no yellin’. No jumpin’ around, no sudden movements. No squealin’. Ah will not even raise my derned voice again, nor will I wave my hat nor cry yeehaw. There’s a time an’ a place for that, and on other occasions we kin have more fun gittin’ rowdy, cos’ there won’t be so much to miss. This time? Take a deep breath. If you want, we kin all yell ‘yay!’ together, on account of that’s the last yellin’ any of you will do until we’re good an’ done.”
“Really?” said Daisy, who’d gotten back up.
“Can we really all yell ‘yay’?” said Daisy.
Braeburn studied her. “Don’t see why not, if you promise that’s the only time. Ah was seriously considering leavin’ you two out, or sendin’ off for some gags and bridles and hoofcuffs from Rarity’s late-night business. This is important and I won’t stand for y’all messin’ it up. Do you promise that’s the last yellin’ or squealin’ you’ll do, until we’re finished?”
Lily and Daisy nodded frantically, their eyes pleading with him.
“All righty then,” said Braeburn. “Jes’ this once… give us a ‘yay’.”
Braeburn blinked in shock. Four pairs of pony eyes drank him in, eager and trusting and filled with love, totally in his sway. It hadn’t been just Daisy and Lily: Rose had joined them, and Caramel was louder than any of the flower ponies, and they’d rattled the windows with it, but not one flower pony had fainted.
They kept staring, hanging on his every word, completely obedient.
“Dang,” said Braeburn quietly, as the silence stretched out. “This jes’ might work.”
Roseluck quivered, her eyes locked with Caramel’s. He quivered too: or at least, his hard-on did. He, on the other hoof, looked scared to move.
“Like this,” said Braeburn, and he lay on his back on Roseluck’s bed. “Come over here, Rosie. Get on me.”
Daisy squealed. “You’re going to fuck her first! But…”
She froze, for Braeburn’s eyes were stern.
“No, I ain’t,” he said. “An’ keep your dang voice down. You’ll see. C’mere, Rosie, an’ trust me more’n this silly filly does.”
Roseluck drifted over, unsteadily, tripping over her own hooves in sheer distractedness. She blinked, and gave a little moan. Braeburn was turgid, his impressive stallionhood trying to peek out of its sheath.
“Don’t fret,” he soothed. “Best get settled quick. And a lil’ bit sideways, okay? Or maybe that won’t work, ‘scuse me…”
As Roseluck’s eyes widened, another few inches of Braeburn slithered out of his sheath, but he reached out a forehoof and dressed his whole swelling horse-hood to the side, even as it emerged.
“Git on me now,” ordered Braeburn, “Ah know what I’m doin’.”
Gulping, trembling, Roseluck clambered onto the bed and went belly to belly with Braeburn. Her pussy immediately went into a frenzy of winking, but she stayed quiet as Braeburn reached up, hugged her, and curled his fine strong cowpony hind legs back to either side of her quivering body. His position suggested he was the mare, and Rose was the stallion between his legs. This didn’t seem to worry him at all.
“Now, Mister Caramel, I do b’leeve we’re ready for ya. You know what to do. Please mount your mare at yer earliest convenience, before she git too excited and pop off without ya,” said Braeburn.
Caramel’s eyes were wide, but they were fixed on Rose’s pussy, that madly winking, glistening, dripping pony Nirvana. He trotted forward, hopped onto the bed with jaunty eagerness, and reared, mounting on Rose’s rump excitedly. He drew his hips back, began to make exploratory thrusts, felt and heard a gloriously juicy squelch as he found her vagina and began to plunge…
Braeburn’s rear hooves caught him in the crook of his hips, stopping him with irresistible force, and held him right where he was. It hadn’t been a kick or a buck: the cowpony had deftly interposed his hooves, and just blocked the thrust, effortlessly.
Caramel leaned over in astonishment and looked down, and Braeburn grinned up at him.
“You know what ta do… but this is HOW ya do.”
With that, Braeburn eased off the pressure, and Caramel, wide-eyed, followed his lead, hips tenderly swinging forth guided by cowpony hooves. The experience was so disconcerting, that it took him a moment to remember what it was for.
It didn’t take him long to be reminded. Lily and Daisy stared from behind him like they were watching miracles and wonders, and then he felt soft roundness against his crotch and realized his whole cock felt deliciously warm and slippery… and he realised he’d gone to the hilt in Rosie, real gentle and slow, and was so off-balance by Braeburn’s weird behavior that he’d barely noticed.
Roseluck most certainly had.
Squeezed cozily between Braeburn and Caramel, keeping resolutely silent no matter what, Rose’s brain had exploded with pleasure from the first squelchy poke… and she’d never felt anything, anything to compare with the sensation of Caramel slurping so sedately and relentlessly into her. It split her wide with the girth of his horsecock, sounded her to depths she’d never had touched, yet calm and slow with a control she’d never imagined. She felt like she was in the forelegs of a stallion fit to master her, ride her anywhere, any way he chose, and her body melted down into complete surrender, juicy slickness surging forth to greet his every delightful move.
In fact, she was in the forelegs of two stallions at once, and the cock was all Caramel but the moves were pure Braeburn.
Braeburn felt his own cock shove eagerly out, along Roseluck’s trembling side, and grinned to himself. Now, if he was screwing a sturdier mare, this’d be good time to give her a lil’ ol’ buck and shake her up. But it was a special occasion, so of course he…
Roseluck shuddered hard, and clenched. Caramel, his nostrils flaring, yanked his hips back, and went to plunge hungrily back to her depths.
Braeburn’s hooves flicked out again, and caught him, and the cowpony whacked Caramel on the shoulder with a hoof.
“Whoa there!” he commanded, holding Caramel at bay.
Caramel panted, his eyes rolling. “Sorry…”
“Nature do call, don’t she?” quipped Braeburn. “All right, nice and easy… back in.”
Rose’s whole body shook as Braeburn guided Caramel’s hips. She made plaintive whimpering noises, her eyes rolling back in her head, as Caramel’s hard-on slid deeper and deeper into her body, coming to rest where it had been, seemingly pressing her eager frantic womb.
“Don’t thump,” advised Braeburn. “On the one hoof, that can hurt ‘em. When it don’t hurt ‘em, it gives ‘em such a jolt that she’ll faint for sure. An’ that’s fun but that ain’t what we’re here for…”
Roseluck’s eyes weren’t rolling back anymore. She was still panting, moaning, louder and louder. She wasn’t looking Braeburn in the eye, no. She was staring somewhat lower. Braeburn followed her gaze to see his own enormous penis, so stiff it was glossy, throbbing cheerfully right against her trembling side. Roseluck couldn’t stop staring, and it was obvious the sight was exciting her. It seemed she was reacting like she was being fucked by two horsecocks, the one sunk to her depths and throbbing tightly in her juicy confines, the other one insouciantly flaring out right there where she could watch. Rose began to squeal and shake, overstimulated by the sensory surround and multiple sensations…
“Aw shit,” blurted Braeburn. “Uhh… Lily? Kin ya…”
Both Lily and Daisy reacted as one. Daisy rushed forward to one side of the coupling (or tripling) ponies, and began talking to Rose. “Good girl! It’s okay, calm down, you’re beautiful, we can do this…”
Lily took the other side, and Braeburn’s face was transformed with smiles, relief, and a hint of wicked naughtiness. Lily had rushed over and hid his cock from Rose’s view… with her entire foreleg.
Braeburn throbbed at the contact, and swelled an inch and a half further, oozing a bit of precome. Lily adjusted her foreleg’s position, with only a minor wobble of near-fainting.
“Thankee,” said Braeburn, and he meant it. “I’ll try not to tease ya. Keep holdin’ that there, less’n you got a blanket. Or we kin put a lil’ hat on it and call it my little helper?”
Lily’s lip quivered, and her gaze pleaded. Over him, Roseluck shook and moaned.
“Sorry,” said Braeburn. “Thanks again. Let’s do this.”
Caramel peered down at him. “Uhh! She’s… wow!” Roseluck’s tail thrashed against his crotch, and her lovely rump wriggled feverishly against him.
“Steady,” counseled Braeburn, his ears laid back in concentration. “Listen… you might be able ta do a little nudgin’. Go careful.”
Caramel gave it a try. Roseluck bucked under him, wailing.
“Oh gosh!” cried Caramel, as her vagina convulsed upon him in a brutally powerful orgasm. “Uhhh!”
“Whoa!” demanded Braeburn. “Hold! She’s out.”
“Oh, no!” squeaked Daisy, horrified.
“Sh! Don’t yell. Ah thought we might get some of this. Caramel? Hold still and keep thinkin’ of what that felt like. But not too much! Ah will kick your flank if you bust off too soon. Rosie?” cooed the cowpony. “Oh, Rosie? Come back, Rosie…”
Rose’s eyelids flickered. For a moment, she stared uncomprehending… and then she glanced to either side, her face all fear and tragedy.
“Naw,” said Braeburn firmly. “You hear that? Naw, he din’t. Now you stay with us, Rosie!”
Roseluck’s lip quivered desperately. Her expression bore mute testament to how much she wanted her dream, and her sudden realization of how ambitious it really was. If she couldn’t even withstand her OWN orgasm without fainting…
“Stay strong,” commanded Braeburn. He reached up and caressed her cheek, wiping away a tear. “You kin do this, honey. We best move along.”
Lily swayed, Braeburn’s cock throbbing under her foreleg. “How?” she asked, plainitively. “I’m never going to stand it when you come, Braeburn. It’s gonna bounce off the headboard and spray all over Rosie and she’ll be out too…”
“Sh!” said Braeburn, as Roseluck whimpered at the prospect. He gritted his teeth. “Don’t you, DON’T you dare, don’t you let it go…” he hissed, his eyes squeezed shut in fearsome determination. Then he opened them, to see all four wildly aroused ponies staring right at him.
“Mister Caramel?” said Braeburn calmly. “You’re in position, tucked right up in there. Don’t you move… but cast your mind back to how that felt. And think an’ think an’ THINK it. Rose, hold on!”
And Braeburn held his breath, and he fiercely held back his own explosive cumshot, and he watched, for there was nothing more he could do for them.
Rose’s eyes went wide, in perfect silence. Caramel was doing what Braeburn asked. That hardened horsecock wasn’t plunging within her, oh no. But it was palpably stiffening. It swelled hungrily inside her, taking her breath away, filling her with mingled excitement and panic and even though he wasn’t thrusting…
“uh! Uh! Uh! Ah! AH!”
Rose began crying out, unable to control herself, her eyes open wide and full of alarm as orgasm stole upon her and began shaking her like a toy in the jaws of a Diamond Dog. She clung desperately to awareness as the surges and spasms built…
A wild staccato squelching, barely audible over her panicked cries, emerged from between her shuddering rump and Caramel’s immobile crotch. He wasn’t thrusting, but her orgasm built until she was spasming so hard she was jerking him off, her vagina convulsing insanely on him as she fought to stay conscious.
Caramel, his body stiff, his mouth hanging open in a soundless cry of amazement, raised his unseeing eyes to the ceiling. He clung to Rose as she spasmed, and from under her, Braeburn hugged both of them, petting first Caramel and then Roseluck with gentle, encouraging touches.
Rose’s eyes began to cross.
“GUH!” grunted Caramel…
And Roseluck squealed “EEEH!” as she felt Caramel’s earth pony semen gush fiercely through that swollen horseboner, splatter against her cervix, and then with ceaseless urgent pumping into her virgin womb where it sloshed stickily about, palpably there, more and more of it with each stallion-spasm.
“Guh! Uhh! Nhh! UNNH! Ughh! Bluh! Buh…”
Braeburn grinned. There was nothin’ lovelier nor sillier than a stallion blowin’ an extra hard load. Some of them had looked like a real bucketful, if Braeburn was any judge of gushers. Caramel’s tongue dangled foolishly, his eyes unfocused. He’d be fine. Braeburn glanced hastily back at the three mares against him…
Roseluck stared resolutely at the wall, very much aware, and her face was wreathed in the smile of an angel, an expression of unimaginable joy and gratitude such as Braeburn had never seen: not even from his own best efforts. Of course, he thought, this was going to have to count as his best effort yet, or he was a donkey. She so obviously felt it, every last moment.
To the sides, Lily and Daisy gazed upon her like the angel’s filly lackeys, nearly blubbering with joy, speechless. They hadn’t fainted, either.
Furtively, Braeburn lifted his hind hooves, and placed them against Caramel’s hips once more. Not because the dazed, sated stallion seemed likely to buck: just as insurance. It would be sacrilege to break this spell. Along the same lines, he gritted his teeth and tightened up his nethers, refusing himself an orgasm despite the insanely potent waves of pleasure totally surrounding and lifting him until he felt like he’d had a bucket of salt, a gallon of cider, and a swift kick to the head.
He’d have a chance to bust his nuts some other time. For now… he had, they all had, won the grandest prize imaginable.
Roseluck still stared at infinity, eyes wide and aware, even as her head gradually settled onto Braeburn’s chest. Tenderly, Lily and Daisy nuzzled closer, both of them crying with joy. Over all of them, Caramel drooled onto Rosie’s mane, caught himself, looked embarrassed, and then sagged too, not trying to dismount, just allowing his body to soften and melt onto theirs, the hard intrusion into Rose’s fertile softness beginning to subside, his gift to her obviously still felt deep within her most precious depths.
Braeburn sighed with deep satisfaction.
“An’ that,” he breathed, so gently, “is how we keep love alive…”
And they didn’t sleep, except for Caramel. Braeburn lay with the three flower ponies for minute after minute, basking with them in the joy of wakened dreams.
Roseluck nuzzled Caramel’s sleeping face.
“Next time,” she purred sweetly, “I want to be banged like Rainbow Dash…”
Braeburn snorted with laughter. “Mares!”
At the door of Fluttershy’s cottage, Pinkie Pie hesitated, lifting a forehoof, shying away.
She had BEEN that door, and the windows, and the wall. She’d delighted in panicking the zebras: she’d have panicked Fluttershy if she could, but there was nothing she could do that would frighten the vampire pegasus. It was like her straight-mare unavailability rendered her immune to Pinkie’s gift of madness, alarm, and disruption.
Pinkie looked back, into Zecora’s impassive stripey face. The zebra mare gazed solemnly into Pinkie’s imploring eyes. If there was a forgiveness there, it wasn’t some sort of pony forgiveness, of hugs and tears and promises. Zecora waited, withholding judgement or blame, unhurried… to see what Pinkie Pie would do.
Fluttershy’s gaunt little frame pushed past the two. “Hmph! I told you to come to my place and have sex with me, what’s the matter with you?” she said, petulantly.
Zecora’s gaze visibly flicked from Pinkie’s fretful eyes, to Fluttershy’s goatlike, seemingly elderly ass as the vampegasus walked into her cottage. Zecora’s lips tightened, but before any other expression could register, she was looking at Pinkie again. Her head was held high, as Pinkie peered anxiously at her and wondered if Zecora blamed her for the changes. Should she have done more, somehow interceded and prevented this? How?
As if reading Pinkie’s unspoken distress, Zecora shut her eyes for a moment, and lowered her head. She looked again at Pinkie with a less judgemental gaze, and she gave a little jerk with her head, a gesture. In, she suggested. In.
Pinkie Pie backed up, bumped the door, gave a little whinny of startlement, whirled and trotted obediently into the cottage, as Fluttershy had asked.
Behind her, Zecora’s gaze flicked unerringly to the jounce and ripple of Pinkie Pie’s plush posterior. Her expression didn’t change, but she followed very close behind.
Fluttershy had already trotted upstairs, Dursaa in hot pursuit. Pinkie saw him heading into the bedroom, his big weighty zebra cock already swinging forward. She recoiled, then glanced in apparent fright at Zecora. It seemed that Pinkie Pie, having abandoned her dominant and reality-ignoring behavior, was left with little idea of what would be considered okay. Was cringing away from a huge throbbing zebra cock okay in this household? She didn’t seem to know.
Zecora’s zebra sternness had always done battle with Pinkie wackiness. It now reigned unopposed. Pinkie’s lip quivered as she looked to Zecora for some sort of clue.
“Don’t worry, we won’t insist you withstand any stallion outburst,” said Zecora. “We’ll just ensure that our pegasus is content, first.”
She turned and headed up the stairs with a calm, unhurried gait. Pinkie trailed after, peering around her stripey rump, her eyes big as if she was creeping into a haunted house.
In certain ways, she might as well have been.
Dursaa balanced himself, trying to mount Fluttershy without placing any weight on her since she seemed both feeble and fragile. His monumental zebra cock swung under him, prodding his vampegasus lover in awkward places.
Fluttershy squealed. “Eeeeee! Would you get it together? You know how to do this! Will you just jump on already? Oh, Zecora, Pinkie, thank goodness! Help! This big oaf has forgotten how… eeee! to fuck!”
Pinkie’s face twisted in a pitiable frown of dismay, but Zecora didn’t hesitate. “Hold still!” she commanded, and reached out a steadying hoof. “Husband dear: it goes HERE.”
Dursaa, cooperatively, pressed his hips forward. There wasn’t so much of a squelch, but all the same, his penis shoved firmly against Fluttershy’s narrowed, seemingly elderly vulva, and then popped in.
“UNNNHHH!” moaned Fluttershy, her wings springing erect.
Both Zecora and Pinkie regarded the sight with differing degrees of dismay. Fluttershy’s bones weren’t any different than they had been, but her lack of plush meant that Dursaa’s girth seemed still more exaggerated. He was gentle as he pressed deeper, to another moan from Fluttershy and the wriggling of her diminished haunches, but all the same, it seemed worrying.
Zecora muttered, “I shall begin work on those extensions tomorrow…”
Dursaa’s eyes closed, and he nuzzled the top of Fluttershy’s head, and then the shank of her upraised wing. To him, it seemed, nothing could possibly be wrong.
Zecora caught Pinkie’s expression out of the corner of her eye, and her ears laid back. Hastily, she moved to interpose her stripey body between Pinkie’s shellshocked eyes and the coupling pair. She bent nearer.
Pinkie let out a whimper. From behind Zecora, the beginnings of a juicy, gentle rhythm began to emerge.
Zecora lost no time. She began nudging Pinkie away from the scene, back down the stairs. “Pinkie, walk with me. This you should not see… at least not now, at any rate. It seems too much, you’d better wait.”
Pinkie allowed herself to be coaxed down the stairs, into the living room, in front of the couch facing the wall she’d replaced with herself. She struggled to explain. “No, no, it’s okay, by which I mean it’s not okay at all but I know this is what Fluttershy always loved best, I want the right thing for her, I can h…hear how happy she is…”
Zecora’s ears laid back again, as a lewd pegasus yowl wafted down from upstairs. “You think so? Surely there’s no doubt. A deaf pony could work that out.” She winced at something, but turned her attention to Pinkie.
“I’m s…sorry…” quavered Pinkie. “I shouldn’t even be here…”
Pinkie Pie blinked. “Yes?”
Pinkie wrinkled her brow. “That didn’t rhyme.”
Zecora sighed. “Would that I had granted you the respect of private talk long ago!”
“Well, that rhymed even less!” said Pinkie. “Unless you’re working up to some kind of really long, complicated…”
“Okay, that would be a really cheap rhyme, even if I did spend an episode in a mirror pool rhyming myself with myself,” said Pinkie, distracted, her eyes tracking random thoughts and associations.
Zecora leaned in, and kissed her on the lips, and Pinkie stopped raving.
“Both of us find some dismay in what’s happened to Fluttershy,” admitted Zecora. “You have never enjoyed her love of stallions, and I… am troubled by her new condition.”
“I’m sorry!” said Pinkie. “We tried to kill the monster but it was too hard! I could have tried to help sooner but I’m not sure how much difference it would’ve made…”
“No, no!” protested Zecora. “We rejoice in your shared victory. It’s not that I mean. I have needs, and I think I have been a fool…”
Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Oh! That! We used to… I remember, now. I’m sorry! Lie on the couch and I, I’ll try to get back into it…”
Zecora stamped the floor, and Pinkie fell silent, cringing back at the haughty zebra glare. Somehow she couldn’t do anything right! Her eyes teared up, but then Zecora was leaning forward, nuzzling her with surprising gentleness.
“Please don’t do that,” said Zecora gently. “Please. What I wish of you is not so hard. I have never seen such a hasty pony! Cannot you rest? Do you understand so little? Do you understand ME so little, Pinkie Pie?”
Pinkie gulped. Her lip quivered. And then she asked a question she’d never once asked Zecora, never asked Fluttershy: a question she’d never dared ask anypony because the answer could have been ‘nothing’.
“What do you want from me?” asked Pinkie Pie.
Zecora’s eyes glinted warmly, somehow, a fire and an embrace balanced within them.
“Relax and be soft,” she said. “I like it. And… allow me my fill. Of this.”
Pinkie blinked, puzzled. “Of what?”
And then she backed up, as Zecora advanced. Backed up until she bumped the couch, and the zebra enchantress kept right on smiling and advancing. And Pinkie flumphed right back onto the couch, her legs in the air, and Zecora’s smile widened…
With a little sigh of satisfaction, Zecora buried her face between Pinkie’s voluptuous thighs and just nuzzled, glorying in the billows of plump pink pony before her. Rubbing tender pony breasts, wiggling her entire face against the pudgy softness of Pinkie’s inner thighs. Prodding Pinkie’s quivery, billowy vulva with her dark grey nose, those heavy earrings dangling and cold against Pinkie’s flesh, the bold and alarming manestyle highlighting those huge, intense, aqua eyes.
Pinkie gazed down in astonishment, speechless.
Zecora smirked up at her, raised a hoof, and spanked the side of Pinkie’s pudgy, cake-induced flank. A ripple of squidgy softness coursed through Pinkie’s relaxed leg, across her ample vulva, into the other leg where it wobbled over the other side of her ass, and then rippled right back again.
Pinkie had done that once, exactly once, with Fluttershy while Fluttershy was pregnant with Rock Candy and being fed fudge by her earth pony paramour at every available opportunity. Fluttershy hadn’t understood, and Pinkie had slept on the couch that night, and not until Fluttershy had returned to her preferred shape had she felt herself again. Though the secretly vampiric pegasus had bountiful curves, she’d never gloried in them, always picturing herself as the gangly little pegasus filly she’d once been.
Zecora’s smirk grew more inflamed as she gazed lustfully up into Pinkie’s widening eyes.
Horses for courses, it would appear.
And then, she’d dived back into the supple fields of Pinkie laid quiveringly out before her, a feast for more than just the tongue… and Pinkie was at first too stunned to respond, particularly as Zecora resumed nuzzling her whole squishy groin area in obvious delight, rather than zero in on clit or even vaginal folds. No, Zecora admired all the soft rounded Pinkie rolls and folds, blossoms of pony pudge so tender and delicious…
“AHH!” squeaked Pinkie.
…and proved it, by cramming her whole face into Pinkie’s crotch, her hungry tongue exploring deep into the many-layered softness of Pinkie’s tender vagina.
Pinkie writhed, but not to get away: just galvanized by the sensation. How could anything else crave her body the way those lusty pegasi had, so long ago? Nopony else had ever shown such enthusiasm. Why hadn’t Zecora said anything about this?
Oh, right, thought Pinkie: it might have something to do with flinging the hapless zebra over and going full Pinkie inside Zecora’s stripey muscular pussy until she couldn’t walk. And of course she hadn’t asked, because why would anypony crave an ordinary and rather pudgy earth pony so hotly?
Zecora snarled with pleasure, suckled on Pinkie’s clit, kneaded her unresisting body with firm zebra hooves, and went back to eating soft yielding pussy like it was a special candy.
Her lusty delight was impossible not to believe. Pinkie squirmed again, more weakly, her whole psyche demanding that she switch positions and earn her keep and give better than she got. Zecora wasn’t having any of that, and didn’t let up for a moment, her eyes transfixing Pinkie, juice dripping from the edges of her grin. And then she’d shoved her whole face in there again, her tongue reaching surprisingly deep, but not like some sort of stunt: merely the natural result of wallowing in mare with shameless, heedless glee.
Pinkie Pie melted back against the couch like she’d never done, surrendering completely… and squealed at the ceiling, melting down into a twitching, shuddering ponypuddle in an orgasm that didn’t just pop like a party cannon and turn itself to returning the favor. Not even with her beloved pegasi patrol had she come so hard, for pegasi were no match for an aroused, excited earth pony wanting to flip them over and go cupcakes on their pretty vaginas. Nopony had ever made Pinkie Pie lie back and endure cunnilingus for more than a few seconds. Or interceded when Pinkie’s natural response to an orgasm was to immediately and gratefully turn the tables, stop coming herself, and promptly give twelve times the orgasms to her marefriends. The only pegasus who could possibly have done it would’ve been Rainbow Dash, and Dash never argued about receiving twelve times the orgasms she gave. It had all seemed fair at the time.
Zecora was a powerful, excited, intimidating zebra mare, and bigger than Pinkie, and Pinkie had been ready to tolerate something new and different for a change.
Or for a few seconds.
Or for a few minutes…
Zecora gulped, her eye twitching, and looked up, ears quirked in concern. Pinkie had been shrieking and squealing until she was hoarse, and had convulsed gloriously until she could convulse no more. Zecora liked that even better, for she’d gone even more squishy when exhausted past the ability to spasm forcefully—and so Zecora had kept right on going, trusting in earth pony stamina to protect her crazy pink pussy-feast from harm. But when Pinkie’s screams of ecstacy gave way to feeble croaks of ecstacy, Zecora came to her senses. Lifting her head, she gazed with concern on her tongueiwork, wondering if she’d broken Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie, limp beyond all comprehension, gazed up at Zecora in stunned awe.
“…why?” she croaked.
Zecora blushed, and scuffed a forehoof on the floor.
“I love fat mares, I cannot lie.”
Pinkie’s mind appeared blown, but some coherent thought seemed to pull itself together, the unruffled pink brow wrinkling in thought, then smoothing in an earnest, imploring gaze.
“Don’t ever leave me!” she begged. “Don’t make me be alone!”
Tears were in Zecora’s eyes. She scooched forward, and embraced Pinkie’s limp, sated body.
“Never,” she promised. “We will work things out, if ever we find conflict and sadness again. You will not be excluded. This, I vow.”
Pinkie sobbed, clinging to Zecora, happy and overwhelmed like she’d never, ever been.
Zecora sighed, content.
“Our Zebra herds are rarely only three,” she said. “The others doubtless will agree with me.”
The little, sulky voice drifted down from upstairs, as if voicing some objection or concern. “Um…”
Zecora’s eyes shot wide. She stared at Pinkie like a zebra madmare, then at the stairwell. She gritted her teeth. “Our Fluttershy’s not always kind. But damned if she will change my mind!”
“No!” squeaked Fluttershy’s voice. “I heard what you did to Pinkie, good for you! It figures she just needed zebra sex, I swear by it! But, um… we have a little problem, or sort of a big problem?”
Zecora’s and Pinkie’s eyes met.
Before she knew it, Zecora was trotting up the stairs… and somehow, behind her, staggered Pinkie Pie. That earth pony stamina was really something, thought Zecora approvingly… and then, she came into the bedroom, and clattered to a halt, staring.
Fluttershy and Dursaa were in exactly the same position, perhaps with Dursaa wedged a little deeper into the vampony’s pussy. Fluttershy pouted out from under him, lying on her back with her legs splayed obscenely around his massive body.
But there was nothing juicy about their coupling. Shy had run dry, her eager arousal not able to lubricate that vast an erection. They’d slowed down, and got stuck.
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” said Fluttershy, “could you… you know.”
Zecora stared at their plight, then turned. “I’ll get the butter, darling Flutter.”
Pinkie’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”
“My darling loves a zebra much,” said Dursaa embarrassedly, “but sometimes her grasp exceeds her gush…”
Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Butter? Oh, no. No no. You gotta be kidding. One side.”
Zecora gasped. “But… Pinkie Pie, is this not unthinkable horror for you? Do not spoil the pleasure I’ve given, by grossing yourself out!”
“Silly Zecora!” she said, and winked a merry blue eye. “Helping others isn’t bad. Maybe gross? But,” she said and whispered to Zecora, “I’ve done this before. In the first book, long ago. Trust me.”
“The first what?” said Zecora, but Pinkie was determinedly wobbling forward on her unsteady, sex-weakened hooves.
“So dry there’s not even any donut frosting,” she said, with mingled relief and disapproval. “Big Stripey, when that thing goes off, don’t point it at me, okay?”
Fluttershy was staring in disbelief. “I don’t see why you can’t just go and get some butter like we always use. Then you can just YEEEEE!”
Pinkie’s tongue lovingly caressed her tiny nub of a clitoris, where it was squished against Dursaa’s shaft, and then slathered the shank of that stallionhood in saliva.
It tasted like skin and pussy, which was about the least surprising observation ever, thought Pinkie Pie. The surprising part was how much less alarming the thing was, when it obviously wasn’t replacing you in the eyes of the mares you loved. It was just Dursaa’s special thing, and Dursaa in turn was Fluttershy’s special thing, but not her only special thing. She had others, as Pinkie well knew.
She could feel Dursaa trying to shift himself inside Fluttershy, and she smirked, knowing he didn’t have the secret to that magic trick. She did.
Pinkie half-shut her eyes, and concentrated wholly on licking and making love to that little bitty nub called a Fluttershy’s clitoris, something Shy hadn’t even known she had until Pinkie had revealed it to her. It was literally the same as ever, though so much else about Shy had changed in their battle against Snowy Hocks. Her clit remained tiny, hidden… and sensitive. It responded enthusiastically to nearby thrustings.
But Pinkie Pie knew how to coax it out, and caress the hidden jewel with an expert tongue. It took dexterity, and coordination, and skill… but the rewards were great.
Fluttershy went rigid, with a croaking noise and wide, shocked eyes. Her lean little ass tensed around the oversized stallionhood wedged in her vagina. With tender slurping sounds, Pinkie continued to lick her clitoris, as Zecora watched enthralled.
“Uhh! UHH! EEEEEEE!”
Fluttershy bucked under Dursaa, and suddenly Pinkie’d jumped backward, and a whole new juicy-wet glisten coated Dursaa’s cock, and it was free to plunge and with obscene slurping sounds it did just that…
Fluttershy yowled a lewd song of orgasm, clinging to her husband, and the squirting marely orgasm she’d experienced was kicked up into the stratosphere by Dursaa roaring and plunging to her depths and spurting copious gouts of zebracome. Panting, sweating, he drew his erection back to make room, and Fluttershy writhed and wailed sweetly in still more orgasm as his issue inflated her with its zebra-standard volume.
“Told you I could do it,” said Pinkie smugly. Zecora kissed her, and watched Dursaa and Shy subside.
Dursaa sagged, his mighty head lowering, his mighty cock softening and withdrawing. A flood of spooge poured out of Fluttershy, accompanied by a sultry vampony moan.
Zecora looked at Pinkie with respect. “You do know how to be one of a herd, pink pussy-pie. I have been most unfair.”
Pinkie’s eyes were also sultry, as she looked back at Zecora. “Very unfair. I can’t even walk. Mmm.”
“You walked up here!” objected Zecora.
“Doesn’t count, it was an emergency,” said Pinkie. “Now I can’t walk back down…”
“Oh, shut up and snuggle me!” demanded Fluttershy. “That was wonderful!”
Earth pony and zebra eyes met, in shared amusement. Loving a pegasus could be exhausting. Loving a vampire pegasus… was probably best done in teams.
“Are you comfortable snuggling a sticky Fluttershy?” asked Zecora, politely.
Rather than answer, Pinkie just wobbled forward and embraced Shy as well as she could, on one side. Zecora went on the other side and did likewise. And Fluttershy was dutifully hidden from view, little old granny-goat vampony body completely surrounded by loving herd members (and herd members’ members), warmed by two zebras, an earth pony mare, and a lot of love.
And something else, besides: a gift un-looked for.
“Ooooh!” marvelled Pinkie. “Fluttershy, you know what? You’re warming US!”
Fluttershy closed her eyes and snuggled, her smile radiant.
Pinkie nestled against her true love… and some bonus loves of different varieties… and marvelled at her second chance.
Sweetie Drops knew she’d only get one chance. She peered out of the bush, scouting for stray ponies, and her heart gave a grinding extra thump as she realized the click of the Sugarcube Corner door, behind Mr. and Mrs. Cake, had meant the departure of the last pony in sight. The streets were clear; but for how long? There was no telling. All she knew was, Ponyville wouldn’t stay that way. How long did the average stallion take to squirt and dismount? She cursed her lesbian ways and vowed to spy on more straight couples, and not just Fluttershy.
Every nerve ending twanged and shrieked, as she prodded her captive out of the bush with fierce nuzzles and little kisses. It was so cute! But it had to run, with her, before they were spotted.
Sneaking through town, her eyes scanning the windows for onlookers, her ears anxiously picking up a rich spectrum of squeals and moans. It seemed all Ponyville preferred to celebrate Essence and Fern Gully in privacy. It also seemed they found their departed kindred well worth celebrating.
Up the Ponyville street, shielding the little changeling from view with her own body, successfully making it all the way to her house where it was safe. Rushing in the door, slamming it behind them, locking it, sharing an unguarded hug of sheer relief (for the changeling seemed to understand its danger) and then scampering, like two children, out of the room and around the corner into the corridor that held her escape chute and the secret lair. Sweetie Drops’ eyes sang with delight and relief as she looked back at her new friend, trustingly following her to a lasting safety in the depths of her concealed secret agent basement. She turned to look where she was going…
And smacked straight into Mayor Mare herself, coming the other way with an anxious look that turned to utter shock as she saw her lover’s strange companion. Sweetie gasped, horrified. The little changeling froze in its tracks, panicking, not daring even to look at Mayor Mare, well and truly trapped with nowhere at all to run.
“Can I try that again?” said Sweetie Drops, futilely. “You weren’t supposed to see us.”