Beat to Feet Meat
You have never felt this anxious before. The temperature of the treehouse with its open windows and the surprisingly spacious interior was understandably lukewarm, even in spring yet you couldn’t stop sweating bullets. This was made all the more unusual due to the fact you were entirely naked, your clothing piled in a clump in the corner. You sat cross-legged with a rug under your buttocks, saving your manly hide from unwanted splintering.
How did you arrive in this situation? It was a blur. The memory was hardly able to take shape despite how recent the events were. Three mouths, six eyes, yellow; orange; white. Your gaze was averted from them, focusing on the floor with an unsteady gaze, trying your hardest to remain like a statue before them. Not as something to admire, like an ornament but as a possum – wanting to avoid being set upon by ravenous mouths. Your cheeks had been rosy red ever since you took your position adjacent to them; their three bottoms sat upon a very large and very old toy box. The longer you sat the more sunken your eyes felt, your hands clenching against your thighs as the realisation of what you had done began to weigh down on your curled back.
“Let us see it already!” Scootaloo demanded, her voice impatient.
“He’ll show us when he’s ready.” Sweetie Belle spoke gently as she chided her.
“Ah dunno. He has been sitting there for a while,” Applebloom murmured loudly, partly agreeing with her orange friend.
You allowed your eyes to drift upwards, only slightly. A row of bare feet hung limply from three pairs of legs. You felt your heart quicken at the sight. You couldn’t help it. Scootaloo’s were the most active, the impatient mare playing footsie with herself, curling her toes in a display you couldn’t help but find titillating. She had the smallest of her friends. Applebloom had the largest from a glance, hardened from farm-work yet deceptively smooth and alluring. Sweetie sat in the middle of her friends. Her feet were the most dainty and well cared for, visibly soft with toenails painted lilac. A stolen glance at her soles revealed no wrinkles except when they curled in anxious waiting.
Their feet weren’t the only things bared to you. Your reluctant eyes trailed upwards, tracing their naked legs – each mare having closed them for the sake of decency. Their stomachs were flat, your eyes slowed when going over their chests, unable to help yourself. Scootaloo was the only one not covering herself, leaning slightly backwards on her arms. She was the lithest of them and least bountiful in the bosom area, her small orange mounds capped with a nipple several degrees darker than the rest of her. She was shameless or particularly apathetic to your gaze. Applebloom was the polar opposite of her sporty cohort, having ballooned tits that looked relieved to be free of a t-shirt. Her crossed arms failed to entirely cover herself, failing to hide the edges of her areola; their colour a dark yellowy-green. Lastly, Sweetie struck a middle ground. Her palm fitting breasts – coincidently covered only by her hands – displayed a subdued sort of beauty, befitting of her pronounced femininity compared to the mares flanking her. You suspected her average peaks were capped with grey nipples, although you couldn’t be entirely sure until they were on full display.
Finally, you met their faces. To their credit and your relief, you didn’t see so much judgement in their eyes but intrigue instead. The three mares were as curious as they were insistently helpful. Even Sweetie, who had thus far displayed the most reservedness, continued to gawk and stare at you with her emerald eyes; leaning against her companions every so often to scan your naked form. Applebloom’s eye wandered between you and her friends. Scootaloo looked… irked, to say the least. You couldn’t help but gauge each of them differently, even if they often acted as one in most matters. They were shorter than you were but your perception of them had changed from a trio of attractive young mares to sky-scraping giants – gods effectively, ready to pass judgement on your perversions…
Hyperbole? Maybe. But looking upon their faces you remembered with stark clarity how you ended up here. The question they asked that put you on a downward spiral towards this situation…
‘Anon, do you have a marefriend?’
“C’mon already, Anon. Show us your dick!” exclaimed Scootaloo. Meeting her impatient eyes was what set her off. “We’ve been forever.”
“That’s a gross exaggeration.” Was Sweetie’s mild manned input – prompting an eye-roll from her winged friend – although she didn’t fight Scoot’s point any further. It was obvious to you that she also wanted to see.
“Well, maybe he ain’t hard yet, like a stallion taking a whizz,” added Applebloom, voice twanging with an accent and half-shrugging – although her face betrayed a certain measure of pride at the suggestion. “It don’t matter how it looks if we’re not seeing all of it. ‘Thing could be as long as my pinkie when soft.”
“True...” Sweetie concurred, looking at you with pursed lips and a subtle blush. “Do you need us to look away? Give you a moment?”
“What are we here for if he gets a stiffy by himself?” argued Scootaloo, scoffing. Before either Sweetie or Applebloom could get a clarification of her statement, you were suddenly hooked by Scootloo’s gaze. Her purple eyes, often fierce with determination were now fierce with something salacious. After your eyes met, she suddenly outstretched one of her toned legs, presenting you the underside of her foot. Time seemed to stop, your mouth gulping back the breath forced from your lungs. If the proximity wasn’t torturous enough, she began to wiggle her toes – taunting you. The little digits certainly grabbed your attention, each nail painted in the same cerise shade as her mane. “I prettied them up for ya. This is what you like, right?”
You would have cringed at the pang of embarrassment in your belly if you weren’t so taken by the sight. It became hard to discern if the moisture on your cheeks was from sweat or unprompted tears at something so beautiful. You were like a cobra, charmed from your wicker basket by the tantalising movement. You felt yourself rising and rising... until you were at full mast, your legs spreading to give way to your hardened ‘python’.
“Hey, it worked,” you heard Applebloom comment. “Ah guess he wasn’t jokin’...”
Scootaloo chortled, circling her big toe, your eyes glued to it. “Well duh! You can’t fake being that weird,” she replied, her tone teasing, “you’re a bit of a freak, Anon.”
You half-expected Sweetie Belle to come to your defence there but a reluctant glance to her saw that the unicorn had her head tilted, brows furrowed in a look of scrutiny at your bared unit. “That’s just from feet?”
“Yeah, ah can kinda see why now he had such trouble gettin’ a marefriend – n-no offence!” Applebloom said, clumsily trying to assuage any hurt you might have taken from her words.
You were barely listening.
“He loves ‘em.” Scootaloo punctuated her remark by poking the tip of your nose with her big toe, a mischievous grin coming to her face. “You wanna prove it, Anon?”
What did she mean by that?
Your eyes caught her spreading her other leg. Slowly but surely, she revealed her treasure to you. A plump pair of dark orange pussy lips. They were taut, keeping secret the luxurious softness of her inner walls. Her ripe peach looked delicious, although your eyes kept swaying to the right, where her foot was well within the distance of your salivating mouth. What was she doing?
“Okay, Anon: choose. You can either lick my pussy or my foot – up to you,” she offered, her bold grin affixed confidently to her muzzle.
Sweetie Belle looked alarmed, her reddened cheeks brightening as doubt coupled with shock on her face. “H-hey, we said we weren’t going to go that far with-”
Before Sweetie Belle even finished speaking you had enveloped Scootaloo’s big toe. A groan vibrated up your throat, as your tongue circled it. You tasted the slight varnish on her painted nail but otherwise, you experienced a lesser form of nirvana at merely having it rest on your tongue. You let it pop free from your mouth as you indulged yourself in depravity, your flexible muscle dragging across the tips of her toes, moving in between the spaces between them.
“That t-tickles,” Scootaloo remarked, her foot trembling against your eager tongue.
“That’s disgusting,” commented Applebloom, although her eyes remained locked to the sight. You felt your dick pulse at her remark.
After you had covered her toes in revering spit, you worked on her sole. You heard her suppress giggles as you worked dragged your tongue over the sensitive underside of her foot. You didn’t taste much sweat, just flesh but it wasn’t the taste that made your cock dribble pre in its arousal. It was hard to adequately describe the warmth that filled you when handling such a seldom regarded part of the body. They entranced you, a magnet for your uncontrollable gaze. You were happy to suffer through the humiliation, the jeers and leers from naysayers. It was all worth it to feel a pretty girl’s feet against your tongue.
“You’re a dirty boy, Anon,” Scootaloo remarked, her breathing hitched.
When you opened your eyes, you saw that her palm was pushing circles into her hooded clit. She was actually enjoying herself all things considered, her flat chest rising and falling with a quickened pace. You wouldn’t be surprised to discover if she had a domination kink, which is fortuitous considering yours.
“You can start stroking your dick – slowly,” she commanded, the tone coming naturally.
Now came the fruition of their interrogation. Revealing you had no marefriend. Unable to hold back telling them why. And finally accepting their help to let off any… ’steam’. It was all for this.
Your hand coiled around your cock on her behest, your hand beginning to pump your stone hardness at a slow even pace. You heard a gasp come from Sweetie, the mare no doubt surprised by your willingness to continue. You truly lacked shame. Still, this was what you were here for.
You continued to drag your tongue up her sole, tracing your tip across her toe joints, making sure you left no part of her foot unattended. The pace of your strokes was agonising but you maintained the will to obey her. You masturbated along with Scootaloo, all the while enjoying her foot flesh against your eager tongue.
Even if her peers had an aversion to what you were doing, the lust was still palpable. You saw out of the corner of your eye a pair of blushing faces, both mares having now dropped their arms from their chest to watch you worship their friend's foot with licks and kisses.
Sweetie had her hands on her knees, enamoured with both the sight of Scootaloo plunging her nubile finger past her pussy lips and your own pumping fist. Applebloom was a bit more… immersed, however. She allowed one hand to snake slyly between her thighs, trying to hide the fact she was finger fucking her own sodden cunt - failing, obviously.
"How are you so f-fine with t-this?" Sweetie asked, grinding her thighs together.
"I'm not much of a flier. But I'm a good runner. It's about time someone appreciated these bad boys," answered Scootaloo, rolling her ankle against your tongue, swirling her big toe in your mouth.
You simply continued sucking on the twirling digit as it made a circle in your mouth, not really caring about what the other three were up too. If you just focused on her toes, then you could get onto the good stuff.
“Hey, Anon,” Scootaloo began, popping her toe from out mouth, “there are three mares here, remember?”
Applebloom widened her eyes, Sweetie simply continued to look, her feelings hidden masterfully under her expression. Without uttering a word, Sweetie Belle timidly thrust her foot forwards, almost kicking you in the face. It was hard for you to tell if she was eager, or she simply wanted to get it over with. Well, you weren’t complaining. You handled her foot gently – its soft appearance wasn’t just for looks. Under your fingers, she felt luxurious, like running velvet or silk under the tips of your fingers. You had to practice some restraint at first, limiting yourself to just a few soft kisses near her ankle and the top of her foot.
“Y-you can…” her words faltered. You feared she was going to ask you to stop. “Y-you can… lick.”
You suppressed a chuckle whilst Scootaloo released one. From Applebloom you saw her features tighten somewhat into a sneer as you licked your lips. You considered going overboard on your indulgence, as penance for almost kicking you in the face. Still, it would be a great injustice to so slovenly treat her feet. You brought your tongue forwards, dragging it across the tips of her small painted toes before raising it upwards, licking from heel across her smooth sole the ball of her foot.
She began to giggle and twitch when you covered the spaces between her toes, reacting to every small movement of your tongue. You had to hold her firmly just to give it the proper reverence it deserved, humming in delight when you finally popped her big toe into your mouth. During the whole experience, you almost forgot about your rigid cock, your twitching fuckstick practically furious at having been forgotten by your preoccupied hands.
“W-wow, you are r-really good with your tongue,” Sweetie spoke between giggle fits. “M-maybe after this we could–”
“Move on over, I wanna see the hubbub,” Applebloom interrupted her friend, pushing Sweetie aside so that she could thrust upon you her comparatively larger offering. Her pale lemon foot almost brushed against your wet lips, almost kicking you in the nose. “If you’re gonna be a weirdo you can at least prove to me you’re a committed weirdo. Now, I don’t want you to hold back. Gimme everything these girls had and more,” she spoke with an almost contemptuous sneer as you presented you her sole.
Her nails weren’t painted like her friends but it wasn’t like they were subject to neglect. You were quick to let your tongue lull out, you dropped any pretence of being slow and cheeky with her. You gave no mercy, snaking your tongue masterfully between her toes, tracing the folds in his skin, circling her heel, the balls of her foot, and massaging her ankles. Throughout it all she looked on in awe, her foot curling and relaxing dozens of times as the sensations of your assault drove her insane. It was too much as eventually she was forced to pull her foot away with all her might.
“Sheesh…” She said staring down at you. “Warn a girl next time… freak.”
“Damn, he’s like a faucet down there,” Scootaloo commented with a chortle.
You winced. Your cock could cut through a diamond, each vein plump and pronounced with piping hot blood, your tip leaking with ceaseless pre. If you had kept stroking you would have popped by now. Gingerly, you reached for your rock hard cock.
“Hey!” Scootaloo exclaimed, causing you to jump. “Who gave you permission?”
You did. That’s what you wanted to reply.
“You came to us to help you get off but a degenerate like you doesn’t deserve our holes. He’s only good enough to be smothered under our feet…” Scootaloo spoke knowingly, a vicious edge to her words that made your body stiffen… all of your body. “Lay on your back... freak.”
You obeyed immediately, not a single trace of hesitation in your bones. Your dick stood up like a turgid monolith of erotica, your rock-hard flesh painfully hard; crying precum.
Sweetie stared at your pulsing dick. “So t-this is the part–”
“He cleans up,” interrupted Applebloom, her foot planting itself on your tensed thigh.
You started chewing on your lip. Of the three mares one remained silent, the one who decided to act first.
Scootaloo’s saliva covered foot reached out, her toes spreading and allowing the tip of your bulbous rod to slide through the empty space between her big toe and the one next to it. You throbbed against her touch, the ball of her foot pushing down against your length until she smothered it against yourself, softly crushing your rock hard cock until moans helplessly sounded from your throat. She stroked down your meat utilising her toes. She was dexterous at handling your pole and you would have been content with just her machinations. But, lucky you, Applebloom began to make herself known.
Her foot pressed down on your sack. Not enough to hurt, mind you, but enough to apply just the right amount of pressure. She lightly squeezed and prodded, enough to provoke your eager swimmers to slosh and roil. You couldn’t help but curl your toes like a chaste girl undergoing her first sexual experience.
“You like it when I crush your balls, degenerate?” the farm-mare growled at you, the ball of her foot squeezing down to punctuate her remark.
You couldn’t even nod to answer, too taken aback by the two feet playing with your junk. So taken in fact, that you didn’t notice Sweetie’s foot snake timidly down towards your rod. As Scootaloo ran the arch of her foot down your shaft, Sweetie’s went towards the tip of your cock, softly massaging circles on your twitching tip. The sublime softness of her touch made your whole body twitch. Her clumsy smothering of your crown was amateurish yet unmatched in terms of pleasure. You could barely crack open an eye to see the small, almost proud smile she wore as her big toe circled traced circles on your frenulum.
You couldn’t take much more. The three filly’s feet were uncoordinated in their movements but despite this having three perfect feet smother and work your meat was hard to describe as anything other than euphoric. Yet something was stopping you from blowing your whole load. Frustration coupled with pleasure. Your thighs twitched like a dead toad, your cock painfully red…
“Cum,” commanded Scootaloo, her foot easing up from your base.
That did it.
With a grunt and a throaty moan, you gave in. Your hips thrust upwards against their soles, your balls flexing as you prepared to shoot out all of your pent up jizz in several gratifying ropes. Your dick pulsed once, then twice, empty shots. Then, you twitched again, cumming. You spewed white ropes of thick human seed all over the three ladies’ soles. Even Applebloom, who actively tried to avoid getting some of your sticky essences on her, wasn’t able to avoid the few pearls of sperm landing on her toes.
After what felt like an eternity, your body fell limp. Your moans had become pants as laid there on the treehouse floor. The three mares withdrew their feet from you. Applebloom was cringing, Scootaloo wore a satisfied grin whilst Sweetie hid her expression beneath her fringe.
“The cutie mark crusaders help yet another citizen in need,” Scootaloo joked, chuckling to herself.
“Was that… good?” Sweetie asked you, wiggling her toes, your jizzism forming a few thin strings over them.
You could only give her a weak nod, drifting away to sleep.
“Good,” Applebloom remarked, petulant. A few moments later, you felt her foot press down on your chest, a line of sticky white stuff going down from her ankle to her toes. “‘Cause you’re on cleanin’ duty!”