Zala Meets the Squad
Zala watched the burning disk of the bright Zebrican sun slip into the sky. The small zebra filly had always loved the early morning before too many of the tribe began to rouse and raise a racket. Aside from a few plumes of smoke rising from the cooking hut, and the steady *thock* *thock* *thock* of the ever-present woodcutter, the brave young mare was alone to see that glorious Zebrican sunrise.
The amber disk burnt through the haze at the edge of the horizon, little waves and rivulets of light being compressed by tricks of the atmosphere - things which the zebras of her time had never understood, attributing it instead to the mystical and miraculous properties of the celestial body - an animus that had been worshipped since time immemorial by her tribe.
’The ponies worship the Sun, too. Zala remembered. They had told her that the sun was commanded by their ruler, a Princess in their far-away land. Zala was not so easily tricked, of course... many of the Zebrican ‘kings’... really just tribal warlords… had made similar claims - claims which would be spoiled when the great disk would erratically plummet from the sky, or suddenly interchange with the moon in rapid succession… revealing the mysterious celestial object it to be far beyond their control.
In any case, Zala took the opportunity to chant a small blessing to the ever-watching Sun. She even offered one to the pony Sun-princess… she would need all the help she could get.
Zala stood up, slinging her wicker-woven basket over her short stature. She was only 18 winters old, and was smaller than any of the other mares her age. Because of this, she was often put with the younger fillies and colts, to teach them and take care of them as the more stout Zebras would make their way out to the fields to harvest, or into the savannah for the hunt. But that wasn’t the only reason… Zala was also a legendary beauty.
Ever since the previous year’s summer dance festival, handsome and powerful zebra chiefs and princes had travelled from afar to marvel at her and make offers of lands, warriors, gold, and even slaves to her tribe’s elders in exchange for the right to claim her. Zala knew it wasn’t just her beauty that drew attention - she wasn’t so vain as to believe the stories already being woven about how the Sun itself had kissed her as a filly to make her so beautiful and desirable… she knew much of the allure came from the fact she had had a memorable experience with a young lieutenant from Equestria the previous summer… and every Zebra stud wished to claim the female that had caught the eye of an Equestrian.
Zala sighed.
Her elders had rejected many of the offers out of hoof to date. Those which included warriors or slaves were right out of the question of course. Their tribe didn’t have the resources to sustain the extra mouths of hungry and troublesome warrior-colts, nor to defend against the never-ending cycle of trying to defend themselves against attacks from the tribe-mates of enslaved ponies, who would look to free their brethren… and enslave their small tribe in turn.
But the gold, food and land would soon make her forced betrothal inevitable. What was one filly’s value compared against the needs of the tribe? It was only an ancient tradition that a filly not be bred before the first full-moon of her 18th winter that had saved her thus far… a full-moon which would be occurring later this week.
Already the village was filled with potential suitors. Zala had met them all. They were an eclectic mix of zebra stallions, each with interesting stripe markings and mane-styles, which belied the distances they had travelled to meet her. Though the majority were older, fatter, uglier… there were a few handsome young chiefs and studs in the mix (though their offers were pitifully short of the older tribe-chiefs)... but it was all for naught.
Zala had no interest in zebras males any more. How could she?
Her heart had been captured long ago by the Lieutenant of the 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, Everfree Scouts Regiment… whatever that meant… Zala would chant the strange set of pony-words like an invocation - as if it might summon Lt. Lancer from her dreams. The wonderful night when they had danced, had kissed... when he had stolen her heart… could never be forgotten.
She had spent many a sunrise contemplating what she would do since that summer. And now she was resolved.
She shifted the wicker basket on her back, all of her possessions bouncing about inside. Her thick tail flicked back and forth, shooing the pesky horseflies that were beginning to rouse from the heat of the rising sun. Humming to herself the tune of a song of courage, trotted down the path she knew so well, a long game-trail that stretched miles and miles and miles… the same trail that the ponies had arrived… and left upon.
Zala paused for a moment wistfully, her heavy locks whisking over her shoulder as she looked back at her home… especially the rooftop of her family’s hut.
She wished that she could have said goodbye. Could have told them that she was leaving on the great adventure of her life. That she loved them…
But she knew what would happen. They would restrain her, stop her. Her father would do the right thing for the tribe. His daughter’s hoof would mean years of surety against flood and famine, and he had seen enough of both to know that binding his daughter and delivering her to a well-paying suitor was a fair, if difficult exchange.
She couldn’t even write them a note saying goodbye… she didn’t know how! Only one of the elders knew the ancient glyphs that adorned the clay walls of their tribal longhouse… only he could read the stories of the ancient heroes of their tribe. She wondered if she might make it onto some small corner of the tribe’s history: Zala… the filly who ran away.
Zala choked back a sob, and trotted over to a nearby tree. One she knew well. The fillies and colts of the village would often play in this tree and watch for the hunting parties to return from the savannah. Zala stepped forward with a stone she had chosen from the ground and carved into the soft bark of the old, dead acacia. She made a likeness of herself, as best she could, then an arrow pointing to a pony with wings… and a heart.
Zala considered for a moment her small pictorial… then added more. She drew one more arrow, showing the two of them returning to the village, which she represented with a few small huts.
She would return.
She’d been travelling for days on the dusty road. Always careful to hide her tracks and slide off the trail into the thickets and brush of the savannah’s highlands from time to time. She had already managed to dodge a few passing scouts from her tribe. Sprinting along the path, no doubt looking for her with keen eyes, eager to retrieve her for the tribe’s benefit.
But she had finally made it to her goal - a combat outpost (COP) of the Equestrians!
She could see the fortress of large, sand-filled blocks, their outsides covered in a mesh of metal netting to give them more support. From afar she could see a tall tower stretching up from the center of the camp. She had never seen any construction so tall before! She wondered briefly how ponies could build such a marvel, before remembering how the Equestrians had pegasi who could fly that high with ease.
Cautiously, she continued her approach toward the camp, quickly noticing the change in the surface of the trail from a small dirt path to a widened gravel and rock mixture, well trodden into the soft earth by the organized marching of the pony-soldiers. This was no uneven, ankle-twisting game path… this was… a road! She’d never seen such a thing, though the scribe-elder had described how the Zebrican kings of old had maintained a great road in the center of their country in ages past.
Zala crouched down and felt the crushed gravel suspiciously, as if she might sink into it like a quicksand trap or a bog, Easing her hoof-weight onto the road, she felt her confidence rise, and continued her trot down toward the camp. The crunch-crunch-crunch of the gravel under her hooves was incredible: she’d never heard anything like it! The road was so easy, so forgiving! She felt like she could run for days on it!
Her trot slowly picked up into a canter as she giggled. So much of the energy she was laying out with each hooffall was springing right back into her stride, propelling her at a faster and faster clip. She hardly noticed that the road she was on began to take strange ninety-degree turns near the camp, winding around strange pony-made rock barriers, as she galloped faster and faster toward the entrance to the camp, her laugh coming heartily now as she gasped with excitement.
“FREEZE!!!” A cacophony of voices burst from in front of her.
Zala’s hooves dug deeply into the ground as she finally noticed that there was an entire array of spears and arrows pointed toward her, each one manned by a fierce looking pony. The little filly ground to a halt, before tripping and falling to face, her wicker basket spilling out in front of her and rolling up against one of the HESCO barriers.
“STAY DOWN! STAY DOWN. DON’T MOVE!” Voices screamed all around her, from every side and above.
She tried to look up, as she felt a shadow fall over her, but only noticed a pegasus guards-pony above, wielding what looked to be a deadly set of steel claws attached to his hooves.
“FACE DOWN IN THE DIRT! FUCK!” A voice screamed. “We will fuckin’ END YOU! Don’t you FUCKING breathe!”
Zala was terrified. The power in the voices all around her was like nothing she could remember from the night of dancing a year prior. She could feel the violence in their voices. She knew in that moment that these guards could destroy her, kill her… pierce her with all of their deadly arrows and sharp spears in a moment… just snuff her from existence.
She started shivering. Pressing her muzzle as deep into the gravel she had been so fascinated by only minutes before. She did everything she could not to breathe, as the shouting guards had instructed. She felt her groin and thighs become soaked, as the pungent odor of her urine flooded the air near her.
She had wet herself.
She would be embarrassed… if she weren’t so terrified.
“Celestia! It’s just a kid!” One of the soldiers, closest to her grunted. “She’s buckin’ scared! Take it eas-”
“Quiet Tower Shield, stay right where you are! The stripers have sent young bombers in other regions - that basket could be chock full of poison joke extract, enough to put the whole damn COP out of commission.” The gruff gravely voice rumbled. “Where the BUCK is my EOD tech?”
“Right here sarge!” Another voice squawked. “Enchanted Object Disposal at your service…”
“Well… getcha horn out of ya’ tailhole and clear the civ!”
Zala kept her eyes on the ground pushing against her nose, taking in little snuffles of air, hoping that the soldiers wouldn’t end her for doing so… when a blue haze of magic spread over the periphery of where she was looking, a soft glow that thrummed with power. She heard a kicking and clanking sound, the familiar jingle of her clay pottery and trinkets being sprinkled onto the ground.
“It’s just a bunch of junk! No magical signatures… She’s clear.” The blue glow yelled. Immediately a cacophony of hooves exploded all about her, heavy hooffalls rushing about and setting up all around her. She shivered with fear, sensing the grunting, menacing soldiers all around her.
Then she felt a light touch on her shoulder.
“Hey. It’s OK! Shhh shhh shh… don’t worry, it’s ok! You can look at me! We won’t hurt you!” The voice, now silky-sweet, cooed at her. “Come on now, look up give me your hoof!”
Zala didn’t want to trust the voice, every instinct in her screaming that she should stay as small as possible, and await the crushing bit of the predator’s death blow to her vitals. But a hoof reached down and put itself under her chin, lifting her head and forcing her to look up. Zala saw a white-furred earth-pony, with a shock of reddish-brown hair and a thick beard. He had a dirty, grimy face under his golden headguard, sweat pouring from his forehead in rivulets under the hot afternoon sun. Zala looked up with wonder, it was the first pony she had seen since that evening, now so long ago. She was once again awestruck by the amazing colors and softness of the pony’s fur.
She looked down at the proffered hoof, and blushed further. This pony was huge! His muscles bulged and throbbed, all upon a massive bone structure that seemed to connect the earth-pony’s very hooves into the foundations of the earth. He was massive - bigger than any zebra (or any of the few ponies she’d remembered) that she had ever seen… he looked as big as one of the water buffaloes that her tribe would need 6 stallions to take down.
“What’s going on Tower Shield? Is she hurt?” A voice shouted over at him, distracting him briefly from looking down at her.
“Dunno Sarge, I think she’s just a bit stunned.” He reached down and hooked his forehooves under Zala’s armpits, lifting her up into his arms without even blinking. “There we go sweetie. Upsy-daisy.” Zala was stunned, as the big burly soldier cradled her comfortable against his chest, carrying her into the camp as he walked in awkwardly, upright on his two legs.
Zala still couldn’t say anything, her mouth agape as she bounced against the sweaty, musky chest fur of the stallion. His chest floor was damp with sweat, a strong odor laced with the most potent and alluring mix of aromas that she had ever sniffed. This wasn’t like the acrid tang of the colts from her village, fresh from the fields or the hunt. No this was something…. more.
“Ah, had a little accident, did you?” Zala looked down, seeing that her damp bottom was soaking the cradle formed by Tower Shield’s reasurring arms.
“I-I-I….” Zala began to stammer out, mortified with embarrassment that she was soaking the soldier in her urine.
“Shh, it’s ok filly… truth be told I’m so grody right now it’s probably a net positive…” He set her down inside the camp on a small lounger. “Doc! Get over here won’t you!?”
“Yeah yeah. I’m here…” A light-blue unicorn mare in silver barding filled the filly’s field of vision. She was looking straight into Zala’s eyes, scanning them deeply for signs of concussion or other ailments. Zala was completely engrossed in the deep blue pools of the medic’s irises.
“Hey there cutie-pie, how you doing? What’s your name?” The medic picked up one of Zala’s hooves, holding it briefly to take her pulse. “My name is Tourniquet, I’m just gonna make sure that everything is alright and you’re feeling OK.”
The larger guard hovered nearby, watching carefully. “Don’t do any funny stuff, Tourniquet, she may be the first female a carpet-muncher like you has seen in months but you’ll scare the poor thing.” He chuckled, winking at the flabbergasted Zala.
‘Carpet?’ Zala thought. Did this pony chew on rugs?
“Shut the buck up you idiot.” Tourniquet growled over her shoulder as she flashed a pen-light in the filly’s left and right eyes, checking her pupillary response. “Don’t hate me just because you know my tongue-skills would make your wife leave you in less than 10 minutes.”
Tower stiffened, Tourniquet mentioning his wife was a low blow. “Fuckin’ slit-licker.” He laughed, playfully punching Tourniquets arm.
“Pftt...” She grinned. “You hit like a girl, Tower. You probably screw like one too.” She turned away from Zala to levitate out a canteen from her heavy pack, lifting it over to the shell-shocked zebra filly. “She’s fine, by the way… just a bit dehydrated, otherwise quite healthy… and cute.” She waggled her eyebrows at the filly.
Zala blushed slightly. Was this pony-mare flirting with her? And they were both so crude! So different from the officers who had first arrived in her village a year ago. Not… bad, just… different. Cocky, self-assured, powerful.
“Hey you buckin’ idiots! Show some Celestia-damned decorum you two parasprite-humpers!” A gruff, half-armored pony with a sword growled as he stepped over and rebuked the two soldiers attending to Zala. “This is some poor little filly, could be the daughter of a chieftain or sometin’ and here yew two are, yakkin’ like a pair of yaks!” The strange cajun accent landed harshly on Zala’s ears, making them flick left and right as she tried to decipher his strange patois.
“Yessir, Sarge.” Tower Shield snapped off a lazy salute.
“Aye-aye Sargeant Bayou.” Tourniquet nodded, keeping her eyes on Zala. “It’s ok sweetie, we’re all just playing around. Drink up now.” She urged Zala to take a drink from the strange plastic container.
Zala thirstily gulped down the liquid, a clear and cool water that tasted fresher than the mountain springs she had once hiked to with her family as a filly. It was delicious!
“There yew ga, little bijou…” The gruff half-unshaven sargeant grinned. “Take it naaaaise, ‘n easy now. Allow me tah welcom’ ya to the COP Silver Shield, last outpost a’ civilization in these here parts… but what brings a little bijou like yew so far away from her village?”
Zala blushed, slowly settling the canteen down and wiping her little snout as she looked about at the different sets of eyes staring at her. Aside from the mare unicorn, the giant earth-pony stallion, and the gruff earth-pony sargeant… another unicorn, a pair of pegasi, and what seemed like a… giant bat? were all looking at her.
Even more noticeable… Aside from Tourniquet… they were all male. Very male.
“Uhh…. I… I was…” Zala hadn’t really thought this through. In her dreams she had simply just walked out to Pony civilization, where Lancer was waiting for her, ready to sweep her up into his arms and whisk her away to a better life. “I was… looking for… Lieutenant… Lancer…”
The ponies all arched their eyebrows in unison, looking from one to another with surprise and confusion.
“An LT named Lancer? I don’t know of any Lancer in Echo company…” one of the pegasi noted, slowly landing and letting his brown wings stop flapping.
“Yeah, Pokes… I think there was one in Bravo, like… way back from the early days when the whole corps was doing the first invasion.” Tower Shield mulled, scratching his chin. “But… all of Bravo rotated back home months ago.”
“Hey… Feudal Feather, didn’t you know someone in Bravo? Weren’t you his bottom-bitch?” Tourniquet smirked up at the other pegasus, a dark grey, brooding fellow with silver hair.
“Buck you, Tourniquet, I’m not gay.” He stuck his tongue out at her rudely, before landing next to the other pegasus. Zala immediately noticed the huge crossbow holstered on his side. “...but YES I do remember a Lt. Lancer, he led a squad right at the bleeding edge in the first few weeks.”
“Yeah, you remember how sore your ass was after he-”
“Shut the BUCK up Tourniquet or I swear to Celest-”
“ZIP IT, Yew All! Line up, fall in!” Bayou barked.
Zala watched in awe as the troops snapped into what seemed to be rigid, muscular stances, quicky arranging themselves from left to right, in a perfect single line, heads held high. It was amazing. Each pony had so much power and grace, their armor, though dirty and grimy with the red dust of the area still showed the incredible technology and shine of their culture, protecting their most vulnerable body parts. Their weapons glistened and stood at the ready, poised to race out with deadly precision and vanquish their enemies.
But she could also see the softness in all of them. The thin and colorful manes. The smiling kindness in their features. The unique and pastel colored coats. Their perfectly maintained hooves and sparkling teeth. Their glittering and colorful eyes, filled with spirit. They were all so handsome, so perfect!
She blushed.
“Haw-lright 2nd Squad, 3rd Plah-toon, Echo Company, Everfree Scouts! Let’s give our little visitor an introduction! Sound off!” Bayou shouted. Nodding to the first and largest member of the file, Bayou shuffled back into line.
“Guardsman First Class, Tower Shield, shield-bearer!” The big stallion winked at Zala, who tried to return the strange eye gesture.
“Corpsmare Tourniquet, medic. Heart-throb and prettiest mare in the whole regiment, at your service.” She shot a grin at her squadmates as they all groaned from her self-stylization.
The previously silent tan unicorn, spoke up, his curly brown mane bobbing about. “Magic Specialist Det Cord. I blow stuff up.” Zala noticed that his voice seemed bubbly and unconstrained, like he was a natural comedian.
A white-coated pegasus with blue hair fluttered his wings and stamped a hoof. “Lance Guardsman, Kami Windbreaker - at your service.”
Right next to him the grumpy dark-gray coated pegasus with silver hair rolled his eyes and sighed. “Feudal Feather. Archer.”
Finally, the last pony in the line spoke up. “Guardspony First Class. Radar. Intel.” Zala could tell he was the youngest, his voice seemed unsure and light. But he was still fascinating. He was more the size of the stallions from her home tribe, a bit smaller. Unlike them, his entire fur was an obsidian black, his leathery-batwings perched at his side. Zala was particularly fascinated by his wide, bright-yellow eyes… and his pupils which were still like… he even had fangs just like a bat! Perhaps the old legends of the animal-pony hybrids of the past were true?
Before Zala could think any further, the gruff sergeant stepped in front of her. “ ‘n ah’m sergeant Bayou. The leader ah’ this here cadre… welcome to our humble post, Miss…?” The dark green, black haired, middle-aged pony reached out a hoof.
Zala swallowed deeply, and stretched her own hoof out in return, bumping the proffered appendage in the greeting that she had learned so long ago, and which had quickly become very fashionable to perform in her village.
“Z-zala… daughter of Zairobi, from the Ihashi tribe.”
“Welcome, Zala… now let’s git you a showah!”
The next few days were interesting, to say the least.
Zala had been a welcome distraction to the long monotony of the posting at COP Silver Shield. That first night had been such an eye-opener. Beside the fact that she was able to take a shower with fresh water, from a large tank of water up in the guard-tower which was refilled by the pegasi literally creating rain-clouds from nothing, she also got to use the most incredible soaps and shampoos. She felt like she’d just gone in the purifying hot springs of Mt. Kiliponjaro.
And then she’d gotten to eat!
The soldiers had broken out beautiful metal cookware:silver pots and pans that glistened under the sun. With the tiniest spark of her horn, Tourniquet had lit a pig-iron camp stove. Zala was still trying to wrap her head around the amazing ease with which the ponies had gotten the water in the pot to boil when another miracle of modern culture hovered past her face... canned food!
Tomatoes, potatoes, carrots… even meats for the bat-pony… all incredible delicacies that Zala had only seen at the odd feast from time to time… and all of them pre-cut and easily poured into the pot, right out of these miraculous little metal cans that were just thrown away!
Zala couldn’t help but pick up one of the empty discarded cans, turning it over in her hoof in wonder, feeling just how light it was as she sniffed the delicious smell of tomato paste within. She was just about to lick the sweet interior of the can when she saw Tourniquet upturn a sack of rice into the stew-pot… so much rice! And precious grains were spilling onto the ground below! Zala squeaked in alarm and raced to the ground to scoop up the food, only to stop as she realised all the Equestrians were staring at her with odd glances - it was with embarrassment and great reticence that she left the precious grains on the dirty ground.
She had assumed at first that the dinner was a gigantic feast, perhaps in honor of her arrival… or for some unknown pony holiday that had just happened to coincide with her arrival at their camp. Until she noticed there was no ceremony whatsoever with how the other soldiers slopped the rich, aromatic stew into their steel bowls, slurping the vegetables with loud belches and laughter. The huge pile of discarded metal cans in the corner of the base also suggested that there was little concern for scarcity… as did the giant stacks of of unopened cans next to them. Zala couldn’t believe how much stew had been prepared for their dinner either: it was more than enough to feed each soldier three times!
Zala quietly closed her eyes and uttered a prayer to the Sun above for the incredible blessing, before taking another spoonful of the wondrous food... the taste of the stew making her eyes water with joy.
After filling her belly so much that it bulged out like it belonged to a chubby chieftain’s daughter, Zala leaned back with a contented sigh.
“Hopefully that wasn’t TOO bad, Zala… I hate the tomato vegetable stew rations, but you can never tell which one you’re gonna get until you crack the can open.” Kami groaned, arching an eyebrow at her as he nudged the little zebra filly with an elbow. “We didn’t bake any bread tonight either, because Tourniquet is trying to put us all on a diet… all because she thinks her flanks are getting too fat.”
“Hey, you tailhole-licker,” Tourniquet growled from her seated perch against a bundle of spears, “I put us all on a diet because you’re ALL 2 pounds or more too heavy as of your last physicals! MY flank is perfectly apportioned!” She wiggled her bottom. “Isn’t it, kid?”
Zala gulped and looked at the unicorn’s rump, which did indeed look a bit chubby to her eyes, but she nodded, wanting to seem agreeable. “Wh-what is a diet?”
All the ponies began to laugh.
Later that evening, with the sun still starting to dip on the horizon, Zala stretched her arms and let out a little yawn. She’d spent the previous hour answering every sort of question from the pony soldiers, about her family, her life, her tribe… how she had met the lieutenant, details about the Zebrican country… Zala began to suspect that these guards-ponies were asking her so many questions more out of a sense of complete boredom than out of a general curiosity.
She also noticed that they all had a very lewd sense of humor.
They pressed her for details about her sexual history, whether she had a coltfriend, what she had done with the lieutenant, descriptions of her tribes-mates. Zala was no blushing bride-maiden, but even the coarsest colts of her tribe were not as ribald as these soldiers. She even overheard sidebars where they would talk about their latest bowel movements... soldiers were strange.
Zala steered away from those topics as much as she could, and the guards-ponies never pressed her, especially when their sergeant would clear his throat menacingly.
Zala yawn finished just a shadow fell over her… the huge Tower Shield was getting up to his hooves.
“Hey, Tower… where you headed?” Det Cord asked from his back, where he was sprawled out lazily staring at the evening sky.
“Gotta take a leak.” Tower grunted, stretching slightly as he trotted toward a set of pipes that been buried into the Zebrican earth in one corner, obviously placed there after the ponies had dug holes for them so that they protruded with one end from the ground. Zala had walked near them earlier, and the powerful scent of stallion urine had struck her nostrils. It was an ingenious way to create an outdoor latrine for urination. In her own tribe there was a field that they would simply go and squat in… a horrible experience, especially after a strong rain which would turn the toilet-ground into a cesspool… these ponies were so clever!
“Oooooh! Show’s on fellas! Tower’s gonna drop the SAUSAGE!” Tourniquet cheered, rolling over and getting a good viewpoint. All of her squadmates (except the Sergeant) did the same, whooping and hooting as Tower Shield shook his head angrily.
“Gimme a fuckin’ break guys, tonight too?” He blushed and nodded his head toward Zala. “Zala’s right there.”
Kami chuckled, resting his chin on his hooves. “So what? This is the best show in this damn savannah… We look forward to this spectacle all day!”
Tourniquet nodded, elbowing aside Radar and Feudal for a good vantage point on the tubes. “Yeah, don’t take away our only entertainment Tower… I’m sure Zala has seen plenty of big fella’s back home. Those pompous, bullshittin’ zebra ambassadors in Equestria are always telling all the newspapers and magazines about how huge and strong their warriors are.”
Radar chuckled. “Dude, Feudal, remember that time last month when Tower actually touched the ground? I wish we had some popcorn.”
Feudal Feather glared at the younger bat-pony. “Yeah I remember that, boot, quit crowding.”
Tower Shield simply sighed and straightened himself…. Zala couldn’t believe what she saw next.
From under his white stallion body she saw his penis begin to unfurl. Slinking slowly at first, it dropped faster and faster, growing in length and width almost terrifyingly. Zala’s mouth slipped open as the obsidian finger of flesh became a fat sausage, then a tube thicker than her leg. Her eyes traced over the arcing black penis, drooping down to almost drag against the earth. The flaccid cock had a hoof sized head, with a ridge with sharp contrasting bumps, that slid down to a cylindrical, throbbing shaft with thick veins… all leading to a positively huge medial ring before it disappeared behind the stallion’s thighs.
She’d never seen anything like that before. Forget about the colts and stallions who she’d seen around her village. Their stallionhoods were barely as long as her hoof-width. Even Zugabwe, the giant simpleton who was used to plow the fields and was famous for his… size… was not even half the stallion that Tower Shield was! How could a stallion even walk with such a… a… monster between his legs!?
Zala wiped a thread of drool from her still open mouth.
The giant penis began to splatter a heavy stream of golden urine, a splattering sound of filling being projected out the upright tube that Tower Shield was aiming his member toward.
Zala felt her marehood twitching and swelling, her arousal starting to rise at the pure sight of incredible male stallion before her. Her heart pounded with excitement, sending her hot blood coursing through her veins. She felt her body begin to heat and sweat as the earth-pony in front of her marked the insides of the tube with his stream of urine. She felt her clitoris begin to fatten in between her folds, making her shift her legs uncomfortably.
Simultaneously, both Tower Shield and Zala let out a sigh of satisfaction.
All the ponies who had been hooting and hollering at the embarrassed Tower Shield’s performance paused to look at Zala. Lance Corporal Kami immediately adopted a wry smile. “Ha! Tower, looks like you’ve got a new fan! Guess you DO measure up to the Zebras!”
Zala half-whispered in response, not letting her big purple eyes stray from the incredible sight before her, “...by the sun, I did not know that a stallion could be so large… no zebra is even half as large as him. He would tear any zebra-mare in two...”
All the watching soldiers began laughing and cheering, chanting: “E Q A! E Q A!” over and over. Zala could only blush in confusion.
Radar piped up, “She’s buckin’ right though… I don’t know how any mare could handle that… do you think that you could fit him Tournie?”
Tourniquet rolled her eyes and growled at the thestral. “Shut the buck up, boot.” She turned back toward the show, where Tower Shield was now shaking his member dry. “Yeah, shake it baby… shake it for momma.”
Det Cord asked Tourniquet the same question. Zala didn’t understand the social hierarchy of this group, but it was becoming clear to her that the bat-pony was some kind of excluded novice. “Seriously though, Tourniquet, have you taken that beast yet?”
Tower Shield trotted back to the group and fell back to his seat, to mild applause from all assembled, before answering for her. “No she HASN’T, because I have a damn WIFE, Det.”
Det rolled his eyes. “Dude I’ve read Kindknicker’s letters to you, she’s actually told you to get laid while abroad - she freakin’ WROTE that she’s cool with more mares if you want to make a harem… you have literally NO excuse here.”
Tower shoved the smaller unicorn into a heap. “You’ve been reading my letters, you damn stalker!?” He made a threatening gesture to the chuckling demolition specialist.
Tourniquet spoke up, looking to short-circuit a potential conflict. “Doesn’t matter anyway, no way I’m gonna lift my tail for THAT…” She nodded toward Tower Shield’s groin. “No offense Tower, but I’d like to be able to walk normal when I get back home… besides, momma Tourniquet can get whatever she needs from you other fellas.”
At this Zala’s ears perked up, and she tilted her head in interest and confusion. “I-I… am not sure I understand… I thought you were interested in other females?” The zebra-filly questioned, referencing many of the hints that the medic had dropped throughout the conversations that night.
Tourniquet laughed and nodded exuberantly. “Sure, sure. Yeah kid I’m only into mares… but when you’re in heat in the field you gotta scratch that itch y’know?” She nodded to the other soldiers about. “You know what they say, right? It’s not straight, if you’re in plate.”
All the other soldiers groaned at this.
Feudal Feather growled and shook his head. “That’s the dumbest freaking saying all these enlisted filly-foolers spout…” He paused to point at the unicorn mare, “...especially since YOU never lift your tail except when YOU’RE feeling horny.”
Tourniquet chuckled, running her tail under Feudal Feather’s snout playfully while he tried to swat it away. “Awww, poor little archer mad that he can’t put his arrow in a quiver? I just love blue-balling you tail-holes when I’m not in estrus… keeps you guys light on your hooves.”
“Bitch.”
“Evil dyke.”
“Cunt-sniffer.”
The growled slurs came from all the male soldiers in unified commiseration against the tyranny of the female medic.
Tourniquet just laughed louder, “Ha ha ha, I’ve got you all on a string! Beside, you colts smell so much better when you’re all a little horny - it just oozes through your pores… it’s like olfactory candy for a mare! Just ask Zala, I’m sure SHE can tell, too.”
Zala tightened up as she felt five pairs of male eyes lock on her. It was quite true: the incredible stallion musk hung about the camp like a fog. She’d already noticed the masculine stains and stenches around their sleeping areas, tents and bunks… had seen the strange marks on the plywood shower stall when she’d been showering earlier… and her nose loved it.
Zala simply blushed, and nodded.
That evening she slept on a fabric cot with a gray, woven wool blanket inside the plywood constructed barracks. Although Tower Shield had apologised to her about how threadbare the accomodations were, Zala couldn’t believe just how heavenly the bedding was. It was far more comfortable than anything she had ever slept on.
She slept easy, comforted by the ponies around her, who rotated their watches to ensure that the small outpost was completely secure. The sergeant had informed her that she would be brought back to the pony headquarters for further debriefing, but they wouldn’t be leaving the outpost for a few more days.
She was in no great rush to leave - she loved spending time with the wonderful Equestrians. As much as she wanted to go find her true love, Lieutenant Lancer, she felt like she was making progress toward her goal, and learning more about this fascinating culture before she found him again was no punishment.
She was hanging out in the barracks, flipping through one of the magazines that Tower Shield had given her, marvelling at the incredible and impossible pictures of giant cities with massive structures reaching up into the stars, filled with thousands of pony-made lights. She’d seen old photographs brought by other wise-zebras of her tribe, but they were nothing compared to these full color spreads.
The door to the barracks creaked open and Radar, the young bat-pony trotted in with a sigh, pulling off his golden helmet and tossing it onto his cot. “Det, sarge said he wants us to rotate watches, you need to head out now and I’ll take the late shift.”
Det Cord groaned, tossing the beat up paperback he’d been reading over his shoulder, against the wall behind his cot where he had been reclining. “Luna’s teats, boot! What the buck did you screw up so bad that sarge is making me swap with you.” He groaned and grunted as he pulled his armor onto his shoulders. “You buckin’ owe me for this… buckin’ boot…” Det grumbled as he walked out of the barracks.
Radar let out a sigh, before slinking onto his cot and stretching out. He reached under his bed and grabbed a very particular magazine.
“That’s unbelievable boot…” Feather shook his head from the other side of the barracks, “not even one minute since you bucked over Det and you’re going to ‘adjust your antenna’... ice-cold man…”
“I can’t help it, I’ve been posted behind Tourniquet all damn morning... “ He flipped open the magazine. “I can’t wait any more!”
Zala paid only a little attention to the exchange: she’d gotten used to the fact that the soldiers had quickly become accustomed to her presence, treating her as if she were a piece of furniture in the corner. It was fun, being a fly on the wall and getting a glimpse into the soldier’s lives. For the most part it seemed to Zala that they were bored.
She flipped the page on the magazine she was reading, a silent exclamation escaping her lips at the wondrous marvels she saw there. A strange repeating sound made her ears flick back and forth... a soft, fleshy, tapping coming at a consistent tempo. She ignored it as she studied the picture, which showed happy, smiling ponies in front of a city which seemed to be perched in the clouds… with rainbow waterfalls and racing pegasi! It was incredible!
She had trouble focusing, as the soft slapping sound became louder and more rapid. Her ears flicked slightly in annoyance… what was that?
Radar groaned out, suddenly, making Zala look up from her magazine across the barracks at him.
Her eyes widened and she froze. The young bat pony was laid back against the wall, his hooves rushing up and down his erect cock as he held out a magazine with a picture of a pretty pegasus on the cover in one of his outstretched wings. While nowhere near as large as Tower Shield’s display the previous evening, Radar would certainly have put any of her tribe to shame. The thestral’s dark gray stallionhood was fully rigid, the pole reaching up to his belly and releasing a small trickle of clear liquid that ran down the underside, over his inflated flare’s ridge, down over the veins of his shaft and becoming lost in the blur of his pumping hooves as they work up and down his dick.
Zala twitched, feeling her heart-rate begin to skyrocket. Radar was mastrubating! Right in front of her!
Her nostrils flared and she drew a deep breath as she tried to calm herself… but she only caught a heavy whiff of the young bat’s aroma. She swallowed nervously, blushing slightly… was she supposed to be seeing this? She looked over toward Feudal Feather, who seemed to not care at all that the other soldier in the barracks was pleasuring himself.
Zala looked back at Radar, tilting her head to get a better view around the magazine he was holding… Radar noticed immediately.
His slit-eyes locked onto her face, and he paused mid-stroke. For a moment, Zala felt like she’d been caught by her mother stealing extra berries from the pantry. She scrunched her face and folded her ears back, worried that she might be berated by the bat for peeping on him.
Instead, Radar grinned slightly, and slowly lowered the magazine, no longer looking at it. Zala’s face was blushing bright red, the full length of the colt now visible to her, right down to the two orb-shaped testicles between his legs.
A moment passed where the grinning thestral’s vision simply held hers…
Then he started to stroke himself again, still looking directly at her.
Zala felt the blood rush to her head, a rush of adrenaline washing over her. Her thoughts were starting to race: was this Equestrian stallion pleasuring himself… to her? Did he truly find her, a zebra-filly, attractive?
Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched Radar’s hooves race up and down his pre-cum burbling shaft. She imagined what it might smell like… taste like… feel like?
Zala bit her lip slightly as she considered the masculine specimen before her. Radar noticed immediately and laughed.
Zala felt her tail began to lift involuntarily, as her fillyhood fattened between her thighs. The wonderful ‘delightful soreness’ of her loins as they heated up made her rub her legs against one another… the stimulation making her clitoris fatten in between her tight pussylips.
“Belt fed little thing, ain’cha?” Radar grunted before shutting his eyes and beginning to shudder.
Zala watched with wonder as the throbbing pony-cock’s head flared out, immediately thickening and angling upward as the ridge fanned out and became knobby and frighteningly wide. Then it began to shoot.
Zala couldn’t believe how much essence the bat-pony released, stream after stream of heavy ropes slinging out in arcing S-shaped strands that fell onto the barracks floor, landing with pitters and patters of stallion-cum splattering to the ground..
“Celestia, boot! The hay is wrong with you!? Use a damn sock you moron!” Feudal Feather shouted. “You better clean that shit up before Tourniquet gets back or she’s gonna kick your buckin’ ass.”
Radar moaned as his orgasm subsided, his eyes rolling slightly as he regained full consciousness. “H-hope… hope you enjoyed the show, Zala…” He grinned, before grabbing one of Det Cord’s shirts from his bunk and starting to mop up the sticky mess he had made.
“Ice cold, boot… yer a buckin’ bad one, man…”
Later that same day, Zala decided to go out into the outpost courtyard. She’d spent most of the morning with Tower Shield, happily chatting with him about his homeland. Apparently he came from a vast village called Las Pegasus. She had been quite interested to hear that the environment of Las Pegasus was not dissimilar to her own homeland, an arid savannah-like terrain. Unlike the small villages her tribe had created though, it appeared the Equestrians had made a vast and sprawling kingdom of sky-towers with giant lights and magical storytellers everywhere.
Zala chuckled as Tower Shield spoke about his home life. The gentle giant had told the zebra-filly all about his wife and foal. Apparently she was older than him, a much smaller mare who had once been his teacher. Tower seemed embarrassed to admit these facts to Zala - she wondered if perhaps he was admitting some taboo to her… from her own perspective the idea that a teacher and student might marry or mate was extremely common… though perhaps an older mare managing to bed a younger colt not as much. This mare, Kindknicker, must have been either a chieftain’s daughter or a legendary beauty to have landed a younger, giant warrior-stallion like Tower Shield, Zala thought.
Even more incredible to her was the idea that this mare would be so gregarious as to let her stallion search and seek out other mares to add to Tower Shield’s family harem! The giant earth-pony was bashful and tried to avoid talking about it, but Zala’s eager questioning eventually pried out from the shy soldier that Kindknicker had made it clear to him that she would have no problem with Tower making their marriage a polygamous one.
In Zala’s tribe, alpha-males and warriors would take as many wives as they pleased (they quickly learned that more mares zebra-mares wasn’t always better), often to the chagrin of their existing spouses. Yet here were the ponies, and everything seemed to be completely flipped!
She had just started asking the large guards-pony about his sex life (to his blushing and adorably bashful response) when a piercing cry rang through the outpost.
“FRONT AND CENTER GUARDS-PONIES! FALL IN!” The sergeant barked, With a clatter of plate armor and hooves, all six of the unit lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of Sgt. Bayou. Zala stood off to one side, once again completely enthralled by how rock solid and stoic they could stand.
“Thank you, guards-ponies. It’s dat special time a’ month agin’, boys! Time for ya medical inspections!” The entire line of ponies except Tourniquet groaned. “OK OK, thas’ enough grousin’! I hafta go through it too, so no complainin’ ya’ sissies! Corpsman, take over!” Sgt. Bayou stepped into line as Tourniquet stepped forward and took over.
“Ok gents, you know the drill! Hooves and teeth first!” All along the line, Zala watched as the stallions lifted their left forearms and grinned their mouths wide into forced smiles. Although the well-shod hooves were interesting - she was even more amazed by how white and well-kept the pony’s dentition was. Certainly most of her friends and family all had one or two teeth missing, and no-pony would have such a fantastic shade of pearly-whites.
Tourniquet made her way down the line, pausing to look into each guards-pony’s mouth and at their hooves, using her magic to inspect for cracks or imperfections. Every once in a while she would point out a spot on a hoof and shake her head at the stoic pony being inspected. Zala couldn’t see anything, but Tourniquet had an incredible look of seriousness etched into her features.
“OK boys… lift those tails now!” A new chorus of grumbles echoed down the line.
“STOW that complainin’ guards-ponies!” The sergeant barked, as he lifted his tail up.
Tourniquet walked behind the row of ponies, inspecting their backsides. Zala was doing everything she could to stifle a gut-busting laugh that she felt building up within her: a mare had a whole bunch of warrior-stallions hiking up their tails for her! She trotted around to get a view of what Tourniquet was doing, and also to catch a glimpse of all the soldiers tail-holes.
She covered her mouth with a hoof to hide her mirth as Tourniquet worked her way down the line, carefully looking at each stallion’s nethers, sometimes slipping a magical tendril into a soldier’s bottom, sometimes balancing or lightly pressing into a stallion’s tasticles and asking them to cough.
When she got to Feudal Feather and slipped a small sliver of magic into his asshole, the pegasus squeaked and ruffled his feathers a bit. A perfect opportunity for Tourniquet. “Easy there, I know you love taking it in the ass Feudal, but this is just an inspection.”
Feudal growled. “I’m not buckin’ GAY, dammit!”
“SHUT IT YOU TWO, no yakkin’ during inspections or I will NJP-your asses!” Sgt. Bayou barked once again.
Tourniquet chuckled, and finished her probe, giving Feudal a little pat on the rump as she finished. She worked her way down to the Sergeant’s end, carefully finishing her inspection and letting the older stallion know that he could come see her later for an ointment that would help with something that Zala couldn’t see.
Tourniquet walked to the front of the line again, with Zala trotting around on the periphery, following the action.
“OK guys, last step, up on your hind-legs, and let ‘em drop.” She nodded to the squad insistently. “I’ll even give you a little help if you need it.”
Zala watched with wonder as all six of the stallions stood up onto their hind-legs, balancing easily on their rear hooves. Simultaneously, Tourniquet turned around so that her rear was facing the line of stallions, flicking her lime green tail up and over her lower back while pushing her ass out. Zala could see the medic’s plump bottom frame her marehood and ponut. She didn’t appear to be particularly aroused or interested… but it still had an effect on the stallions.
She watched as all of the stallions began to spill from their sheaths. Zala’s eyes went wide with desire as the objects of her attention slipped into view. Different colored stallionhoods flopped out of furry bulges from each guards-pony’s lower abdomens. Zala swallowed the saliva building up in her mouth as she drooled over the beautiful pony-cocks now filling her vision.
She noticed that they were all BIG. Obviously, Tower Shield was in a whole other category… but all of the pony guards would put the blush to the warriors of her zebra tribe… and they weren’t even hard! Tourniquet had quickly turned around before the various stallion-ly staves went from being floppy socks of flesh into rigid, proud, Equestrian flagpoles.
“I swear to Celestia, guys… if ANY of you have been neglecting ‘cleaning your spears’... if any of you have build-up or, Tartarus-forbid, a bean… I will make you freakin’ EAT it.” Tourniquet growled as she began to inspect Kami’s flaccid penis, turning it over in her magical field, swabbing under the coronal ridge and tracing her energy under his shaft. She pulled on it slightly, testing that the suspensory ligaments were all in good shape before she moved on.
Zala felt that same arousal starting to build in her loins again. Her eyes darted from the stallions’ faces, searching for little tics and reactions but finding almost none, then racing back to where the action was happening… her arousal as the fleshy pipes of masculine studliness hung and bounced in her field of vision.
Zala felt her little dock began to wag and stiffen, lifting itself up and away from her backside, revealing her tight, zebra plot… letting the heat of her loins dissipate into the atmosphere. She could feel her body tingling with excitement and arousal, little sparks of electricity bursting along her body.
She felt that same telltale stickiness starting to connect her fattening mare-lips, little strands of lubrication connecting her folds…
“What the hay, boot…” Tourniquet growled, poking the young bat… up until that point he had seemed almost overly proud of his performance in the medical inspection, puffing his chest out, a cocky grin on his face. “What’s with these damn abrasions!? You’re beating your meat raw again, aren’t you!?” Tourniquet angrily slapped the bat’s phallus away. “Use some damn lube, or you’re gonna end up with rot and us having to haul your boot-ass outta here on a stretcher!”
Zala bit her lip, glad that she wasn’t facing away from the Equestrians at this moment. Whether it was the sight of a strong mare berating a younger stallion… or just the sigh of so much delectable pony-guard meat in front of her… Zala’s little clitoris was winking in and out of her beautiful black marehood. She quickly clenched her legs together, feeling a small dribble of filly-cum trickle down her thighs instead of splashing to the ground: she had no idea how these ponies might react to her arousal.
“Allllllright… fall out!” Sergeant Bayou grunted, after receiving a nod from Tourniquet. All the soldiers let out a little sigh of relief as they slipped back to all fours.
Zala was doing her best not to sigh herself… as she watched six beautiful, bouncing treats slowly retract back up into their hiding places. Her body was aching, BURNING…. she was bathing in a soup of pony-soldier musk… and being taunted by an assault of beautiful pony-physiology.
She didn’t no how much longer she could last.
…
A few minutes late she trotted over to the latrine area, choosing one of the funnel shaped wider tubes that had been put in place for Tourniquet. Quickly squatting and arranging herself, she let out a small sigh as she released a steady stream of urine into the hole.
“It’s nice to let it out, huh?” Tourniquet asked, from Zala’s left side.
The zebra-filly squeaked, her stream spattering slightly as she briefly clenched at the surprise of the mare who had suddenly appeared next to her.
“Scooch over a bit, I really gotta go.” Tourniquet pushed her way forward, squatting next to Zala before letting out her own sigh as her marehood let loose a golden stream into the funnel of the latrine.
Zala was blushing, the sound of the toilet, the touch of the other mare’s leg against hers, the feel of her tail hairs whisking against hers as they both did such a private, taboo act.
“Mmmm…. I can smell it, you know?” Tourniquet grinned, staring at the blushing filly as she continued to relieve herself.
Zala tried to focus on a point on the earth, avoiding the piercing gaze of the dominating corpsmare.
“You’re horny. Horny as hades.” Tourniquet grinned, looking back at their streams for a moment before staring back at Zala. “You just gotta ask, y’know…” She flashed a smile at the beet red filly. “Anypony here would be happy to help… and I’d LOVE to teach you about the ways of a truly experienced Equestrian ma-”
“Tourniquet! Where the BUCK did you go!?” A voice boomed from the other side of the COP.
“Shit!” Tourniquet’s stream tapered and she shook her bottom quickly before giving Zala a wink and trotting off with a parting quip. “Call me!”
Zala finished her business in silence, her heart pounding with nervous excitement.