Rough Rider

“Slow down, honey,” pleaded Flight Lightning. “Start over. What happened?”

Scootaloo took a big breath. “It’s Dad! It’s Braeburn! He’s gone!”

Flight Lightning wasn’t often motherly… but she’d learned. She hugged Scootaloo, and shook her, the latter being more like her usual reactions. “No he’s not! What, he didn’t come back yet? You know he’s always chasing mares and the occasional stallion, but I promise, he’ll come home…”

“No, he won’t because his house is smashed flat!”

Flight Lightning gasped. “WHAT? Did you help him? What happened to it? Scootaloo, good job going and getting help but are you sure…”


“Are you sure you didn’t leave him there, did you check? What do you mean, smashed flat?”

Scootaloo glowered. “All the walls kicked down, that’s what. MOM! Listen!”

“But… well, Braeburn, he gets up to some mischief, but Ponyville’s a nice town, Scootaloo! Who would attack Braeb…”

“MOM!” yelled Scootaloo. She took a breath.

“From the INSIDE…”

Flight Lightning froze. She’d almost forgotten that about Braeburn. He’d seemed so well adjusted to life in Ponyville, near one of his mares and available to his half-pegasus daughter. It was almost possible to forget he was a notorious outlaw who vanished on the wind at the first sign of confinement. You almost couldn’t believe he’d ever been the untameable heartbreaker.


“Shit,” said Flight Lightning. She began to pace, turning to and fro. “Shit! We’d better get going. Were there any clues?”

“Not there!” said Scootaloo.

“Spill it, kid. Fast. What do you know?”

“His house is just flat,” said Scootaloo. “Kicked down from the inside, he must have been really upset. That’s not the clue. We just saw DJ Pon-3 and Octavia leave town. They’re going on tour, they were sailing out of Manehattan to Neighpon. And you know who was their roadie? Big Macintosh.”

“No kidding?” said Flight Lightning. “Yeah, and you know he’s real tight with Brae… yeah. Yeah! I think you’re on to something, Scoots!”

“And not only that,” said Scootaloo, “Braeburn acted weird that day, AND Rarity acted funny too!”

“Funny how?” demanded Flight Lightning.

“She was bidding him farewell in this totally over-the-top way! And then she ran off and hid in her boutique and wouldn’t come out! And do you remember when that Kirin…”

“…from Neighpon…” both said…

“…came to town? And you know who was shackin’ up with her? Not our Braeburn,” said Scootaloo, “but Big Macintosh! And what…”

“Ah, shit!” said Flight Lightning, trotting in place. “I get you! What if he’s not coming back? Fuck! Sorry. Actually never mind, this calls for it. Fuck! I’m way ahead of you, Scoots. Brae’s chasing Big Macintosh. I’m sure of it. We gotta go after him! I don’t know what good it will do but his world is not just made up of one overly-thick farm horse. He’ll come to his senses… I hope. But we gotta catch him, reason with him. If he thinks he’s losing Big Macintosh to a Neighponnese magic-filly the least he needs is a hug, and it might help for ponies he loves to talk to him. We gotta catch him!”

“I can’t fly across the ocean,” said Scootaloo.

“I fucking can,” said Flight Lightning. “I’m about to. I’ll carry you, we’ve done that before.”

“But what about Sweetie Belle?” said Scootaloo. “She goes where I go.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Flight Lightning, appalled. “Scoots, you’re getting so big it’ll be a hell of a thing even to carry just you across a whole damn ocean. I’m only saying it because we’ve got to go and we’ve got to go fast and I think I can just about manage it, and I can spot a boat on the ocean and he can’t hide that. We might just have a chance if we catch him before he makes landfall. But there’s no way I can carry both you and Sweetie B…”

Galloping pony hooves drew up, outside. The door was still open. “In there!” came Sweetie’s voice.

Through the door came Rainbow Dash, with Sweetie riding on her back.

“What’s going on? I’ve never seen Sweetie Belle run so fast. I helped her get where she was going. Hey, look at you. Are you okay?”

Flight Lightning gulped, looking grim. “We’ve been better, Dash. There’s a problem.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We think Braeburn’s run away to Neighpon. He kicked down his house and he’s gone. We’ve seen it before. When he’s at his full sneakiness, nopony can catch him.”

Slowly, very slowly, Rainbow Dash began to smirk.

“Wanna bet?” she said.

Nighttime at the Neighponnese port of Kabochaebi was quiet. Ponies who’d been carousing all night had staggered off to their cozy homes, to sleep the sleep of the formerly-wicked and wake up bright-eyed and covered in somepony else’s recycled rice-cider.

Waves lapped quietly against the dock, the shore, the beach.

Among them, other sounds, sounds just like waves, sounds no louder than those gentle waves… sounds that nopony would imagine signified a visitor to Neighpon’s shores.

Braeburn’s eyes peered across the water, from around the edge of the boat.

It might seem odd, for pony eyes to appear at water level when a perfectly serviceable boat was available. But a pony riding a boat aground might make some sort of scrunching noise that would carry. And a pony jumping out of a boat might make a splash, little or big, and be silhouetted against the moon reflecting off those gentle ocean waves.

A pony that had lowered himself into the chilly water very slowly, and swum to shore towing the boat silently along with him, would make no splash and no silhouette.

Braeburn was not about to be dissuaded from entering Neighpon, nor interfered with on his mission.

With smooth, stealthy motions, he reached the shore and silently lifted the boat up to rest it on the beach. His ears twisted this way and that, listening for listeners. His eyes were reddened, not entirely from the salty seawater.

He froze. There was something, hundreds of yards away. He peered around the boat, in the embracing darkness, just barely altering its silhouette enough to use his dark-adjusted eyes, ears laid back against his head to conceal them.

Luminous. Wispy. Some kind of light.


Braeburn barely breathed. His expression turned grim. That thing might sense him. He reckoned however he described his business, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense to any sort of police or guardpony, and Kirin were a fancy sort of guardpony, weren’t they? He meant Neighpon no harm, but he was damned if it was going to stand in his way, and instinctively he felt this attitude couldn’t possibly work with the Kirin. They were strange, powerful magic creatures, and he was just an earth pony stallion from Appleloosa.

Braeburn’s brows lowered. They had some tricks in Appleloosa. Well… he had, anyhoof.

He controlled his breathing with fierce determination, though his heart pounded with fear… and he took action, in the dark and silent night.

Very slowly, Braeburn walked out of the lapping waves, onto the beach to the side of his boat. He dug his hooves in, and twisted and worked them, right by the boat… and then, in slow motion, ears perked in terror, he walked silently up the beach. It was nearly too dark to see, but the Kirin probably had no such problem, consarned magic-critters that they were. His lip curled in frustration… but he wasn’t out of tricks yet. He snuffled at the ground as he went, and then got a small rock between his lips, along with some sand for his troubles.

Braeburn continued to walk until he felt the beginnings of grass under his hooves. Then, his skin crawling with tension, he reversed himself, and he stepped carefully backwards in his tracks, all the way to the boat. He saw that the waves had already begun to erode where he’d dug in his hooves, and smiled a little around the small rock held in his mouth.

And he kept on backing up, into the sea, until he was swimming quietly out away from the shore, still watching that alarming hint of luminescence that meant a magical guardian-type creature fixing to catch him and ask him inconvenient questions. Back further and further Braeburn went, until he judged he was about as far away as he dared.

Kicking his hooves, he rose in the water as well as he could, balancing the small rock on his right forehoof.

One convulsive kick, and he went still and quiet and sank into the waves, his eyes barely above the surface of the water, and Braeburn waited. Three… two…

A sharp clunk told him that his rock had found its target, the boat. He sank lower, as well as he could. Going fully underwater was tempting, but he had to see. He compromised, staying so low that he could barely glimpse the shore. His heart jolted, and he re-evaluated in a big hurry…

A beautiful creature, glowing at its mane and strange curled-back horn and fetlocks and tailtip, had walked over and was studying the boat.

Braeburn struggled to stay low. He swore the damn critter was looking out to sea, though it was only brief distorted glimpses he permitted himself. His eyes were slits. He reminded himself, if it made any sort of bright light, eyes closed and stay closed until the light stops. No reflecting lights in outlaw pony eyes, not from ol’ Braeburn…

At first he suspected, then he was sure. It had turned. Braeburn rose a little farther out of the water, peering shoreward. The Kirin had definitely turned away. What’s more, it was studying the beach. No, better… the Kirin was studying the tracks he’d made! It wandered curiously up the beach, following the hoofprints, and reached the grass.

Braeburn cringed back beneath the salty waves, as a bright light shone out. It was a sort of beam, and it was aimed into the town. He stayed low, as another Kirin appeared to join the first one. They talked, softly… he couldn’t make out a thing they were saying. That was possibly good, and possibly not. If there was shouting, he could expect a certain reaction…

He got it. Both Kirin headed off in the direction the hoofprints appeared to lead. They separated, taking slightly different paths, and were soon lost to sight.

Braeburn floated smugly, his eyes just above the waves, his grin safely under it.

After a while, he swam carefully to shore, and stepped up onto the beach. With ceremony, he walked up the beach in the same hoofprints he’d used twice before, and reached the safety of the grass, and looked beyond it to a grove of trees.

“Alwayth try ta thtay behind th’ pothhh-e…” he whispered to himself, faintly. Even in the absence of the Kirin, Braeburn didn’t trust his surroundings, and took pains not to pronounce ’S’es in the quiet dark of the night. His motto was barely vocalized, but it had served him one more time.

Always try to stay behind the posse.

Braeburn slowly walked into the concealing grove of trees. That was a good start. There were bad points about it: it seemed too manicured, without enough underbrush to hide him, but he’d just have to deal with that too.

Dern place was like a big garden, Braeburn thought. All them trees might as well be big flower arrangements.

He stopped in his tracks, tears blinding him for a moment.

“All right for… Princethh…” he breathed, barely audible.

It was, indeed, the right sort of place for Princess, who deserved no less.

Braeburn shook himself, setting his jaw, a grim look in his tearful eyes, and in a silence as deep as the night, he proceeded onward.

The next morning was bright. The next town was friendly, excited to be visited by traveling musicians. The next gig was a huge success, with Octavia bringing the townsponies to tears with the intimacy of her bow, and then working them up with the sensuality of her compositions… and then, DJ Pon-3 filled the town with throbbing bass, and Big Macintosh’s eyes widened to see how wantonly the Neighponnese ponies danced and ground upon each others’ bodies.

It was his first chance to check out the audience, as he’d kept very busy before the gig, making up for previous indiscretions by staying constantly active with the PA set-up. Octavia and Vinyl had been appreciative, though their personalities diverged: pre-performance, Octavia became emotionally engaged, even getting a hug from Big Macintosh and praising his efforts with the PA. By contrast, Vinyl Scratch started out in an encouraging vein, but as her hour approached, she retreated behind those rose-colored shades and a studied, stagey coolness that was oddly aggressive. She wasn’t unkind, but she seemed to ascend some private mountain, the better to tap into her bass drops and butt-shaking beats.

There was no doubting the result. DJ Pon-3 turned a town of eager ponies into an orgiastic bacchanal of beats. Big Macintosh could feel the waves of adulation directed up at the little Neighponnese expatriate, returned home to lay the boogie down. And as the dancing progressed, DJ Pon-3 never lost her cool… but the audience got hotter and hotter.

When she released them, half the stallions had huge boners, and half the mares had wet streaks down the inside of their thighs. And all the ponies had huge grins… and unmistakeable come-hither looks.

Truly, music was a powerful force.

Big Macintosh was watching the eager ponies drag each other off into the bushes in twos and sometimes threes or fours, and he was thinking about Hina. Surely, she would appreciate him deepening their relationship by using some nice unicorn mare… or stal… mare, anyway, to feed his beloved? It would be like cooking a delicious meal for her. His well-honed skills standing at stud must surely help him. And maybe, perhaps, keeping in practice might not be such a bad idea…

“Hey!” came a voice. He turned, and saw a jet-black pegasus mare, her wings stiffly erect, eyeing him.

“Um… hello?”

“You’re not from around here,” she said, teasingly.


“Come with me,” said the pegasus mare. She was dressed in a strange, pointy, angled costume, and her attitude was one of effortless command.

“What for?” said Big Macintosh. “Am Ah in trouble, ma’am?”

She turned, staring at him and smirking. “Maybe I am. I hope so! Don’t be silly. Come and have sex!”

“Uhh… okay!” said Big Macintosh, obligingly. He glanced back where he’d last seen Octavia. He saw her giving him a victorious hoof-pump and a wink, not with her marehood but still rather suggestive. It seemed he was off duty.

Big Macintosh, wide-eyed, followed his unnamed black pegasus mare in her fierce costume as she led him away into the town.

“Thankee kindly,” said Big Macintosh, “nice place y’got h… aw sweet Celestia!”

He cowered back, to the astonishment of his would-be mare. “What is the matter with you?” she exclaimed.

“Nothin’ yet, ma’am, and Ah’d like to keep it that way!”

The little house was open plan with large archways between rooms, befitting a flying pony occupant. The bedroom was spacious, with a high ceiling, likewise appropriate for a pegasus. Upon entering the house, she’d flown up and thrown off her imposing pointy costume in a flurry of loop-de-loops, appropriate for a horny pegasus. All that wasn’t a problem.

The outrageous assembly of trusses, winches and cables seemed more appropriate for Rarity’s inner sanctum, and Big Macintosh hadn’t bargained on anything like that. He stared at the black pegasus, eyes wide and panicky.

She stamped the floor, and stuck out her lower lip. “Don’t be such a baby! I should be far more worried than you. Of course instead I am very excited, but who could blame me? You have no such excuse!”

Big Macintosh gulped, eyeing the springs and pulleys. “Other than gittin’ trussed up by a crazy horny pony what I don’t even know her name? Beggin’ your pardon ma’am but I was imagining somethin’ different.”

She blinked at him. “Name? I am Tobi, of course. Tobikomimasu. See, on my flank, the cutie mark of a target? I thought all ponies knew about me.”

“Ah’m Big Macintosh and I ain’t never heard about you. I’m not from around here,” said Big Macintosh, “an’ I’m not sure what a target cutie mark has ta do with… listen, ma’am, them things probably ain’t even STRONG enough to hold up a Ponyville earth pony in the air. At least not one like me.”

“Tell me more about you,” crooned Tobi, trotting over and rubbing against him. “Strong, did you say? Mmmmm.”

“I ain’t had no complaints… hey!” said Big Macintosh. “You sure you should be doin’ that?”

She was fondling his body with her wings. She blinked, again. “They’ll see worse. Mmmmm! I want to see your penis. Is it mighty?”

“Mighty close to runnin’ the buck outta here!”

Tobikomimasu sat down with a gentle squelch, looking dismayed. “No! Don’t flee! Talk to me, why do you say such strange things, Big Macintosh? What even is a Macintosh?”

“Kind of apple,” explained Big Macintosh. “An’ it’s funny you should be tellin’ ME about strange things! An’ I’ve seen some mighty strange things in my day, Miss Tobi! Do you mind explainin’ what you mean to do with all that foofaraw?” He gestured to the harnesses and cables and pulleys and brackets.

Tobi blinked. “You are so disconcerting! You really don’t know. Those guide me, Big Macintosh.”

“Ah reckon Rarity woulda said the same thing,” said Big Macintosh, “but what they guided her TO was even more disconcertin’ at the time…”

“What’s a Rarity?” asked Tobi. She shook herself, with a rustle of wings. “Never mind! Sit there and watch. I’ll show you!”

Big Macintosh didn’t entirely follow her directions. Instead, he cringed back slightly as she rose, but soon he was gawking in complete astonishment, as he watched the pegasus mare’s preparations for sex.

The very first thing she did was loop a peculiar, knobbly chain over her wing. Big Macintosh had been eyeing it the whole time and vowing that if it went toward his dick, he wasn’t going to stop running until at least the next town. His jaw dropped as he saw what Tobi was doing with it. There were two of them. She’d wrapped them around her wing bases in such a way that they’d tighten.

“Ma’am,” said Big Macintosh seriously. “You lookin’ to foal with th’ stud from Ponyville?”

She recoiled, raising a forehoof. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, pegasus wings ain’t for idly messin’ with…”

Tobi relaxed, with a laugh. “Don’t be silly! You are such a strange horse, knowing nothing of Neighpon! I’ve seen the Kirin, my duty is glory and not foals.”

Big Macintosh’s ears were laid back. “Soooo… pegasi ain’t the same in Neighpon? No offense, ma’am. Back where I come from, what you’re doin’ there might cause a perty big reaction.”

The black pegasus was serene again, fussing with hoof-cuffs on her forehooves as the other cables ran neatly under her folded wings. “I don’t know your different pegasi. And I am Tobikomimasu. I am known for big reactions.” She glanced up at him. “Promise me this one thing! If you are frightened and flee me, you must go and get help.”

Big Macintosh’s ears laid back even more. “T’ain’t exactly reassuring.”

“Not for you, for me!” replied Tobi. She shook herself, and took a deep breath. “I am ready. Press the button!”

“Whut button?”

“That button,” she said, and pointed a hoof towards a big red button on the floor, by a peculiar seat.

Big Macintosh stepped toward it, and looked again. The whole area was stained. Nervously, he inspected the seat and button for bloodstains, but the residue seemed… clearer. He bent down to sniff it, and his nostrils flared. Eyup! Mare juice.

He glanced up at Tobikomimasu. She bit her lip, shivering, and nodded.

Big Macintosh stepped on the button, and all cabley hell broke loose.

With a rattling whoosh, pulleys raced upwards, cables tightened, the room seemed to transform into a kinky web of suspension harnesses centered around the form of the pegasus Tobikomimasu. Her forelegs stretched one way, she lifted off the ground… but anyone who knew pegasi knew that wasn’t what made Tobi whinny wildly, her eyes rolling back in her head.

The cables behind her yanked taut, and the knobbly choke-chains fiercely grabbed her by both wing bases at once, lifting her by them. For a moment, she could only writhe and squeal. Big Macintosh’s eyes dropped down. Her pony nipples were hard as rocks, and her pussy winked frantically, adding a little more mare juice to the extensive collection on the floor. His eyes rose, to see her splayed wings groping stiffly at the air, trembling so hard her feathers rattled.

“Dang, Miss Tobi,” said Big Macintosh, impressed. “Ya sure you need me?”

Her tail thrashed. She drew a shuddering breath, then another.

“Get in the seat,” ordered Tobikomimasu.

Big Macintosh began to grin. This promised to be a high-air mark for pegasus extremeness, and he wasn’t exactly inexperienced. “Yes’m,” he said, sternly repressing the temptation to tease her. If anything, he thought, he’d have to be quick, because she’d surely get off just dangling there. But then, mares didn’t work quite like stallions. If you remembered your tricks, they could keep going and going and going…

Tobikomimasu didn’t see the slight fretful look on Big Macintosh’s face, as she was too distracted by the bold gnawing sensations wresting her wingbases into position. Nevertheless, he clambered into the unusual seat almost as if some wise cowpony were instructing him to take care of the pretty, frantic mare properly. He even hastily clopped himself, turning a burgeoning stallion erection into a mighty pillar.

“Here ya go,” he encouraged. “Mare-tested, Princess-approved! This’ll set you right.”

Tobi shivered wildly as she guided herself onto him. At first, she didn’t fit, but with ears laid back and a squeal of determination, she wedged Big Macintosh’s flare into herself and rested, panting. It was the oddest thing Big Macintosh had ever experienced, because normally if a mare on top of him got wobbly and melty, she’d sink down and penetrate herself from her own weight. Pegasi were very light, but Tobikomimasu was nearly weightless because she was suspended from forelegs and wing bases.

Big Macintosh nuzzled her fluffy, heaving chest. Helpfully, he wrapped his forelegs around her, and with gentle tugs, he settled her lower, feeling his stiffness penetrate deeper and deeper as she cried out breathless whinnies of desire.

“Uhmmm!” he moaned, feeling her lively rump press gently against his crotch. “That’s th’ way. Ya did it! You took a whole Ponyville pony.” He tensed his nether regions, swelling his girth just to feel her shudder and hear her squeal, his face pressed against the side of her chest. He stroked her mane. “Good girl…”

“Let go!” begged Tobikomimasu.

“Whut?” blinked Big Macintosh.

She shook her head to clear it. “Don’t hold me down! Unhhhh! Let me be Tobikomimasu, hold onto the seat! Trust me!”

Big Macintosh boggled at this request. But… it wasn’t the first time he’d been with an opinionated, bossy mare, and he figured he’d seen enough that little could shock him.

So, he leaned back, released Tobikomimasu to hover upon his stallionhood, and he reached back with his forehooves to hold tight to the seat, even though he was a massive farm horse and unlikely to fly out of it anytime soon. And he watched… and his eyes widened, bit by bit.

Tobikomimasu bared her pretty little teeth. She wriggled, squirming in a curious way atop him, twisting her pelvis. Big Macintosh had time to notice that she was a slippery, juicy little pegasus… and then it went beyond an observation, to a deeply significant fact.

“Hey!” blurted Big Macintosh, for Tobikomimasu was bobbing vigorously on top of him, her wings jittering and rattling in delicious little spasms, splayed by the suspending cables and those fierce, knobbly harness points. Her tail thrashed, and she snarled with pleasure, for she was taking him exceptionally rough.

“Ahh!” she squealed, but when Big Macintosh released the chair and reached up to steady her, she glared fretfully at him. “Arato! Do not let go, Big Macintosh! You could sprain this wonderful cock!”

Big Macintosh gulped, and under her critical gaze, he desisted and hung onto the chair again.

“Do you need to adjust?” asked Tobikomimasu. “Are you comfortable? Great forces are at play. You must present a stable base.”

“Never heard it called that!” replied Big Macintosh, his ears back. “Y’call this play, do ya?”

At that, Tobikomimasu began to smile a partly-wicked, partly-transcendent smile. “No, Big Macintosh. This is glory… and I am honored.” She licked her lips with a cute little tongue. “Deeply honored.”

“Eyup. Ah noticed!”

“Oh, not yet,” crooned the quivering pegasus. “Not yet, you haven’t.”

She gave him another hard look, and Big Macintosh lay back in the chair, holding on determinedly, and stuck out his lower lip in a cranky pout. “Ah kin take it,” he said, “you go on an’ have your fun, now. Got to admit it feels gosh dern amazin’.”

“Not yet, it doesn’t,” returned Tobikomimasu, with that naughty smile.

“Prove it,” parried Big Macintosh.

She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and wriggled again, and he could feel her yielding pussy gripping onto him with tender earnestness, a parting squeeze before she resumed her operations.

“Like that?” asked Big Macintosh. “Is that th’ way of it? Gonna go all pinchy? That kin be a treat…”

“Sh! No. Be still. You are so large. I must focus.”

And she did, as Big Macintosh watched. She wriggled her hips again. She wriggled her wings, allowing the knobbly chains to seize her just a little more fiercely, baring her teeth in pleasure again… and she focussed, concentrating her efforts as she began to bob upon him once more.

Not to clench… but to relax.

Big Macintosh’s eyes widened. That was different. Not that he was a stranger to it… there had been mares, for instance Fluttershy, who got into an extremely relaxed state. He’d still feel the pressure of their bodies, but he’d be able to cavort inside them pretty vigorously if he was careful.

Tobikomimasu wasn’t careful, but she was melting around him like nothing he’d ever experienced. She seemed to lubricate in bucketfuls, and the sensation was eerily like he was turning her to liquid… very happy liquid, from the sounds of it, but he’d not experienced anything so yielding inside a mare. She’d sink down until she nearly ground into his crotch, then lift way up to where his increasingly enthusiastic flare threatened to pull free of her, and then down she went again, with a tremble or a squeal, those wings twisting against their harsh restraints. Big Macintosh wondered what that even did to you, if you were a pegasus mare. What madness would it drive you to, being suspended by such a fierce bitey grip on both your wings?

“Erk!” went Big Macintosh, and hastily quieted himself for fear he’d be scolded. His question had been answered nearly the instant it had been asked. He directed all his attention to holding perfectly still, his cock throbbing with audacious hardness.

Tobikomimasu had achieved lift-off. Using the combination of her partly immobilized wings, her own momentum, and the elaborate harness, her eager thrusts onto him had expanded to the point where, with a loud juicy pop, she was pulling entirely off of Big Macintosh’s scandalized cock… and then, slamming down with perfect aim to impale herself upon it. She began to wail, but it wasn’t any louder than the noises her body made from this treatment: Big Macintosh boggled, motionless and rigid, for he’d never even contemplated treating a mare this way, especially at his girth. He could see he was all flared out. She didn’t seem to care. Her body was like jelly, even while she guided her fierce plunges with flicks of wing. She screamed ecstatically, not even slowing down. Squelch… squelch… squelch…

Big Macintosh flared harder, and he gritted his teeth, feeling his orgasm coming on strong. It didn’t stop her. The squelches got louder, prying her jelly-ized vagina absurdly wide with every violent plunge deeply into her. He held absolutely still, while she hammered herself onto him with steadily building frenzy, her squeals turning to earsplitting shrieks, and even in this she somehow maintained control: even as her orgiastic cries hurt the ears, they built smoothly to that point, her thunderous spasming never causing her to tense up or pinch onto him. Tobikomimasu plunged again and again, impossibly loose and yielding, taking on Big Macintosh’s flare right up to the moment of…


Covered in mare juice, glistening and slick and pumped up to the ultimate scandalous bulging peak of stiffness, Big Macintosh’s cock let go and blasted Tobikomimasu. Not inside her: with a huge surge, he blasted her whole crotch and breasts and the dock of her tail with horsecome, and then even as he did, she plunged down onto him with a cry of lawless ecstacy, and up she went again, and he was still coming and an arc of semen sailed into the air to splatter on the floor, and then plunge and another rope of come fired into her warm wet pussy insides, only to dump right out again as she soared up, and just as Big Macintosh began to wonder in alarm if she proposed to keep going forever, Tobikomimasu screamed, “NOW! Now!”

And she dropped down onto his erection with a brutal scrunch, her wings spasming so hard that feathers flew off of them, and cried, “Hold me, hold me tight!”

Big Macintosh did so, privately wishing she’d gone over her plans with him in advance. Had she not noticed that he’d come all over her undercarriage already?

But it wasn’t that. Things became more clear by the second. Tobikomimasu pressed down as hard as she could, and cautiously, Big Macintosh helped, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her deeper onto his just-fired cannon.

“EEEEE!” squealed the frantic black pegasus, her body shaking violently in his embrace, and she nuzzled against his neck as if possessed by fire spirits or pink demons, and while securely jammed onto the cock that had been plunging her, she at last gave way to unbridled climaxes. All coordination lost, she thrashed and clenched upon him and cut loose with incoherent screams, a peak that went on and on. There was still a jelly-quality to her vagina and she didn’t have nearly the clenchy-fierceness of other mares, but that seemed hardly surprising. Big Macintosh was privately amazed that she didn’t walk around with a hoof-wide hole in her all the time, given the kind of fun she seemed to crave.

Slowly, her spasms subsided. Big Macintosh petted her mane, beyond words.

Finally, he found some, looking at her wings. They twitched, still locked in the cruel grip of those knobbly chains, and he thought it looked painful.

“Kin I loose ya? From them things, Ah mean. Ah would kinda like to keep a’cuddlin ya, on account of that was for sure amazin’.”

Tobikomimasu croaked weakly, “Button… again.”

His rear hoof could just about stretch over, and with a sharp kick, the button was pushed… and all the cables and pulleys released at once, falling with a clatter and slither to the floor.

Big Macintosh tenderly tugged at the knobbly chains with his teeth, until they untangled and fell away from Tobikomimasu’s poor thrashed wings. He marveled, as he felt his dick subside and ease its harsh occupation of her surprisingly-capacious pussy. He nuzzled one black wing, so light in the manner of pegasus wings, so frazzled and disheveled after the performance she’d put on… and so untouchable and forbidden, in his experience.

Hesitantly, with a sense of deep wonder, Big Macintosh nuzzled her wing again, where it had been boldly crunched in a cruel grip. Every part of her was utterly relaxed and sated. He closed his lips upon her wing shank, and she didn’t resist or object. Reflectively, he tugged an ebony feather. Tobikomimasu was so completely drained that she didn’t even twitch at this act, which would be so unthinkable to any Ponyville pegasus.

Of course, to them it meant pregnancy. Her world seemed to use different rules. And so, she’d tapped into every erotic trigger she had, along with some strange discipline he’d never felt from a mare, to sexually bash herself into a quivering splat of a pegasus upon his giant Ponyville cock.

Maybe she’d need to go see the Kirin. He tried to peek under her to see if he’d done physical damage, but having sated herself she had collapsed against his crotch with the full weight of a totally limp pony. His erection had subsided, but even before that was true, she’d gone to the absolute hilt and as far beyond as she could shove. She’d done things to herself he would never do to a mare, not in a thousand years, and had seemingly got away with it.

Big Macintosh hugged her again, provoking a feeble croon. He tried to look in her eyes, though they were really glazed.

“Why?” he asked. “Why ya take it so dang hard, Tobi?”

She nuzzled against his neck with the power of a kitten sleeping in a sunbeam, and just as much satisfaction.

“Glory…” she managed, and then she passed out and began to snore in his embrace.

Big Macintosh sat there for quite a while, mulling it over.

“No shit, really?” asked Vinyl Scratch.

“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh, trotting placidly along in harness.

“Pulleys? Chains? Did you say on her WINGS?” pressed Scratch.

“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh.

“And she was bouncing up so high she pulled right the fuck off you, and then boom, all the way? Are you shittin’ me, Big Macintosh? I mean, that’s crazy even for one of our pegasi. Is that really true?”

“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh.

“Did she come?” teased Vinyl Scratch.


“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh.

Scratch cackled with laughter. “Baaahaha! That’s hilarious. I want to try!”

“Ya do?” said Big Macintosh, his ears quirking in surprise.

“Not with you!” Vinyl hastily corrected. “I mean, even if you were normal sized, no. I guess I’m assuming you’re not? None of my business, we’re a road crew, that’s what groupies are for. I’m glad you’re having some fun, Big Macintosh. I just mean, I’d like to play in a harness like that sometime.”

“Really, Scratchie?” chided Octavia. “I don’t think that’s wise, from how he described it.”

“Oh, yeah?” retorted Scratch.

“Unless you start practicing with the OTHER side of the barbell,” said Octavia.

“Oh. Yeah, you have a point… so, Big Macintosh, while she was doing it, did you notice her like clamping down at any point? In a way where it’d hurt her to get rammed into like that? Or was it like she just had this amazing gift for turning into a loosey-goose melty-pony who can take anything?”

“I have that gift,” said Octavia proudly. “I’m famous for it.”


“Soooo, Big Macintosh,” continued Octavia, “how exactly did she arrange these pulleys and cables?”

“You’ll crush him to DEATH,” accused Vinyl Scratch. “How hard would Stout Heart want you to bounce? Seriously. Be careful how you answer.”

Octavia pouted, frowning.

“Never tell him, ever,” she concluded, and pouted harder. “Curse it!”

Scratch gave her a little kiss. “I promise. Curse it twice! Neither of us can try it, for opposite reasons. I’m too bad at it, and you’re too good!”

“Some pegasi have all the luck,” grumbled Octavia, as the cart rolled cheerfully away over the hill and out of sight.