A strange sound...

*PLAP*

Sweetie Belle paused at the entrance to the cabin door, her ears twitching as they folded back against her head with uncertainty. She already felt as if she were breaking in by stepping into the room — she hadn’t expected her father’s cabin door to be unlocked.

Maybe her father was in the restroom, or just hadn’t heard her knock? But once the door started to open in her hoof it was just so natural to step in, without even thinking.

Her mind briefly flashed to times she’d scolded her own parents for barging into her room. Privacy was something she’d never cared about as a blank-flank filly, but now, just a year shy of going off to Twilight’s Friendship University on her own, Sweetie was intimately aware of the value of a few seconds to scramble, post-knock, to conceal embarrassing objects or activities.

But what could her dad, the adorably dorky Hondo Flanks, possibly have to hide?

Immediately the sound of strange, flesh-slaps had made her head tilt with a confused curiosity. It almost sounded like clapping… except the rhythm was all wrong: too slow for an enthusiastic cheer, too fast for a sarcastic golf clap.

And there was no sound of clacking hooves, either.

This was the sound of flesh slapping on flesh.

Sweetie’s hooves carried her tentatively forward, creeping deeper into the cabin and the deep shag carpet there that kept her from making any loud hooffalls as she was drawn to the strange, inexplicable ‘plapping’.

As Sweetie passed into the stateroom’s quaint sitting room, a feature of the more luxurious cabins, complete with comfortable sofas and armchairs, her eyes were drawn by movement, her peripheral vision catching the blur of white fur through the open door to the master bedroom.

All at once, time seemed to slow, all her senses drinking in the magnitude of the shock the sight burning into her retinas, scorching up her optic nerve, and indelibly engraving itself in her memory.

Her father was fucking somepony.

Sweetie had always thought that her father was handsome. Even more than the usual way in which all little girls thought their dads were idealized versions of stallions: nurturing, rugged, masculine. Unlike her mother, Sweetie’s dad Hondo had managed to maintain his physique over the years. He was built more like a farmhand than a magic-wielding unicorn, preferring to do most of his chores by hoof instead of the easier option of using magic. That had left him as a well-built, handsome older stallion, even despite the rather ridiculous mustache that everypony in the family agreed should have been relegated to the dustbin long ago.

Now Sweetie was watching that body in motion, sweat dripping from his back and coursing in little trickling rivers off his flanks. Bulges of his big, powerful muscles jerked and throbbed just under his layer of thick white fur.

He was standing on his bed, his forelegs planted up on the wall, the bulk of his body covering whatever mare he had mounted.

Sweetie had never seen her father like this. In action.

His big, powerful hips were swinging back and forth with regular, clenching thrusts, each time launching with nearly enough force to lift him and the poor mare under him slightly off the bed.

His hips would slide up and forward, impacting into the filly’s flank hard enough to make that wet ‘plap!’ sound that she’d been hearing over and over.

Beneath her father’s swishing brown tail, which wagged in a lifted way she’d never seen before, a black blur of motion caught Sweetie’s attention.

After getting to see entirely too much of her father’s tailhole and taint than she ever wanted… Seriously dad, I know it’s not your style but a little trimming down there would be appreciated. Sweetie quickly realized that speed-smeared swinging blur she was seeing was a pair of ponderously huge, black heavy balls.

Her father’s balls.

She’d caught little glimpses here and there growing up, of course. Standing a little too close behind when her dad’s tail flicked away an errant fly or making the mistake of looking up when steadying him on a ladder… there was even the time she’d accidentally walked in on him when their bathroom door was broken: he’d been standing to urinate into the toilet.

Big, floppy daddy dick had stayed burned into her cortex for a good long time. From discussion with Scoots and Applebloom, it was apparently a pretty common thing: fillies tended to overestimate the size of their dad’s flaccid wieners when they caught a glance — hard to avoid when you’re young and impressionable.

But she’d looked away. She always did. She’d been raised to be polite and not stare at colts’ and stallions’ dangly bits.

Honestly, she didn’t even really like looking at those bits, unlike her horndog friends. One of her most embarrassing memories was being dragged into sneaking up into the hayloft to watch Big Macintosh shower after working the fields... Applebloom’s brother! Not that it had given either of those two randy fillies pause — Sweetie swore that Applebloom’s left forehoof was suspiciously out of sight.

No, Sweetie Belle much preferred a stallion’s jaw. His mane. His physique.

She didn’t even have a PornStable account!

But watching the mesmerizing pendulum swing back and forth was hypnotic. The two heavy organs were big. Like, really big!

Swinging low, they sat deep in the black leather pouch of her father’s scrotum, lazily swinging up to strike the mare’s butt he was slowly, rhythmically bucking the hell out of. It was impressive, really.

Sweetie swallowed to herself as she considered just how hard her dad was thrusting, to make those big beautiful black balls swing like that. He was really giving it to this mare.

The thought clicked off in her mind, unsteadying her on her hooves for a moment, nearly making her grasp the edge of the nearby couch for balance.

Just who was her dad rutting so hard?

It wasn’t her mother. Cookie Crumbles had not come on this cruise, she’d never planned to. She was off visiting her friends in Manehattan. Even if she’d somehow changed plans last second, managed to snag one of the impossible tickets, and boarded at the last second… those weren’t her mom’s legs pinned beneath the primal force of nature single-mindedly thrusting itself into the mare’s warm, squishy depths.

The mare currently being slammed into the plaster above the headboard of the bed, pressed completely against the cabin-wall, was alabaster-furred, not the light pink of Sweetie’s beloved mother.

He was having an affair! Cheating on her!

Sweetie felt her jaw set, a lump rising in her throat. Outrage. Shock. She’d always assumed that her parents had a happy, perfect marriage… as most foals do.

Sweetie felt angrier at the mare than her father, her eyes scanning over what little she could see of her, not covered by the stallion’s body. Was she just some hussy? Somepony who’d met Hondo on the cruise? It didn’t seem possible for Hondo to have planned a tryste on this cruise ahead of time — he was here with his two daughters, to spend some quality father-daughter time with them. Hondo would not have been so foolish as to think that he could interweave illicit affair dates with a lover between brunches with Sweetie Belle and her older sister Rarity.

She must have been a casual hookup. A sudden target of opportunity. Had she seduced him, or was it the other way around?

There was a perverse pride she felt for her dad — the old stallion had managed to bag a mare in such a short time after leaving port. She would have whispered ‘Way to go, dad!’... if there wasn’t the associated stigma that he was in the process of cheating on her mother.

Cheating hard.

Even brutally so.

There was a thunking sound coming now, as the mare’s head was driven into the cabin-wall, over and over.

Her father was strong.

She’d always known that, of course. The way the big stallion was able to scoop her up in his arms so effortlessly, even as she’d grown into a young teen filly was evidence of just how much power was contained in those sinewy muscles.

But watching him pound the Tartarus out of this mare, with nothing held back, was a real eye-opener.

Aside from the ‘plapping’ slaps, a crunching crackle began to fill the air: her father was literally rutting this mare through the wall of the cabin. It was a weak facade-wall, placed over the strong, cold steel of the actual ship’s hull of course… but still!

“Holy buck, Dad.” Sweetie Belle whispered to herself.

Her eyes were glued to the conjunction of mare and stallion, briefly able to catch glimpses of her father’s stallionhood — though it was mostly buried hilt-deep in the white, plump marehood of this mystery home-wrecker. On every other thrust, Sweetie caught a flash of brilliant pink against the jet-black of her father’s cock, as brief as a blink, before her father’s powerful hips would slam back into place to obscure her spectating.

But she didn’t miss the thick splatters of fluid that would splash down onto the bed in between each pounding, aggressive thrust. This mare was creaming on her father, soaking his legs and the bed beneath in a way that might stain the mattress permanently.

Sweetie had heard from her friends that some mares were… ‘squirty’. Scootaloo claimed to be of this type, with an obscene kind of pride. Sweetie herself knew she could get very… drippy when playing with some of her secret toys.

But this mare was something else!

Splash after splash of sticky marecum shot-out from her, over and over, soaking everything. Sweetie’s nostrils flared as she picked up the wave of smell from the frenzied pair’s exertions.

A mixture of sweat, musk, pheromones and perfume. The sweet stink of sex.

She swallowed, as if to drink down the odor that had caught in her throat. She could sense her father in the complex bouquet of lust, that pleasant, simple aftershave and deodorant he had used for decades… something her mind automatically associated with comfort, paternal support, and the loving embrace of her father…

But it was mixed with the musky, masculine fog of his sex-charged sweat. The humid potency of scent slinging from his heavy bouncing ballsack, from the steaming black shaft pistoning in and out of his mare, from the pre-ejaculate mixed in with each squirting gush splattering out onto the bed….

Sweetie had caught the whiff of excited colts before, of course. There was no filly or mare that had gone through a heat-cycle that hadn’t. But most of the time she’d been near randy younger colts her age… And the mildly interesting nose-twitch that a whiff of a teen-colt that had accidentally, embarrassingly dropped was a far cry from the attention-demanding wash of a virile, in-rut, actively-fucking stud.

To smell that… mixed in with her father’s scent… it was doing things to her body that made her feel very uncomfortable.

Sweetie couldn’t deny that this whole experience was shockingly exciting. The smells, the sounds, the sights… it was all sexy as hell. Her well-wound-up teenage biology was interpreting these signals as an opportunity to quench those feminine desires that had started to churn in her young body… the fact that these signals were coming from her dad made her stomach do flips, the guilt of feeling ever-so-slightly turned on by her father.

Sweetie’s nostrils twinged again.

There was something else in the air wafting over to her. Another note of something so strangely familiar.

But the olfactory tones piquing her secondary interest were not the rank and powerful masculine musk hitting her in the face like a sledgehammer… it was the feminine undertones. The saffron hints in the gossamer waterfall of mare-arousal that was splattering down on the covers, over and over, mixed with a perfume that seemed oh-so-familiar.

She was almost sure she had smelled that wonderfully female air before… frequently even.
“Ahhhhnnn!” A throaty groan escaped the mare, and she thrashed underneath her father, her back spasming up and down against one of Hondo’s meatier thrusts.

Lucky mare. Sweetie smirked to herself, watching the covered body clench and twist in the throes of a powerful orgasm, as an even heavier spray escaped from their union. But the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, standing up as if the air were charged with the ionic crackle before a lightning strike.

That groan had sounded… familiar.

*Smack!*

Her father had taken a hoof off the wall to swing a savage slap against the mare’s buttocks, his heavy hoof landing with a cracking sting against her white flank just as he finished slamming into her with a powerful, hilting thrust. His hoof perfectly obscured the mare’s cutie mark before he reached with his other hoof, grabbing a hoof-ful of her purple mane and jerking backward, roughly dominating this unicorn as her bucked the hell out of her.

Holy Celestia, dad…! Sweetie’s mouth hung open in enraptured attention. Another guilty twinge flickering through her. She didn’t know her father could be so… alpha. She swallowed again, her mind too busy to repress and explain away the growing arousal she was feeling for the stallion that had raised her.

She felt her tail lifting ever so slightly, her heart pounding in her chest… her body was reacting to the sight, her biological response preparing itself.

“Ahnn… Y-yesss!” The voice of the mare was as shocking as turning on the shower when the hot-water tank had broken. At the same time, the mare screamed her delight at Hondo’s rough treatment of her, her head threw back entirely into view, her distinctive, purple tail thrashed between Hondo’s legs, and Hondo’s slapping hoof retracted to reveal a set of three blue diamonds for a cutie mark.

Rarity.

Sweetie Belle’s older sister.

Hondo Flank’s first daughter. A daughter he had raised by hoof, as normal and genuinely as any father could… changing diapers, bouncing her on his knee, teaching Rarity her first spell, how to ride a bike, helping her through school…

Sweetie was watching him bury himself in that daughter’s pussy, the two of them fucking like animals.

“Baby… I’m close!” Hondo’s groan was loud enough to shake the walls, his hoof clenching the chunk of hair tighter than before, and his heavy thrusts coming faster, with shorter strokes that didn’t drive as deep, filling the cabin with staccato, incestuous flesh sounds.

*Plapplapplapplapplap!*

“Yes, Daddy!” Rarity moaned, her voice more like that of a dramatic Canterlot whorse than her usual prim accent, “Fuck me harder! Fill me! Inside!”

Sweetie felt dizzy as she watched her older sister thrust backward against her father’s thrusts.

She’d always known her sister as a prim and proper fashionista diva. A real lady of a mare, always concerned with poise, manners and devastating stylishness.

And here she was… a sex-starved mess! Fucking herself onto her own father’s cock, groaning and grunting like a two-bit back-alley slut as she soaked the bedsheets, pivoting her hips upwards so she would be able to take the full brunt of the paternal rutting that was reaching its climax.

“Rarity!? Dad!? What the fuck!!!”

Both Rarity’s and Hondo’s heads snapped to their right, as they immediately realized they had been found out. With eyes as wide as dinner plates, and mouths hanging open in stunned expressions, they both locked eyes with the screaming youngest member of their family.

“S-sweetie Belle!?”

“Sweetie!?”

It had been a long time since Sweetie Belle had screamed something in her ‘Squeaky Belle’ voice, as AppleBloom and Scootaloo liked to teasingly call her. Growing up into her teenaged body had developed her powerful vocal cords… and she’d generally become a more calm, collected individual. But if there had been a wine or champagne-glass in the cabin, it would have likely shattered.

Their stunned gasps echoed through the cabin. The hackles on both of them were raised in pure terror, making them look as if they had been plugged into the wall-circuit and given a full dose of electricity.

“Honey, w-what are you doing here- AH!” Hondo’s question was cut off, as his eyes suddenly clenched shut and he grit his teeth. “Rarity!?”

Sweetie could see Rarity had started to shake, her back arching up and down spasmodically and her irises quivering and crossing; a moronic look of pleasure slipped across her face and she instinctively humped backward into Hondo.

“F-father! S-sorry...” Rarity gasped, beside herself. “I can’t st… I’m CUMinGHHhhh!”

Sweetie covered her mouth with her hoof as she watched her beloved older sister orgasm on her father’s stallionhood. A feral moan escaping her muzzle sounded more like a wounded animal than a pony, a long drawn-out mixture of pleasure and release that shook the windows of the cabin.

“Oh… OH, baby!” Sweetie watched her father’s face turn from her again, all of his focus back on his daughter underneath him as he tried to hold on. She watched his teeth grit ferociously, eyes squeezing shut with intensity as his surging muscles in his neck, shoulders and legs tensed with fury… attempting to endure the orgasm of the mare he was hilted in.

Sweetie saw every bit of the unfolding disaster — she could see Rarity’s rhythmic, orgasmic shudders. Ripples of muscular spasms that rolled up her body, each perfectly in time with one of the fashionista’s little humping back-thrusts. Sweetie Belle could only imagine the clenching grasps that her sister’s marehood were unleashing on her father’s deeply-hilted stallionhood, milking his cock… demanding his release.

“Ohhhhhh F-f-f-fuuuuuck!” Hondo scream-shouted, bellowing in triumphant defeat.

Sweetie’s eyes watched with wonder as she saw her father’s big, black testicles race up to his groin, shortening from their dangling-pouch length to tightly-clenched against his body in an instant. She saw the heavy, muscular squeezes of Hondo’s body around those balls, each making the veins on their previously smooth surface pop-out bulgingly, each pulse of pressure pumping unseen semen into Rarity.

Sweetie’s bright green eyes flickered to Rarity’s face, which had shifted suddenly from contorted pleasure to dopey relief. Her eyes spun disjointedly as her tongue slipped out the side of her mouth, all her awareness totally dead to the world.

Most unladylike.

“Gaaaarrgh!” Hondo gasped, his body also thrumming in orgasmic waves, overwhelming biological instinct demanding that he finish his mare off with powerful, final orgasmic-thrusts, overriding any other impulses. His hooves clenched tightly, one jerking Rarity’s pleasure-drunk face upwards with a vicious hair pull, the other digging into the plump flesh of his eldest daughter’s beautiful asscheeks.

“D-dad!?” Sweetie screeched again, out of pure, reactionary horror.

Hondo jerked out of his reverie again, his face a confusing mixture of fear and pleasure as he locked eyes with Sweetie Belle once again.

“S-suh… SweetieEE! UnnF!” His moaning jerks continued as he pumped another load into Sweetie’s older sister.

Sweetie Belle wasn’t sure what was going through her father’s mind, what strange mix of confusion and fear drove him to take his next actions. Perhaps he knew that what he was doing was wrong, and that he’d been caught… leading to an instinctive response to attempt to stop it immediately. His brain certainly didn’t have the spare cycles to realize that there was little he could do to make it better… and so he decided to try to pull out.

A disaster.

Sweetie’s already stunned eyes went wider and wider. She was worried for a moment they might burst out of her head. She was watching inch after inch of huge, jet-black, steaming horsecock being withdrawn from her older sister.

Horsecock that belonged to her father.

Hondo awkwardly stepped back off of Rarity, dismounting her even as he continued to orgasm inside her. With each shuffling backward movement, he revealed more and more of ‘himself’ to his youngest daughter, who was unable to look away.

He’s as thick as my freaking leg. Sweetie Belle swallowed, mouth hanging open behind her hoof. And it just keeps… going!

She’d never seen anything like it. Sure, she’d gotten a glimpse or two over that little horndog Scootaloo’s shoulder when the pegasus was browsing the BZC (big zebra cock) section of pornstable.com… and she’d seen Applebloom’s older brother soft when they’d done their hayloft peeping expedition (much to the boastful Applebloom’s chagrin).

But what she was seeing sliding out of her older sister, the sheer size of the horseflesh attached to her dad, was jaw-droppingly bigger.

It dripped with spouting, frothy fluid… steamed with sheer lust-heat… veins throbbed out on his shaft in orgasmic pulses. For a moment, Rarity’s pussy was being drawn out with his shaft, her throbbing pink inner-lips gripping and suckling to the flesh… before Hondo’s huge medial ring slipped out of her with a resounding…

*pop!*

A rush of creamy batter came gushing out around all sides of the meaty stallionhood… and yet it kept coming, inch after inch of upper shaft. Little patches of pink began to appear, the mottled end of his log-sized cock starting to come into view.

Holy Tartarus, dad!

Sweetie squeaked a grunt of surprise into the hoof covering her mouth as for a moment it seemed like her sister’s entire plot was expanding… a huge bulge rising behind the soaked white skin of her marehood and the patch of skin between the top of her lips and her plump tailhole… It was Hondo’s cockflare stretching Rarity to her limits as it exited her tight pussy.

*Plop!*

That’s… they get that big!?

Sweetie looked at the hoof-sized bell-shaped flare of her father’s stallionhood. It was a bright pink, almost red with the amount of blood that had swollen into it during its flare. The mound of its bulging tip alone was the size of a tennis ball… and it only got wider as it flared out to its saucer-sized edge. She’d never realized just how knobby a fully-flared stallion could be: Hondo’s flare-extremity was covered in pulsing bumps, each meant to embed itself into the soft vaginal flesh of a mare.

Before Sweetie’s very eyes, she saw the straw-sized urethra quiver, its engorged ring trembling in anticipation… before a huge fountain-like rope of thick, steaming stallion-cum shot out of her father’s cock.

It seemed to hang in the air for seconds, propelled with so much force and volume that it was more of a ribbon-like stream than a mere wet wad… before it fell with a heavy plopping splatter across her older sister’s back.

“Dad!”

“Ahhhngmmm~…!”

Sweetie’s second squeak in as many moments came along with a writhing moan of dissatisfaction from her older sister, wiggling her hips as she slumped to the soaked bedsheets, her plot pouring guzzles of white cream… clearly upset that she was being covered with batter instead of stuffed with it.

“S-sweetie! I… uh…” Hondo scrambled, turning to face his youngest daughter.

Sweetie watched the massive black and pink stallionhood swing through the air toward her: Eighteen inches of girthy, pulsing masculinity swung slowly through the air, lagging behind Hondo’s abrupt turn because of its sheer mass. Her eyes couldn’t help but drink in every inch of her father, the impressive monster leaving a fog of steam in its wake as its freshly unsheathed, humid bulk cut through the relatively cooler air of the cabin.

“I… uh… w- unff!” Her father’s stammer was cut off.

Sweetie watched another huge jet of semen blast from her father’s pink tip, the thick rope of stringy cum now firing across the cabin toward her. It reminded Sweetie of the time Scootaloo had aimed and fired a super-soaker cannon at her, except it was a musky, frothing white liquid instead of cold, clear water.

She raised her hooves to protect her face out of instinct… but the huge jet luckily fell short. The cable of stallion-seed landed just shy of her, still covering an impressive distance of cabin flooring with jelly-stickiness that pointed all the way back to her beloved father…

“S-sorry! I… mmm…!” Hondo’s pathetic apology was again cut off by his next ejaculation, adding to the small puddles he’d already left on the floor.

Sweetie peeked through her hooves, realizing she was now safe from receiving an accidental facial from her father… getting instead to see him amusingly scramble with his hefty erection, trying to control his angle.

Another splatter raced out to meet the first two, landing close enough to Sweetie and impact against the furthest steaming puddle of her father’s ejaculate that it sprinkled little spatters of liquid against the teenager’s rear hooves.

Ewwww!

Sweetie stuck her tongue out automatically, grossed out by the fact that it had actually touched her. Immediately she could taste the thickness of the air — the ejaculate was so spattering and thick that it left a fog of musky stallion-ness she could literally taste.

It occurred to Sweetie that she was covered in the potent atmosphere, that it was getting into her mane, her fur, her nose. Everything!

Gross!

“S-sorry Sweetie… I… I got it… Ahnnn!” Hondo grunted, awkwardly pushing his erection down so that it was nearly touching the cabin floor just before he released another gushing spurt. The heavy puddle grew at his own hooves. “G-got it under control…”

“Uhm… o-ok…” Sweetie stammered, unsure what else to say. It was sort of awkward to be staring at your own father… as he held his massive horsecock in his hooves, smiling nervously at you as he nutted burst after burst of ejaculate onto the floor beneath him.

Sweetie watched him cum again, noticing the subtle strains in his nervous face, his eyes never leaving hers. Her own eyes flickered up and down from him to his spurting cock-tip, then back again. Each time she felt her face growing redder and redder with embarrassment, knowing that her father could see her checking his spurting stallionhood out.

“A-almost done… last one, Sweetie.” Hondo grimaced, apologetically.

“O-ok.” Sweetie gulped, watching a smaller jerking clench ripple through her father’s body, culminating in a spewing spatter of almost jelly-thickness from his pink flare, though far less voluminous than any that had come before.

“Ah… phew… there we go. All done.” Hondo nervously mumbled.

Sweetie watched as he slowly hoisted his cock, the pink end rapidly softening, like some kind of obscene anaconda off the ground. A thick strand of cum connected his shrinking flare to the immense puddle that was starting to spread out along the hardwood of the cabin-floor, streaming along as it silently pooled in nooks and crannies.

“Mmmm…. Yes, daddy.” Rarity groaned, rolling half-drunkenly onto her back.

That snapped Sweetie back into some semblance of sanity.

“WHAT THE BUCK IS GOING ON!?”

Setting the Sails...

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Three ponies sat in the relative quiet of the cabin, no longer filled with the pounding and flesh-slapping, moaning and splattering sounds of sex that had filled it beyond bursting only a few moments before.

Sweetie had snagged one of the armchairs, specifically the one furthest from the epicenter of the explosive mess of sex-fluids that painted a clear path back to the site of wanton debauchery. Her older sister, Rarity, had chosen an armchair opposite her, and was carefully brushing her hair — she’d insisted upon taking a quick shower after she’d regained her senses. She wasn’t going to let something so simple as a family crisis interrupt her need to be perfectly coiffed at all times: she most certainly would not allow herself to be seen in a cum-stained-mane state.

In between the two sisters, sitting on the couch, awkwardly covering his lap with a throw pillow, was Hondo Flanks.

For a good minute, the only thing that could be heard was the dull thrum of the cruise ship’s engines and the distant slap of the waves again the huge hull.

Awkward was the simplest word that could be used to describe it.

Sweetie tapped the tips of her forehooves together, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Her mind was doing backflips, trying to process just what she had seen, what she was feeling… and what she should do.

On the one hoof, there was rage and disgust. It felt almost like a betrayal: these two ponies whom she loved so much, who had been such an integral part of her life for so many years… were hiding a secret that threatened to destroy their entire family instantly. A secret that was based on only their own sordid desires, their selfish needs.

On the other hoof, there was a confusing mix of emotion. She really did love both her father and her older sister. Sweetie thought the world of both of them. Rarity was an incredibly talented businessmare… and anypony who couldn’t see just how strikingly beautiful she was, with a perfect manestyle, a slender body, and a thick plot that would turn any stallion’s head was either blind or a colt-cuddler.

And her father was as genuine a stallion as she’d ever met. She compared every male in her life against his shining example. There was no guile or guff in Hondo Flanks — he told you straight up how it was. He was a real gem of a pony, always quick to snicker out a lame dad joke that could turn the corners of your mouth up and brighten your day… and he was a looker.

Sweetie’d never really thought about her Dad this way, but his lustrous mane… his earth-pony-like physique on a unicorn’s more slender frame, his shiny white coat replete with unshorn fetlocks… even his goofy, anachronistic mustache. It was pure DILF-material.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes at herself, annoyed that the term Scootaloo and Applebloom had taught her had managed to stick in her brain. At the time, the two had been describing Night Light, Twilight’s father. But he didn’t hold a candle to her dad: Hondo was way more buff, more stallionly, more sexy.

Sweetie paused the tapping of her hooves, almost annoyed with her train of thought. Did she really think her dad was sexy? Her eyes slid over to the quiet, blushing stallion, who was still staring at the coffee table, unable to look over at her.

If he wasn’t their father, Sweetie would consider Rarity lucky to bag a stallion like that.

Sweetie groaned, annoyed at the emotions. Could she even be feeling a twinge of jealousy? It was all so confusing.

“Ahem.” Rarity began, finally setting down her hairbrush, “Perhaps I should begin, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie looked up at her older sister, trying to keep the annoyance out of her face at just how casual and collected the fashionista was. “Please do.”

“Well for starters, Sweetie, I completely apologise for the way in which you found out about father and I’s tryst. It must have been dreadfully shocking, and was certainly not the way I nor father wished to tell you.”

Sweetie’s eyes flicked over to her sister. “Just… just how long have you two been doing this? Been… fu-”

“Ah ah, Sweetie.” Rarity cut her little sister off. “Please, there is no need to be vulgar, let’s be ladylike — ‘sleeping together’ will suffice.”

Sweetie huffed, crossing her forearms and grumbling. “You weren’t worried about ‘ladylike’ when dad was plowing you into the wall and you were screaming for him to ‘fuck you harder’.” Sweetie smirked, and gestured at her own horn with a nod to her sister, “you’ve still got a bit of drywall stuck to your horn, by the way.”

Rarity blushed, reaching up and removing the small piece stuck on one of the crevices of her horn. “Ah, yes… thank you. Nonetheless, Sweetie, the language of the bedchamber is a different animal than that of polite conversation.” She lifted her nose and blinked, how Rarity managed to constantly keep her poise even in a situation like this was beyond impressive to Sweetie. “As to your question… I believe that we began these cruise-weekends about what… nine years ago?” Rarity directed the question over to Hondo.

The blushing stallion ashamedly nodded, not taking his eyes off of the coffee table.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake, Father.” Rarity huffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like some colt who has been caught with his hoof in the cookie jar! Sweetie now knows and we should all discuss it like adults.”

“Nine years?” Sweetie blinked, the math spinning in her head quickly, she’d never actually counted the number of seasons that Hondo and Rarity’s cruise-trip father-daughter tradition had started but it seemed to make sense. “But, that would mean that you guys started when Rarity was even younger than me.”

“Mm, quite,” Rarity nodded. “It’s a rather long story, but I suppose you have a right to know it all now… You see, all of this was really my fault.” Rarity sighed, tilting her head slightly. “It all started when I came back from that exchange year, the one I spent in Mareis and Hoofington my junior year, back when you were seven. Let me say: across the ocean, in the fashion circles, they have a far more… libertine philosophy when it comes to educating fillies. I had my eyes opened… really many things opened… that year.”

“Gross.” Sweetie stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, Sweetie... You really will need to grow up soon, and quickly.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head slightly. “In any case, upon my return, I shared all of my stories with Mother. Though it was a bit shocking to her at first, she quickly began to get quite wrapped up in my steamy, exotic tales. You know how she can be… Mother is a romantic at heart, even a bit dramatic.”

Sweetie chewed on her lip, suppressing the overwhelming desire to tell Rarity how close she’d just come to creating a black hole from the massive hypocritical statement she’d uttered. It was true that Cookie Crumbles tended to frame her day-to-day as if it were a soap opera… it must be genetic.

“Being the foolish young filly I was, I didn’t bat an eye when Mother began to lament her own lot in life. She claimed to me that her love life had become so dull, uninspired and uninteresting that she was on the verge of a total breakdown.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head. “And it was the ‘filly-power’ era… I was so easily swept up by the idea that Father was a stodgy, controlling and unromantic partner that I believed every word of what she said.”

“Hmf,” Hondo grunted, shaking his head, the first sound he’d made in minutes.

“Sorry again, Father,” Rarity said softly, looking remorsefully over at Hondo, before turning back to Sweetie. “Without even asking him for his side of the story, I decided I would help Mother win back the romance in her life that she’d lost… a few letters to my new contacts in the fashion-world and I had arranged the most exciting series of ‘casual engagements’.”

Sweetie Belle blinked, “You… you helped Mom to cheat on Dad!?”

“I was a foolish filly, and there really is no excuse. I started to get an inkling that Mother had quite overplayed her situation when she began to complain to me that the majority of her dates were of… insufficient stature.”

Sweetie arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Like… they weren’t famous enough?”

Rarity shook her head and tapped her chin. “No no, they… she would say that they were… that they had ‘diminutive characters’.”

“So they were jerks.”

“No, Sweetie.”

“JUST TELL ME!” Sweetie squeaked, angered by the ridiculous tip-toeing.

Rarity huffed and rolled her eyes, “Mother thought they had tiny penises.”

“Oh,” Sweetie Blinked.

“And I can tell you, from rumour and my own stringent vetting process… they were all generously endowed. Mother’s standards were simply ridiculous. She was a complete size queen.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, you see Sweetie, Mother’s rather fanciful requirements were what led me to suspect our dear Father was actually a good, faithful stallion.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head sadly, “Unfortunately by that time Mother had already ended up in one of Prince Zebmakakwe harems.”

“Who!?” Sweetie’s eyes bulged at the strange name.

“A prince of one of the many miniature Zebrican fiefs. He’s particularly notorious for his many many harems and affairs throughout foreign countries,” Rarity tittered, gesturing with her hoof as though she were simply gossipping over her own kitchen table. “He’s known in Zebrica as ‘the striped snake’, because of a white stripe across his rather large and otherwise black stallionhood, he really plays up his virility for political purposes. It’s quite a thing in that country to be seen as a powerful leader to have equally impressive lower bits.”

“Rarity,” Sweetie groaned, putting a hoof to her temple and massaging, blinking her eyes and shaking her head softly. “What the hay does this have to do with you and Dad!?”

“Well don’t you see Sweetie? Once Mother was enticed into the prince’s harem by rumors of his size… and by the way Father, Zebmakakwe has nothing on you, dear… she became off-limits to all others. Even her own husband! It would create a political incident!” Rarity shrugged, “We even had a representative from the Canterlonian State Department advise us of the ramifications!”

“Uh…”

“And so it all came out at once… Mother’s infidelities... Father’s complete innocence and the truth of his quite satisfactory and honorable spousal performance… it was awful!” Rarity threw a hoof to her forehead and feigned swooning, “I realized immediately what a fool I had been, and knew that I had deprived our dear Father of his only outlet for his sexual appetites, I simply had to make it up to him!”

“So you started bucking him!?” Sweetie yelped, stunned.

“Oh no! Not at first.” Rarity scoffed, “I of course offered Father similar access to my list of contacts, as I’d done for Mother. But he quite understandably wanted little to do with the type of ponies responsible for ruining his marriage… and to be honest, Father’s rather blunt… ‘style’ would not likely have appealed to the frou-frou nature of that crowd.”

Sweetie glanced at her father, who seemed to be very intently inspecting a speck of nothing on the nearby coffee table.

“So instead, I decided that I would act as wingmare for him!” Rarity grinned, “I’d always heard tell of middle-aged ponies seeking love on cruises, just like in one of my steamy novellas! And I would be there, first-hoof, able to assist Father in selecting and wooing the ideal lucky mare.”

Sweetie was still glaring at her father, clearing her throat noticeably before directly addressing him. “And you just went along with this? I get that mom cheated on you, but you decided you'd go along with one of Rarity’s crazy schemes?”

“Hey!” Rarity protested.

“Shh…!” Sweetie hissed at her older sister.

“A… a stallion has needs, Sweetie,” Hondo whispered miserably, staring at the floor. “With me unable to even approach your Mother by international law, I… I had to do something!”

“I didn’t know Rarity’s nickname was: ‘something’.” Sweetie huffed, shaking her head.

“Oh please, Sweetie.” Rarity scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You mustn’t be so harsh on Father. His appetite is quite high for a stallion of his age - he couldn’t help it! Nor was he responsible for dipping his hoof in the family pond, as it were... “ Rarity smiled lustily. “You see, on that first cruise, the mares I had a selected and assisted Father in seducing had a habit of absconding rather rapidly from his cabin at the end of every date, often as pale and scared as if they’d just seen a ghost.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I! At first I worried that perhaps Father truly was woefully underequipped, perhaps more gelding than stallion… so I made sure to quickly enter his cabin after one of those failed dates, to make a personal inspection.”

“Rarity! He’s our dad.”

“And he’s a stallion! And upon inspection, quite a stallion! Though you’ve seen that for yourself, now. And there was my poor Father, impressive stallionhood in hoof, blue-balled by some foolish middle-aged cruise-harlot who wasn’t up for a challenge.”

“So you… had sex with him!?” Sweetie Belle shook her head in disbelief, “What the hay?”

“Not right away.” Rarity countered, “At first it was just a little stroking, a little cooing against father’s protests, a bit of playful rubbing…” Rarity sighed, as if she were savoring the memory from years ago like a glass of wine. “He was in his cups, and my loins were just swimming at the unexpectedly large gift that had landed in my lap. He really had no chance. Even at that young age I was quite the filly. I soon had Father on his back, being ridden as a stud like him ought.”

“Celestia’s mercy.” Sweetie stuck her tongue out. “...and then you just… kept doing it? Over and over? You guys have gone on these cruises twice a year, every year! I always thought it was just a father-daughter bonding thing…”

“Bonding? It was-”

“Not that kind of bonding.” Sweetie snapped, quickly. “Seriously, twice a year!”

“Oh no, no.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “The cruises are really just for me Sweetie. My heats have always just been so ferocious, and I always catch the second, later heat as well. These cruises are just a good way for me to prioritize my me time, and make full use of Father’s blessing while I’m in season.”

“W-wha-...”

“Father and I have been enjoying each other outside the cruises as well. Whenever he has the need, I am there for him!” Rarity nodded solemnly, patting a hoof against her chest. “I’d do anything for family — not that a good hard rutting from such a stallion as him is anything but a joy! All Father had to do was give me a signal: wear the tips of his mustache up and we would find some time to secret ourselves away and satisfy our deepest desires.”

Sweetie blinked, her mind quickly racing through every time she had seen her father and Rarity together over the last decade. Never once could she remember her dad’s mustache-tips being down. “What the buck, dad!?”

Hondo, miserable, continued to look at the floor, muttering softly. “A… a stallion has needs…”

“So every time we would come to visit you? And after I moved into the Carousel Boutique when they would visit us… you were both…?”

Rarity nodded.

“Goddesses… please tell me you never did it in my bedroom,” Sweetie moaned.

“Well, it did use to be my guestroom…” Rarity shrugged. “And at times it was more convenient for a quick rendezvous when you and Mother were about in the house…”

“Oh Goddesses, that’s disgusting!”

“Oh please, Sweetie Belle. I always ensured everything was as clean as a whistle. I’m not an animal.”

“You and Dad are behaving like some! I can’t believe this has been going on all along right under my muzzle!” Sweetie groaned, rubbing her temple even deeper. Then her eyes scrunched together as she considered her situation even more closely. “Wait… why would you invite me to this cruise? You probably could have kept getting away with it until… well... until forever!”

Rarity’s smile deepened and she leaned forward, eyebrows shifting upward to a mischievous angle. “Well, Sweetie, I can say that it was never my intention to simply reveal ourselves to you… this cruise was meant to be a father-daughter bonding trip. All daughters.”

Sweetie felt her heart pound in her chest. A rush of adrenaline made the powerful cardiac muscle thump so hard it was like it’d gotten a kick from a mule; a roar of blood throbbed through her, making her ears ring and her cheeks flush a crimson blush. Her big green eyes twitched with nervousness, flicking over to her father and back to Rarity.

“W-w-what?”

“Oh please, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity smiled. “I am your big sister. And I have been worried about how your… development is coming along.”

“I have a coltfriend!”

“Button?” Rarity smiled, almost rolling her eyes. “Sweetie you’re adorable. But simply holding hooves isn’t the kind of activity I’m talki-”

Sweetie stiffened. “What!? I’ve actually done way more than that! I… uh… I…” Sweetie looked over at her father, suddenly unsure of revealing just how sexually mature she’d become to the same pony who had taught her how to ride a bicycle. Her blush deepened further. She didn’t know why she should feel embarrassed when it was his stallionhood half-poking out from behind the cushion!

Rarity finished Sweetie’s paused sentence: “...you gave Button’s little joystick a hoofjob after the school dance. It’s adorable that it should make you blush so much.”

“Wh-H-how!?” Sweetie squeaked. Her mind was racing through the memories of the school dance the previous month: the hurried, fumbling groping behind the school-gym, how slimy and slippery it had felt against her hooves, how quickly he’d started to groan and buck after only a few clumsy pulls… and how guilty she’d felt afterward. She couldn’t even look at Button for a week without turning red! “How did you know!?”

“Cream Heart is in my yoga class, she told me about it the next day.” Rarity shrugged.

“His mom told you?” Sweetie tried to keep the screech out of her voice. “The next day? How did she know!?”

“Button told her, of course.” Rarity giggled.

Sweetie’s eyebrow twitched with pure anger at her coltfriend. “Why would…. Gah!”

“Oh, don’t be too harsh on your beau, dear.” Rarity leaned back into her armchair, flicking her magnificent mane dramatically. “Colts are liable to say anything into a mare’s ear when they are mounted and bucking away… particularly about other recent conquests! Once they’re a bit older they realize a true stud is discrete and doesn’t need to brag.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “I’m sure Button was simply bursting with enthusiasm to tell his Mother during their session that very same evening that it wouldn’t be his first release of the night.”

Sweetie Belle nearly choked, a cough rising in her that seemed to catch in her throat from the sheer shock of it all. “B-button… and his mom?! ...h-horseapples!”

“Language Sweetie!” Rarity scolded, “It’s all quite true. Cream Heart was actually telling me because she was trying to make the case that you and Button could never be a match. The protective little harlot!” Rarity sniffed, turning up her nose. “Can you believe she told me: ‘if size preference was genetic, her son would never be able to satisfy Sweetie Belle’?”

The gears in Sweetie’s mind clinked slowly, struggling to process the information. She was still trying to picture Cream Heart, her coltfriend’s mother… the sweet, genuine mare who always sent her son off with an embarrassing hug and kiss… underneath that same son, her coltfriend, getting a hard, incestuous rutting.

“Throwing her own son under the wagon like that, just to try and desperately cling to him for a few more years!” Rarity shook his head and looked remorsefully at her little sister. “I knew he was on the small side, but I’m sure those parts will catch up, Sweetie. He’s a fine young colt.”

“G-gah!” Sweetie squeaked, gripping her own ears with her forehooves. “I… I d-don’t care about how big Button is dow-”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Rarity cut her off, “You will. Cream Heart might have been going about it for the wrong reasons, but if you are my sister… and Mother’s daughter, to be frank… you’ll soon find that you require a significantly larger than aver-”

“Stop! Just stop.” Sweetie shook her head, trying to exorcise all the information she was getting. “I… I just can’t believe all this! You and dad! Button and his mom… has bucking your family become normal at some point!?”

Rarity took a deep calming breath before addressing her sister. “I really am sorry, Sweetie Belle. I have been dreadfully derelict in my duty as your older sister. You are so innocent.” The fashionista swished her tail. “Yes. It is normal. We don’t talk about it in polite company, of course, and everypony keeps such things as closely guarded secrets… but ‘swimming in the family pool’ is quite the Equestrian tradition.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m not saying everypony does it, Sweetie.” Rarity went on quickly, ignoring her little sister’s reaction, “but many, many do. What a simple and satisfying way to take care of one’s constant heats? Or to give critical experience and learning to the next generation?” Rarity tapped the arm of the chair idly. “There are even different traditions among the tribes…

Pegasi often have small families, with only two or three siblings, close in age. They tend toward sharing first-times between brothers and sisters. Fluttershy and Zephyr were inseparable when she was younger. His awkwardness and her shyness made them as insular a breeding pair as could be imagined… and now poor Zephyr has been left behind. Even your friend, Scootaloo — she sees Rainbow Dash as her big sister. What do you think they are doing on those ‘special’ Saturday nights? Isn’t it strange that Dash’s cloud home always drizzles on those evenings?

Earth ponies are nearly overt about it. Their families have so many brothers, sisters, cousins… they nearly always have a lifted tail near their age happy to help quench those burning needs. I know your friend Applebloom simply loves when the Apple family reunion occurs — there’s a reason she disappears for the entirety of that weekend, Sweetie. And the only reason she doesn’t partake of her legendary brother is simply due to the impossible size difference involved! Big Mac is notorious for having only been completely ‘sheathed’ by two mares… much to my own shame. One is his wife, of course. The other is a certain stetson-wearing apple-farmer. If genetics are a factor in a mare’s… capacity’... for her stud, Applebloom will join that short list soon enough!

And finally… unicorns. As you know, our families about the same size as the pegasi’s; two or three foals at most. I don’t blame Mother for that, though… passing a foal in childbirth is difficult enough without adding one of these to their head! So, our noble tribe has always tended toward… intimate parental relationships. A gentle, guiding Mother showing her colt the way to treat a lady after his first drop… Or a stalwart, earnest ather gently bringing his beloved filly into the joy of the full bloom of marehood... all without unexpected foals thanks to our magic.” Concluding her lecture, Rarity directed a thoughtful smile over toward Hondo.

Sweetie sputtered, each startling fact hitching in her brain… each seeming so impossible, while also connecting subtle cues and clues…. Innuendos she’d always wondered about but never pressed home. It was all too terrible to accept, and yet seemingly impossible to deny.

But she tried, nonetheless.

Sweetie tried to think of another unicorn she knew well, somepony to disprove Rarity’s matter-of-fact revelations. “N-no… Twilight would never sleep with her father. I just ca-”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Rarity hushed her, “First off, yes. I have heard first-hoof from Night Light about his romps with Twilight. He would fall into that category of stallions who are a bit too chatty whilst in the bedroom. But Twilight is an odd case… she actually prefers her brother.”

“Sh-shining?”

“Quite. The way she dotes on him is rather adorable, isn’t it?”

Sweetie scrunched up her face, hot, blushing blood making her feel as red as a Sweet Apple Acres’ apple. “I… I can’t believe it. How would I not have heard about… everything?”

“Discretion, Sweetie.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “Gentleponies certainly do not share the details of the bedroom and the hayloft with the young and the innocent. And despite your physical growth, you have remained as sweetly pure as the snowy color of your coat, little filly.”

Sweetie bristled, the hackles rising on her neck, as she sat more upright. She hated being made out to be immature. “I am not a filly! I’m a grown-up!”

“Of course, of course.” Rarity grinned dismissively waving a hoof. “Your red blush and outrage were deceiving me… my mistake!” She giggled infuriatingly. “Really Sweetie, it’s alright to be shocked and scared, we all had our first times.”

“I’m not scared!” Sweetie slammed a hoof down, fuming. “It’s… it’s just a lot. And I thought you said your first time was overseas! Not with… with Dad.”

Rarity’s smile shrank and she glanced over at Hondo, before continuing. “Well… some firsts were had overseas. Let’s just say that the stallions of those fashion circles have certain preferences… preferences which might lead them to select unorthodox orifices when entertaining a mare.”

“Gross!” Sweetie stuck her tongue out, shaking her head.

“Oh not at all, not at all!” Rarity clucked. “Especially if you know the right preparatory spells! I had half-convinced myself that I shared that preference… before our father became the first stallion to take me naturally.” Rarity grinned, batting her eyelids over at Hondo sultrily, despite that stallion’s refusal to look anywhere but at the coffee table. “Thank you again, Father, for showing me the wonder of true rutting.”

“Bleh! Ick!” Sweetie squeaked. “Don’t make those eyes at dad! And you!” Sweetie shouted, fixing her father with a pointed hoof, her volume loud enough to finally jerk his eyes up. “Would you stop just sitting there like some mopey colt with his hoof caught in the cookie jar? Say something!” Sweetie’s shout reached its telltale squeak. “And that pillow isn’t hiding anything. By the way. You look ridiculous.”

“I must agree.” Rarity nodded, a blue aura snapping over her horn as she telethaumically took hold of the comically undersized throw pillow covering barely a third of Hondo’s groin.

“W-wait, that’s not what I meant for you to d-” Sweetie chirped, covering her eyes with her hooves… though not completely.

Once again, Hondo’s excessive stallionhood made its presence known. Completely uncovered, the girthy trunk of horseflesh rose nearly halfway up his seated body, before the semi-flaccid, mottled-pink top drooped away from the rest of the flesh, creating a sort of floppy, inverted ‘J’.

“H-hey!” Hondo gulped, “Rarity, honey… if Sweetie isn’t ready… if she doesn’t want this… you have to back off. I knew this wasn’t a good idea!” Hondo’s mumbling blush made him hard to hear, quite unlike his usual, boisterous self. “Little Sweetie is still just a filly, we shouldn’t have sprung this on her.”

Sweetie felt her coat-hair stand on end once again. She hated that word.

Filly.

Even her father thought she was an immature little baby. Somepony to be protected! Always the foal of the family. She wasn’t.

“Oh please, Father, a stallion really knows little about such things. I’ve had many a heart to heart with my little sister. I’ve heard the squeaks… some from the bed-springs, some from her muzzle... that come from her room when she thinks nopony can hear. I’ve seen her flushed face in the spring season.” Rarity grinned, arching those eyebrows once again with that pure, elegant look of dripping sex, catching her father’s gaze before pointing her hoof over at Sweetie. “...and I can see how even now she’s peeking from behind those hooves… at her beloved father’s big… fat… stallioncock.”

With each dripping word, Rarity used a small jolt of magic to tug down Sweetie’s hooves. She didn’t find herself resisting much — the fear and shock was blurring in with the excitement of the situation. Her pounding heart was stoked by equal parts nervousness and anticipation.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, she did want to see that massive stallionhood once again… starkly magnificent, beautiful in its rugged, sheer size.

“W-why… why are you getting hard?” The silly question escaped her lips before she could tame the squeaking exhortation. With her hooves down, her wide-green eyes were able to take in every detail of the drooping tip of her father’s penis as it started to inflate, pulsing with throb after throb, slowly erecting back to the even girthier, rigid, shining log of cockflesh she’d seen bucking her older sister earlier.

“I… uh… I can’t help it, having two beautiful mares watching it… watching me.” Hondo gulped, starting to scramble for a throw pillow again. “S-sorry, I’ll cover u-”

“You’ll do no such thing, Father.” Rarity clipped him off, her magic briefly jerking Hondo’s hooves away from his furtive attempts to conceal himself. “Sweetie’s enjoying this view.”

“I-I… I’m… n-not!” Sweetie’s lips mumbled out a denial. Why did her tongue feel so thick in her throat? Why did it feel like her whole body was on pins and needles?

“Oh please, stop.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Look at you Sweetie, sweating like one of Applejack’s sows. Father and I can both see you biting your lip, can see your tail lashing stiffly against the cushions like a puppy-dog… for Celestia’s sake, you’re even rubbing your legs together: is something between them bothering you, Sweetie?”

Sweetie’s eyes briefly flicked off her father’s ostentatious erection to her sister before zipping back. She did feel something inside her… a warm heat… a something she’d felt at other times, in the throes of season, with one of her sister’s vibrating toys in hoof, poised on her bed, back arched off the sweaty sheets in pleasure.

A swollen heat. A dripping heat.

The flesh button of crackling pleasure suddenly seemed to no longer fit in its usual, nestled hiding place. It felt like it had been stung by a honeybee, swollen and alien as it ground against the rapidly dampening curtains around it.

No… why? Not now!

“Relax, Sweetie.” Rarity cooed, her smile both welcoming and predatory… part motherly, part hyena, “Stop fighting it so, don’t be scared. Don’t be a frightened filly. Let those feelings bubble up! Be a mare! Let that primal marehood cry out within you... Take a deep breath through your nose.”

Sweetie felt like she was losing it. Losing control. The sweat was trickling out from under her purple-pink mane now, running in little rivulets down her brow and her neck. Only Rarity’s hypnotic instructions made any sense… a lifeline amidst the churning ocean of confused excitement.

But it was a lifeline drawing her deeper into the maelstrom.

Sweetie took in a deep, snuffling breath. Her olfactory cavity was filled with the musky wash of her father’s pheromones, already richly hanging in the cabin air from the still-cooling puddles of his earlier ejaculations… now brought back to a roaring intensity from the burble of pre-juices starting to slick his nearly fully erect pink cock-tip.

The natural sex-perfume was potent. It was like a mix of all her warm and comforting memories of her father mixed with every trope of masculine studliness in smell-form. Every hug, every paternal pat on the head, blending with debauched visions of rugged stallion-farmponies’ stinking crevices… of dashing, debonair, unicorns whisking her away to love-hotels to defile her… of surly pegasi pinning her in steamy locker rooms.

Sweetie’s mind boiled with pornographic fantasies ignited through that primitive olfactory neural circuit… a biological relic from the ancient plains that could waylay even the most modern of mares and reduce her to the dripping, sweating, drooling mess of a broodmare in heat.

“Ahn~...” Sweetie tried to stifle the little grunt and groan that fulled her sniff, the tremors quickly growing into something more powerful, a shake that became an earthquake. She felt that budding engorgement between her legs become unbearable, like it was about to burst.

And then her lower muscles quivered. Spasmed.

Clenched.

No! Not now, not in front of them!

Sweetie’s throbbing lovebud shot out from its hiding place, her teen-filly petals blooming open and spreading against the fabric of the chair. With three quick squeezes, her fillyhood winked out, sending the pleasurenub tormenting her mashing out against the damp fabric, each time leaving a light splatter of nectar behind in the trifecta of wink-kisses.

At least her seated position hadn’t shown them everything. But there was no denying that they would both know exactly what had just happened. The quivering, pseudo-convulsion and her squeak could not be mistaken.

“Poor Sweetie,” Rarity cooed, standing up and trotting over, placing a hoof under her arm. “Stop fighting it! Trust your big sister. Please.”

Sweetie’s heart was pounding. Her head was racing. Her nethers were throbbing. She felt like she was trapped, trying to do a hundred things at once, with one hoof tied behind her back.

Desperate. Needy.

And she did trust Rarity.

These feelings were real.

And she was tired of being a filly. Of being a squeaky little shocked, scared baby.

She was ready. Ready to be a mare.

“I… I…. OK…” Sweetie gulped, shakily letting Rarity lift her to a standing position, “OK. But I don’t know… how.”

“Leave that to me.”

Anchors Aweigh!

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Rarity carefully lifted her up, steadying her as she got out of the armchair. Sweetie’s muscles were quivering, shaking with excitement. It was a strange mix of excitement and fear, each hoofstep bringing her closer to her father, toward the unknown, toward adulthood.

Hondo caught her eye, spying her nervous, bashful demeanour, printed on her face for all to see. And he responded as he always had — whether it’d been a scraped knee, or a scary spider in the bathtub, or his youngest daughter heartbroken by some childish occurrence… with a warm, loving, fatherly grin.

“Oh Sweetie, you’re so beautiful, my little filly.” The corners of his mouth under his moustache were twisted in that impious grin of his, the words spoken with soft wonder in such a way that Sweetie knew he was telling the truth.

“Dad.” Sweetie blushed deeper, her ears folding back behind her head. She paused in front of him, scraping one hoof behind the other.

“Sorry, sorry. Not a filly, a beautiful young mare. He sighed, wistfully, “but just know, to me you’ll always be my beautiful baby filly, little girl.”

“Stop, sheesh!” Sweetie squeaked back, but she couldn’t hide the happiness that had risen into her cheeks, into the brightness of her eyes. Being called beautiful by her dad was still wonderful… even more so when her dad was also the current stud-target of her overdriven biological affection.

“It sounds weird when you’re sporting that and calling me your baby filly.” Sweetie joked, gesturing at the big log of rugged black flesh rigidly protruding from her father’s groin. Fully erect, it stretched out from her seated father at a 45-degree angle, too full with hot stallion blood to droop, but too heavy in sheer mass to point straight upward.

It wasn’t really that weird. Sweetie admitted internally, briefly chewing her lip as her eyes traced over her father’s physique, lingering on the more enticing bits. It actually feels… kind of hot.

“Well Sweetie,” Hondo cleared his throat, “I just want to say: your older sister had given me the impression that including you on our trip was something you wanted.” Hondo looked over at Rarity, his brow furrowing slightly, gaze taking on the impression of a scolding, disappointed father. “I’m not going to say that she tricked me, but I will say that I’m not very happy with how she’s moved the pieces around on her chessboard.”

Rarity raised a hoof of faux-shock. “Oh, Father I simpl-”

“It’s OK. Dad.” Sweetie grinned, jumping in to protect her big sister. “I know I was hesitating before, but… I think Rarity actually knew better than me what I… uh, need.”

Sweetie rubbed her rear legs against one another again, as if trying to pinch in the dripping moisture there to prevent anything from dripping a little too noticeably. All it did was make her realize just how hot and swollen all of her bits were: the contrast of their boiling plumpness against her cool inner-thighs was remarkable.

“Still, I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Sweetieheart.” Hondo smiled warmly, using that pet name for her, reserved for special occasions only, “Right now is all about you, and what you want. Not me, not Rarity.”

Sweetie let out a little, happy sigh.

Her dad was so amazing. She could always feel his love wrapping her up like a warm blanket, his support always there for her.

But she’d always known that she loved his soul… his body, on the other hoof, she’d never truly considered.

Again, the teen’s green eyes traced over the sitting stallion’s form. From top to bottom, taking in those rippling neck and chest muscles, his still taut abdominal muscles, the little tuft of pubic fur just above his sheathe… And then that main attraction. Sweetie could feel the deep-seeded, ancient feminine biological imperative gears clinking into place as she took in her father’s sheer masculinity.

The steaming column of black and mottled pink flesh, was awakening something deep inside her. Something that screamed for her to claim the contents of those two, big, burly, balls resting between his legs.

So, yes, she loved his soul… but she desired his body.

“I… I do want you, Dad.” Sweetie whispered, the solemn truth escaping her lips, almost without her knowledge. “But I want you to want me.”

Hondo blinked, his smile becoming wider. “Sweetieheart, that is one thing beautiful mares like you and your sister don’t have to worry about.” His heavy bulk of stallionhood twitched, swinging the whole eighteen inch length swung up slightly, jerking with excitement, “I’m aching so bad looking at you two that it hurts.”

Sweetie lifted a hoof to her mouth, covering a giggle. “I thought the joke was that older stallions were supposed to have trouble getting it up.”

“Never with our Father.” Rarity interjected, “and I keep him on a rather aggressive cocktail of vitamins and supplements during these cruises, he should put even a schoolcolt in rut to shame.”

“Poor dad.” Sweetie giggled. “I… I guess… I can help?”

“Yes!” Rarity grinned, stepping forward, reaching out with a hoof and taking hold of her father’s cock, as casually as if she were grabbing a hairbrush from her dresser. Grasping about the thick, veiny, black base, her hoof not even close to wrapping around the huge width, she started to tilt the whole intimidating column downward. Sweetie actually had to shift backward to avoid being booped on the nose by the down-swing of her father’s cock. Rarity had brought the length to aim directly at her, between her eyes… making her feel as if she were staring down the barely of a throbbing, bell-shaped, mottled pink cannon. “Why don’t you give Father’s cock a big, sloppy, kiss?”

“Woah, there…” Hondo moved forward, taking Rarity’s hoof off of his length and clearing his throat to get attention. Perhaps he’d sensed Sweetie’s nervousness, or maybe he knew about Rarity’s predilection for aggressive tutoring, but his interjection brought Sweetie’s ears back up from where they’d pinned to her head with nervous fear. “Lot’s of time for that later, Rarity, honey… let’s take it slow with your little sister, hm?”

“Ah, oh…” Rarity blushed, bowing back. “Of course…”

“Th-thanks.” Sweetie blinked, still nervous. “S-so… what should I do?”

“How about you start with giving your dad a big old hug?” Hondo grinned, spreading his forelegs wide and inviting.

Sweetie looked at the gesture, one she’d seen so many times in her life. She knew just how powerful and protective that bear hug of an embrace would be, and she wanted more than anything to jump into his arms now, to feel that comfort and closeness.

But this time was different.

Between herself and Hondo’s chest was a rather imposing interloper.

Over? Between? Around?

There was no way to avoid it. It was a metaphor, really: if she wanted to be close with her father, she’d need to confront his pure, stallionly, sex.

Sweetie swallowed, pushing down that one last internal hesitation. Everything else was telling her this was right — the trust and love from the ponies she cared about most, her pounding heart screaming for affection… and her burning feminine needs that wanted to bathe in the pool that was her stud’s body.

She leapt into her father’s arms.

Instantly, she felt her hug fully returned, wrapping around the small of her back and pulling her in close, snuggling her head under his chin in a warm nuzzle. Safe, protected. Loved.

She felt something else too.

Pinned between them was her father’s cock.

She was stunned by just how hot the thick sausage was.

The underside of his stallionhood slid up against her belly, pressing in against that downy fur. It felt like she was pressing up against the pipe of a radiator: it was so warm, so much hotter than she had ever thought that the body temperature of a pony could rise to.

It was moist too.

Not soaking, but covered in a light sheen of sweaty musk. Almost like the morning dew on the grass, if that dew was warm and slimy… as slick as cooking oil, and more pungent than her older sister’s most potent perfumes.

It wasn’t soft or yielding either.

Sweetie had thought it might be soft, squishy like some of the adult toys she and the girls had sometimes stolen out of the depths of Rarity’s closet to giggle and squeal over. Floppy and yielding mixes of rubber and silicone that her gaggle of friends would comically waggle at one another during slumber parties. No, this was like… rigid iron coated in a thin layer of velvet meat.

Hondo’s penis pressed into her belly as it squished between them, not compressed at all by their hug. The stiff, blood-filled engorgement digging as far up her chest as to touch the bottom of her ribcage.

Sweetie found her teeth nervously gnawing her lip once again as she dimly remembered her high-school anatomy classes, remembered just how much of her insides would be shifted out of the way to admit this… beast attached to her father.

“Oh Sweetie,” Hondo sighed, nuzzling the side of her head with his face, “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

Sweetie Belle squeezed back, her arms barely able to reach behind the broad expanse of her larger father’s shoulders. She released her half of the squeezing hug, pulling her hooves to the side of their little sandwich of flesh and trying to sneak them in through the sides: Hondo’s… monster… was jamming a particularly sensitive spot just under her ribcage, and she wanted to shift it so that they could embrace a little more comfortably.

Sweetie suddenly realized what she was about to do, almost without thinking. She was about to grab hold of her dad’s penis. His erect penis.

His gigantic, throbbing, black and mottled pink, bucking penis!

Sweetie pushed back from the embrace slightly, enough to look down between the two of them so she could actually see what she was doing with her hooves. Her eyes flicked down to the huge stallionhood pressing into her, then back up to her father’s face. She couldn’t hide the anxious excitement in either her face or voice.

“C-can… can I touch it?” Sweetie nervously asked, eyes looking up plaintively at Hondo.

“Sweetie…” Hondo grinned, “I’d love it if you’d do that.” Hondo leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on his teenaged daughter’s forehead, close to the base of her horn. A tender gesture he’d done so many times before… and yet never with as much of an erotic charge.

Sweetie shivered from the kiss, given with a butterfly’s lightness close enough to her horn to send an electric tingle racing through her body. She swallowed, steeling herself… then reached forward and grasped her father’s stallionhood.

Hot.

Big.

Alive.

Her brain only seemed capable of forming simple adjectives, everything else coming far short of the very erotic kinesthetic experience she was enjoying.

A pony’s delicate frog, their tender underhoof, was a very sensitive thing. A filly’s even more so: girls tended to keep their hooves well-manicured and soft, avoiding the callouses that plagued many colts and stallions. So Sweetie could really feel every pulse of her father’s throbbing, slick, scorching erotic flesh… drinking in the very touch as she made her first physical connection with a fully grown, very masculine, stallion.

“Mmm… Sweetie…”

Her hooves had first gripped a bit below the wider bell-bulb tip that was Hondo’s cockhead, close to the random demarcating line where his pure ebony skin of his shaft started to give way so suddenly in speckles and spackles to the nearly fluorescent pink of his fearsomely girthy flare.

She started to slide lower, marveling at how quickly her hooves began to separate from one another, the width between them quickly expanding to make it impossible to encompass her dad even with both hooves. She traced over fat, tree-branch-like veins and throbbing, arterial bulges, powerful plumbing conduits needed to keep such an impressive specimen stuffed to the brim with boiling-hot, racing stallion-blood.

“W-woah…” The breathless exhortation of wonder escaped her lips as she reached Hondo’s medial ring, two-thirds of the way down his shaft. It really felt like a giant donut of flesh, like one of the larger elastic band rings she might use to pull her mane into a quick ponytail had been snapped around her father’s cock. But just how wide it forced her hoof-grip to spread was what really shocked her… and the fact that as she continued downward, hooves beginning to play over the base of his stallionhood, his girth increased geometrically.

To an extent, it made sense. A stallion’s base, particularly an extraordinarily well-hung stallion, would need to be massive to support the weight and structure of the rest of his erection. But that didn’t change just how stunning it was to actually feel that girth in your own hooves. To imagine that size spearing into you, into something that was so much smaller, tighter, tinier.

Sweetie gulped, heart pounding as her hooftips met the folds of skin where her father’s sheath connected to his groin. She tried, but couldn’t keep the ringing thoughts about just how far apart her hooves were by the time she had reached his base. Forget about wrapping one hoof around him: she couldn’t even come close with two!

She slid further down, careful not to press too hard against the very different feel of wrinkly, smoothness… the strange, oxymoronic paradox of folded, leathery, but slick skin that was her dad’s ballsack… and then the feel of the huge orbs themselves, swelling out against their containment, as large as buckballs… far larger than Button’s robin’s eggs when she copped a quick feel that dance night.

“Ah… S-Sweetie… h-hang on… s-shit!” A sudden warning slipped from Hondo’s gritted teeth.

At first, Sweetie thought somepony had dropped a cup of warm water against her. It felt the same — first a splat of warm wetness against her sternum, which waterfalled down the front of her breast, spreading wader over her taut belly and filling up her belly button, spilling down across her teats and her lap.

But only at first.

Quickly she realized, the consistency wasn’t water-like. It was sticky, like honey… but fast-flowing, like massage oil.

And the smell.

Whatever had filled her nostrils so much earlier, flooding her brain with fantastical images of stallions and fatherly love, was a mere prelude to the raw, foggy, sex-stink of this spill.

“S-sorry…~!” A second grunt, and a second squirt.

This time Sweetie saw the clear splatter of thick, heavy, sticky pre-cum shoot from her father, powerful enough to almost look like Button’s full orgasm from Sweetie’s clumsy, behind-the-gym hoof-job, despite it being nothing more than his pre-ejaculatory burble… a slick coating of stallion juice meant to prep her, stain her, slick her for more.

For a brief moment, Sweetie’s mind flicked to the thought that her father had peed on her. She’d seen stallions take a leak in the bushes before, as any curious filly would — but any thoughts of having been accidentally covered in her father’s urine quickly left her mind. His stallionhood wasn’t flopping out of his sheathe, it was hard as a column of granite. The liquid wasn’t yellow and watery… it was sticky, clear and thick.

And it didn’t smell like acrid, ammonia stink.

It smelled like the richest, muskiest perfume she’d ever whiffed. Like an orgasm in olfactory form. And now she was drenched in it.

Sweetie moved her hooves up and off her father’s cock, dredging up a good-sized dollop of the pre-ejaculate with her as she did. The thick liquid dripped over her hoof-edge and her frog, like spilled honey slowly tracing out in different directions, pulled slowly by gravity.

Idly, unconsciously, almost instinctively, she lifted her right hoof to her mouth and cleaned the warm stickiness from the edge before it had a chance to drip off.

What did… what did I just do?
Sweetie blinked to herself, quivering at the thought that she had just tasted, and then swallowed something that had just burbled out of her dear old daddy’s throbbing stallionhood.

And what a taste!

The smell was but a mere appetizer! Just like catching a sniff of your favorite food at a five-star restaurant when the meal is plated before you, that smell is magnified a thousand-fold when presented to the superior sensory organs of taste.

Bursts of fireworks went off in Sweetie’s neurons. Her delicate and budding physiology was already primed to bloom, to kickstart the powerful biological machinery that drove every female pony’s reproductive-drives… injecting the potent chemistry of a virile stallion’s testosterone and natural sexual-magic-laced juices had the effect of squirting lighter fluid onto the flickering fire of Sweetie’s arousal… exploding it into an inferno.

“Ah… Ahn~...” Squeaky Belle moaned, the ripple from the forbidden-taste of her father spreading from her mind in an expanding web through all of her muscles and nerves, out to her extremities, leaving fire in its wake… before crashing in toward her center, her core, her marehood.

“D-dad!” Sweetie groaned out, tilting her head down in reaction to the rush of feeling. It was thrumming in her now, fluttering in her stomach like butterflies, leaving her perched on the very knife-edge, about to tumble into the oblivion of orgasm.

“Shh… Sweets…” Hondo cooed, leaning forward into her tucked head, nuzzling gently along her brow… before parting his lips and planting a tender kiss along the nape of her ear, licking the crevice where pinna met cranium with his tongue… making it flick in reaction… before sliding over and planting a wet kiss at the base of her horn.

Her father’s wet lips felt cool against the relative burning heat of her horn. But it still was one straw too many.

Like a rending crack in a hydroelectric dam, starting slowly at first, then streaming out in a spiderweb of directions, causing bedrock and concrete to fail and disintegrate, Sweetie’s orgasm broke through.

Oh… oh G-goddessess… I’m going… I’m going to~!

Sweetie felt her body acting of its own accord, lifting her plot off the couch in spasm. Her pink-purple tail lifted up high, lashing at the air like a wild flag waved by an over-excited filly cheerleader as she curved and arched her back, leaning hard into the cock-sandwich she was making with her father as she strained to instinctively present her plot as high as possible.

Sweetie thrust backward in time with the conclusive spasms she felt racing through her, each one concluding in a powerful, teeth-clenching wink of her fillyhood. Muscles she didn’t even know she had were pulling her virginal vaginal tunnel tight in milking throbs that flashed open her slender outer lips, revealing flicker after flicker of bright-pink, steaming-hot inner filly-flesh.

“Oh my!” Rarity grinned, the only pony well positioned to see her sister’s frenzied copulation with an invisible stallion, humping madly at the air.

“Eeeeep!” Squeaky Belle let out a desperate cry, unable to hold back whatever pressure was pushing, surging at her fillyhood. And that’s when the dam burst.

*Splat!*

*Pitter pitter pitter…~*

The sound of wet, splashing, fillycum rocketing out in two distinct geysers to crash against the wood cabin floor, followed by the heavy remaining dribble of that fountain-like exertion filled everypony’s ears.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, ohmygosh....” Sweetie’s squeaks became faster, desperate as her face flushed even redder. She was mortified.

She’d never done that before. Wet herself!

And now she’d gone and done it in front of her dad and older sister!

She pulled away from Hondo’s horn kiss, still-shaking from the after-effects of her orgasm, face still contorting even as her tight little pussy continued to flutter weak half-winks.

“Ohmygosh I’m… I’m so sorry…!” Sweetie whined, looking behind herself, trying to see the steaming puddle of sticky filly juice she’d created.

“Sorry for what? Darling?” Rarity purred, stepping closer and brushing up against the side of her sister. “That was marvelous, I wish I had such explosive results from a mere horn-kiss!”

Sweetie’s ears folded against the base of her skull, she shrank in embarrassment, eyes flickering over to her sister. “I… I wet myself!”

Sweetie watched her older sister grin, a cocked eyebrow taunting her as she shook her head in amusement.

“Oh really?” Rarity’s hoof slipped lovingly down Sweetie’s side, faster than the teen could react, slipping down around her flank and dipping into the blossomed pink petals of her sex.

“Ahn~” Sweetie moaned, head slipping backward and eyes crossing in pleasure as her older sister’s hoof artfully slid along her inner-lips… just brushing against her love-nub, lingering there for perhaps a second too long before tantalizingly pulling away.

Rarity lifted her hoof up to her mouth, carefully licking it and savoring whatever she’d collected from Sweetie Belle’s honeyblossom.

“Mmm… delightful, Sweetie Belle. And certainly not anything to be ashamed of.”

“I… I…” Sweetie’s blush continued unabated, less from shame and more from a stunned reaction to having been hoofed and tasted by her older sister.

“If you’re going to be ashamed by anything, it should be denying our Father a view of the delectable blossoming he has wrought on his youngest’s once-pristine flower.” Rarity began to lift Sweetie up, using a combination of both a hoof and her own magic, twisting her slightly to coax her to turn about. “Come on! Up! Up! give our paternal stud a flash of your steaming bottom.”

Sweetie went along with it for a moment, her mind struggling to catch up with Rarity’s flow. She was almost all the way turned around, one leg on either side of her father’s seated lap, in the perfect position to give her patriarch a front-row seat to the dripping, flashing-pink, musk-coated mess that was her plotside… when she squeaked again, ears folding even flatter, before she grasped her own flagging tail and yanked it between her own legs, manually tucking it to occlude even a glimpse of her tailhole and fillyhood.

“W-wait!” Sweetie shamefully chirped.

Rarity clicked her tongue, and harumphed. “The time for modesty is long past, dear.”

“I said, wait.” Sweetie puffed her cheeks out, annoyed. “Sheesh. Is… is there any way we could do, uh, this… without you guys seeing my, uh… bits?”

Hondo tilted his head now, looking equally as confused as Rarity. “What’s wrong, Sweetieheart?”

Sweetie Belle, gulped, her eyes flicking from Rarity over to her father. Chewing the bottom of her lip, she mulled over her options… including screaming at the top of her lungs and running out of the cabin like a madmare. The moment for escape passed, her father’s caring glance too much to run from… and with a sigh, she confessed.

“I… I uh, I’m kind of… sensitive about how I look… down there.”

“Whatever for?” Rarity smiled, “From what I’ve seen you are simply stunning.”

“Rarity!” Sweetie huffed, shaking her head. “You don’t need to flatter! I… I know. I’m not like you or dad.” She sighed again, the dress making her blush, twiddling her hoof amongst the tailhairs she was clenching to her backside. “I’m not… black like dad… or snow-white like you… I’m… well… I’m…”

“Pink.” Both Rarity and Hondo answered at the same time, still confused.

“You both knew?” Sweetie chirped.

“Sweetie, I changed your diapers for almost two years. I got plenty of looks.” Hondo rolled his eyes, “Hay, I’ve probably rubbed more lotion on that tush than you have.”

“Dad! So weird.”

“Yes, Father, let’s not bring up diaper changing, please. Quite strange.” Rarity sniffed.

Hondo shrugged gesturing at his erect stallionhood, and his two daughters, each covered in types of his sexual fluids. “Oh… that’s weird. Sure.” He rolled his eyes.

“And I’ve known for ages, Sweetie. I helped change diapers too.” Rarity ignored their father, shaking her head in confusion at her younger sister. “Whatever is the matter with pink bits?”

Sweetie slumped. She wished she could curl into a ball. “They’re ugly. Diamond Tiara was telling us that the ugliest bits she’d ever seen were that weird monkey-creature’s of Twilight’s pink junk.” Sweetie stared at the ground, remembering the little gossip sessions with all her girlfriends. “Then all the girls started talking about how pink bits were weird, like the bits on a pig… I… I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, Sweetie,” Rarity scoffed. “It sounds like your friends were describing animal bits more than pony-bits.” She giggled. “And even if they weren’t it’s all such silly stuff. Back in my day we used to titter about stallions and mares with red tackle. Let me assure you, a mare with a pink plotside is considered a rare, beautiful delicacy amongst my circles.”

“R-really?”

“Yes!” Rarity scoffed, muttering under her breath “Though, I am concerned about Twilight’s pet human flashing himself to teenaged fillies… Now quit being a silly-filly and let go of that tail.”

Sweetie gulped, looking back over her shoulder at her father, who was still waiting expectantly with that wonderful and warm smile. He nodded slightly at her.

Sweetie let go.

Her tail shot up. Her little waggling dock was still flagging almost painfully hard, as erect as Hondo’s big black ‘tail’.

She watched the wonder dawn over her Dad’s eyes as he got a complete view of her plot, only a few inches from his face, with her straddling him on the couch, her forehooves planted on his knees, and rear hooves spread wide on the couch for balance.

She’d inspected herself in the mirror, she had a good idea of what he was looking at.

Beneath the sweeping fall of her beautiful, though sweaty, pink and purple tail would first be the smoothness of her white underdock. An inner-curve of skin that was wonderfully sensitive, ending almost too quickly, shifting in tone from her coat’s white-cream color to a lightish pink as it ran up against the slender, tight ring of her tailhole.

Her ponut was small, diminutive even. The sides of the miniature ring barely grazed the pert-roundness of her athletic, tight glutes. The pink rosebud clenched tightly, the small wrinkles quivering as if they could feel the paternal gaze tracing over them.

Just below, after a couple of wrinkles of pinkish flesh, was another patch of smooth, untouched skin, only an inch or so, slick with dewy humidity from the sheer heat of her plot against the relatively cooler atmosphere… the perineal space just before her fillyhood.

The fillyhood itself rose from her backside like a small hill. She was small down there. Tight. The cleft of her exterior mons, the actual parting of her labia majora only a few inches, even in this engorged, aroused state. Her lips were puffy though, like two pink pillows, soft mounds that any stallion would love to rest his ‘head’ against.

And she was blossoming.

She could feel her inner lips, swollen with blood pushed from her throbbing heart, peeking out from inside the puffy outer lips, the deeper dark-pink outlining the cleft of her boiling inner-pussy.

Further down, and there was the pearl of her teenaged-sex. A fat little nub of an erect clitoris, visible even without winking, thrumming like a silent guardian in front of her drooling slit, demanding that any invader grind against it to plumb the soaking depths within.

He could probably even see her hanging teats from that angle. Nothing to drool over, not like her older sister’s beautiful mammaries… more just a couple of bumps, really. The white mounds were tipped by a pair of thin eraser-like nipples, both as hard as diamonds.

She felt her father’s breath against her, like a warm wash of wind. And she winked in response.

The flash of pink, of her love-petals opening up for her Dad, briefly tantalizing with a view into the twisting, oh-so-slender, steaming teen-cunt depths brought a swift reaction.

“Ah!” Sweetie squeaked yet again, as she felt a long, languid, lick against her backside.

Her Dad’s tongue.

Starting as far down as the top of her mound, its rough, flat-texture pulling all the way up and across her dripping exterior, not even pausing as it passed upwards, pulling against her tailhole and past her dock in one, delicious slurp.

“D-dad!” Sweetie yelped, arching her back like a cat.

“Sorry, Sweetieheart. Couldn’t resist.”

“Sheesh!”

“There’s nothing wrong with Father having a little taste.” Rarity clucked, tapping Sweetie petulantly on the nose, before turning to fix her father with a glare. “Except that my poor sister is already dripping with readiness. Really, Father, you mustn’t prolong the poor thing’s suffering!”

Suffering? Prolong? Sweetie’s mind tried following her sister’s strange terminology but its meaning was completely lost on her. All she did know that her body wanted something. Wanted it bad.

It wanted to be filled.

“I… I am ready.” Sweetie nervously mumbled. “I just… I don’t know how to start.”

Hondo glanced at Rarity, then back at Sweetie… as if unsure if he could make a suggestion. Before Rarity could cut him off, he threw out his idea. “How about you… just sit in your Dad’s lap?”

Rarity actually nodded, satisfied. “Exactly what I was going to suggest, Father!”

Sweetie let her hooves drop, plopping down onto her father’s groin with a wet squelch.

She felt the rigid hardness of Hondo’s shaft nestle itself between her buns, his heavy girth easily filling the tight space between her athletically-toned asscheeks and pressing up against her dock, his length stretching up the curve of her lower back to a rather concerning height.

“W-woah…” Sweetie moaned, finding her balance in the new position, wriggling backward. Her movements sandwiched the throbbing black flesh against her own plot, with hot-dripping, pink orifices kissing against equally hot black, girth cockbase flesh. Heat against heat. Pleasure nerves against pleasure nerves.

Grinding.

“Woah is… fuckin’ right.” Hondo grunted under his breath, taking his hooves and wrapping them around Sweetie’s waist, pulling her back against him.

His big muscular arms were so much larger than her, so much more powerful than her small body. And the pressure they created as they pulled her upturned-butt and the exposed flesh of her sex against his base in a grinding hump was beyond intense.

“Mmmf!” Sweetie’s eyes shut briefly, her head tilting back at the stimulation.

“No no no!” Rarity’s scolding brought them both back to reality. “Like that Sweetie has no agency! She’s at your whim!” Rarity’s horn scorched into life. “Plus… I can’t see a thing.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes snapped back open as she felt the telltale lift of a telekinetic field. Rarity was pulling her up and away from her father’s grasp.

“A filly should be able to ride her first time, don’t you think?” Rarity hummed, lifting her sister further up.

Sweetie could feel her father’s massive stallionhood pressing against the small of her back. She glanced back, to see that Rarity was using her levitation on it as well, trying to maneuver it so that it would slip under Sweetie’s body, instead of up along her back. Not an easy feat when it stretched nearly two feet up in the air.

But Rarity was a skilled unicorn, and lifting her sister up some twenty inches while simultaneously pressing down her father’s erection was well within her abilities.

There was a brief moment, right as Sweetie finally reached the critical height, and Hondo’s stallionhead slipped under her.

A brief moment where the huge, mottled-pink cockhead slid past her plotside. The steaming, pre-ejaculate burbling head tracing a burning bath over her ponut… its protruding dome pressing into her lips, tantalizingly shocking her with just how huge it was… before sliding past and under.

And just like that, Rarity snapped off her field.

Letting Sweetie drop onto her father’s log of a black, throbbing sausage.

Straddling it.

The thick curve of the penis buried itself into her sopping, plump lips, squishing them out of the way and grinding up against her clitoral bud, a battle of erect, iron-hard flesh.

“Ahhnn!” Sweetie Belle quivered, shifting her legs, mashing more of her pussy along the dorsal side of her father’s middle shaft, riding him… Polishing him like some kind of wet chamois along an iron rod.

“There we are!” Rarity grinned. “Now Sweetie… ride him.”

Sweetie had never ridden anything before.

When you have a friend with the kind of buzzing wingpower and scooter-skills that Scootaloo did, learning how to ride a bike was sort of low on your list of priorities.

Sweetie didn’t know how to ride.

But her body did.

Like a dog shamefully dragging its butt across the carpet, Sweetie squatted down further, letting all of her weight rest on her haunches, further digging the curve of Hondo’s shaft up into the plump, moist, steaming-pink squishiness of her aroused fillyhood.

“Mmmf!” Sweetie moaned out, feeling the ebony-black cockflesh press into her throbbing lovebutton. Her teen filly-clit was pounding, each beat of her racing heart making it quiver out in its almost fully protruded state. The sticky mix of filly-cum and stallion-pre sizzled at the red-hot connection between bud and shaft.

It feels… so good!

Sweetie pivoted her hips instinctively, trying to put more of her aching sex in contact with that wonderful pole of meat grinding against it, leaning forward ever so slightly, her butt shifted backward along Hondo’s trapped cock, slathering him in his youngest daughter’s sticky arousal as she slid along him.

“Oh Sweetie…” Hondo breathed with wonder, placing a hoof on the small of his daughter’s back to guide her.

But Sweetie didn’t need guidance. She couldn’t even feel her father’s steadying hoof against her back. The flare of sheer pleasure from grinding into her Dad’s dick had blanked out everything else: sliding along him felt amazing.

She wanted more.

“Ah… ahn~!” Sweetie moaned, starting to rock back and forth, her back arching and straightening as she slid up and down, in a steady rhythm, polishing the same three inches of her father’s cock. Each time Sweetie slid forward, sitting more upright... until her protruding nub of a clit popped free from the friction of the cock-grind, before reversing direction and becoming more horizontal… until her steaming tailhole broke its lewd kiss with the honey-coated slickness of Hondo’s thick penis.

Back and forth.

Over and over.

“She’s a natural.” Rarity grinned, stepping right into the action, her face hovering just a few inches from Hondo’s lap, taking in the wild sight of incestuous foreplay. “Her button is larger even than Mother’s! And she slides like she was on ice!” Rarity looked past Sweetie Belle, looking over at Hondo. “I think my sister will have a natural affinity for cowpony style.”

Rarity grinned, then moved her face to right between Hondo’s knees. Sweetie looked down at her through the haze of pleasure that shrouded her vision like a fog, unfocusing her with each pulsing grind.

“Ahn~!” Sweetie tossed her head back, throwing her sweaty mane across her face. Hondo had placed his other hoof on her other asscheek, and was now pulling her tight little flanks apart, exposing even more of her plotside to the grinding friction over his veiny, bumpy erection.

“Sweetie…” Rarity’s voice brought the teen-filly’s languid, dizzy eyes back forward. She could see Rarity pressed in against Hondo’s mottled-pink cockhead, her dainty nose lewdly booping against the stallion’s extreme tip when each angry-red throb of his heart pulsed his monstrous appendage a quarter-inch larger. “...you must try to ride a little longer. Slide further, darl-.”

Rarity’s advice was cut off mid-sentence as Hondo bucked slightly, bouncing Sweetie up and back down, sending a detonation of pleasure through her system. He had shifted his whole cock an inch forward, jamming his stallionhead against Rarity’s lips.

The skillful seductress didn’t miss a beat, however. Parting her lips, she took the dome-tip protrusion of his head into her mouth. Sweetie watched her older sister suckle their father’s cocktip for the briefest of moments, before artistically swirling her pink tongue as much as it could extend around his end, rolling it out like an unfurled flag of muscle.

Just as quickly, Rarity finished her suckle and returned her attention to Sweetie.

“Darling,it would be a waste to not make use of all that delicious sliding-space wouldn’t it? Father is such a large stud, after all.”

Sweetie groaned, trying to think how she could slid further without losing her balance. It was hard to think. Hard to move. Hard to breathe.

Hard to do anything except languish in the enrapturing pleasure of her teen-pussy grinding against her daddy’s-dick.

But she did.

Rarity’s clear blue eyes were watching her.

She didn’t want to let her beloved older sister down. She wanted to make her proud.

Slowly, shakily, Sweetie adjusted her forehooves, making sure they were well-positioned to take the bulk of her weight, carefully balancing them on her father’s strong knees, sturdy rocks in this erotic storm. With her body steadied, she started to slide.

Pushing backward at first, she quickly broke new territory, leaving the well-oiled patch of cock-shaft she’d thoroughly polished, her pink lips slathering new, stickier skin as she slid further down her father’s pulsing black erection.

A huge, tall bump dug through her flesh as she went: her father’s medial ring was impossibly large. Even larger was the trunk-like base below it. It was hard to truly focus on the sensations flooding her, but her father’s base-girth was so wide she could scarcely feel the curvature of his stallionhood against her. It was more like she was sliding along some kind of obscene table-surface of erectile tissue, his pole’s circumference was so huge.

And then she bumped into his groin.

“Oh, babe!” Hondo groaned. It was the first time he’d called Sweetie that. His powerful hooves dug into her pert glute-muscles, squeezing as they pulled her tight against him, bringing her tight little tailhole wetly kissing against his pubic tuft.

Sweetie was almost horizontal. Hovering in a bridge-position over the whole of her father’s length. She could feel its heat against her belly, her chest. It brought her head down, nearly face to face with her older sister… currently lashing their father’s pre-juice burbling urethra with a series of darting kisses and skillful licks.

Rarity nodded at her, winking impishly as she kept at her teasing erotic assault.

Sweetie swallowed, steeling herself as she began to reverse direction, digging the tips of her hooves into those sturdy dad-knees, she began to pull herself back up the long, steamy road she’d just traversed, inch by tantalizing inch… having to pull against the clinging grasp of her father as well.

She bumped back over that thumping medial ring, one of her eyes twitching unconsciously from pleasure-overload as she did so… back to the grinding pole-sized area she’d frequented earlier… and beyond.

Up, up, up.

Further along his lengthy upper shaft, past where his black cock-skin broke into speckles of pink, before finally transforming into the burning reddish-pink tone that signified the last three inches of his glorious length.

Like a squeegee dredging a thick wave of fluid, Sweetie’s tight fillyhood-lips sent a torrent of her and Hondo’s juices spilling up the shaft. They would have splashed right into Rarity’s face, if not for the massive bloom of Hondo’s flare-edge, a bell-like protrusion that diverted the spray into a sprinkle that trickled off from all sides.

Rarity still managed to catch some of it — her tongue was almost a blur.

Sweetie felt her clitoris mash against the underside of Hondo’s glans ridge, their two most sensitive nerve-concentrations coming together at the end of the erotic slide in a kiss so potent it stung.

“F-ffff!” The curse died on Sweetie Belle’s lips as she dug her front teeth into her lower lip and squeezed her eyes closed, the building ache in her loins once again reaching a crescendo.

She didn’t feel like a filly anymore.

She felt like… like some kind of Goddess of the bedchamber. Riding her impressive stud, marking him, coating him in her. That dim fear and anxiety was buried under so many layers of want, of need… of burning biological mechanisms, it wasn’t even a memory.

She was Sweetie Belle. She was a mare.

“Y-yes!” Sweetie gasped, sweat launching from her brow as she tossed her mane backward, thrusting forward again to mash her clitoris against her father’s ridge a second time, without fear of the sensation. “Yes, Dad!”

“Good girl, Sweetie!” Rarity purred, breaking her suckle, her impish eyebrows arching with mischief. “You deserve… a reward.”

Rarity’s horn crackled into blue, humming life, and a field leapt forward… encircling and grasping around the teenaged filly’s pulsing, red-hot, lovebud.

AH! F-FUCK!

“FUCK!” The thought screamed out of Sweetie’s gut — the sensation far too intense to be stifled by her usual aversion to vulgarity.

Her clitoris was buzzing!

It felt like that one time she tried pressing one of Rarity’s purloined sex toys against her belly-button as a lark, clicking the button and giggling at the ticklish hum of the horn-shaped vibrator before passing it over to Applebloom and Scootaloo, all three laughing about the naughty too throughout their slumber-party.

Except this was way more powerful.

Faster. A higher frequency.

Charged. Crackling with sparks of magical energy.

Hot. Pulsing in waves of warm heat.

And completely centered and surrounding her clit.

It was like the field had been sent to her love-nub’s very base. Deep into her body. Making sure every nerve ending of the ur-pleasure centerpiece of feminine joy was fully saturated.

“S-SHIttTTtT!” A second screaming slur escaped Sweetie’s lips before her every muscle locked down, tightening in a paroxysm of pure pleasure overload. She could feel her insides scrambling, her vaginal walls clenching and releasing in tonic-clonic convulsions. She could sense the flood of stupefying pleasure neurochemicals flooding her cortex, washing out her conscious thoughts as she struggled to hold on.

The avalanche was starting, and there was no way to stop it.

“Ruh… rA… Rah” Sweetie Belle’s eyes crossed and uncrossed as she stupidly tried to form her sister’s name, to beg her to release the pleasure spell she’d conjured up, quivering and grinding autonomically against her father.

But Rarity simply grinned and observed, slowly standing up to all four hooves.

“Go on then, Sweetie. Let go. Cum.”

Sweetie’s left eye rolled, her mouth drooped open and her tongue slipped out of her panting mouth. Hot, steaming breaths huffed in and out of her as she sucked air, trying to feed the enormous strain of oxygen needed to supply her screaming muscles as they spasmed in desperation, overloaded by the pleasure flow from her genitalia.

“Ahn… ahn~.... AHN…. AHHHHHHHHHHNNN~!!!” Sweetie’s choked moans grew and grew, until they were a scream.

She was cumming.

Hard.

A screaming crackle of green energy fountained from the tip of her horn — the cascade of magical showers from a particularly potent unicorn culmination known colloquially as ‘the sparkles’. Her green eyes morphed in their sockets, turning into heart-shaped irises as her conscious mind fully melted away into bliss, relinquishing control to the sapphic pleasure flooding every neural path.

Her fillyhood winked.

Again and again.

Each time spilling thick, messy splatters of steaming-hot filly cum into her father’s lap. Leaving hot puddles of juice to pool where flesh met flesh. Her back arched, in and out, convex and concave, in time with each wracking spasm as her pussy milked the absent stallionhood it desperately wished to be filled with.

“Quick! Forward, Sweetie!” Rarity’s magical light dimmed, relinquishing the vibrating clitoral spell to grasp her with telekinesis. It was no longer needed, Sweetie’s powerful orgasm continuing unabated.

With her sister’s gentle, guiding tug, Sweetie allowed herself to be led off the couch, taken just a few steps forward to the coffee table that sat in between all of the furniture. Her forelegs mounted up onto the table, her rear legs shakily planted on the cabin floor as she dismounted her father and took up a prime stance: legs wide, winking teenaged plot tilted up in the air, tail flagged high, and forebody braced.

A stance to be bred.

“Now, Father! While she’s peaking!” Rarity screeched.

Sweetie could barely pay attention, only hearing the clatter of hooves behind her as she focused instead on the falling drips of drool and sweat from her face to the glass top of the coffee table below. She had no mental space to do anything other than groan and thrust her hips up, to present her orgasming body to the world.

Begging for a suitor.

*KLUNK KLUNK*

Two heavy hooves fell on either side of her own, the unshorn fetlocks of a white-coated stud dimly familiar in her mind, and yet too hard to grasp firmly.

It didn’t matter, whoever it was, they were covering her. Mounting her.

Sweetie squealed and wriggled under him, instinct taking over and making her spread even wider, lift her bottom even higher: the fact that her stud’s chest barely touched her back meant he was big. Much bigger than her. Some ancient calculator deep in her hippocampus shifted her fertile teenaged hips and tilted them to the extreme, aligning for what would likely be a downward thrust.

A large downward thrust.

“Puh… PuhleeEAAAAAAAAAAAAHN~!” Sweetie’s whining, begging plea was cut off mid utterance.

…

Hondo had good aim and good dexterity.

It also helped that his stalliontip was also being guided to its steaming, winking-pink filly-teen snatch by his oldest daughter’s telekinetic field.

Sweetie felt a terrible, rending pinch. Her slender, tight little lips being spread so wide, so suddenly, asked to take something far beyond its normal capacity.

But Rarity’s plan worked.

Taken mid-feralorgasm, at its widest, most desperate wink. With her mind awash with pleasure-lust in chemical and magical form… Sweetie welcomed the pleasure-pain of her father’s huge, bulbous head straining… stretching… parting…

And penetrating into the tight, pink confines of her teenage-snatch, the first three inches of his massive cock being wrapped tighter than a latex hoof-glove on a surgeon by his youngest’s pulsing pussy-flesh.

Rarity’s smile was wide, the moans of her sister and father music to her ears.

“Just as planned.”

Into the Storm

View Online

Full.

Overfull.

Stretched.

“Ahnnnnnn~!”

Sweetie’s whole awareness was zeroed in on her stuffed, teenaged fillyhood. Everything else in the room had faded behind a dim curtain, as her senses were inundated with the straining stretch of her beloved Dad’s hoof-sized cockhead inside her once-virginal pussy.

She could feel every fold, every muscle in her opening wrapping around her father’s fat knob, molding to his very shape, sucking every exposed inch of her tight, twisting interior walls against his mottled-pink intruder.

”Uh-Uhnn…!”

The presence of his girthy bell-end in the first inch of her winking pussy had bulged out everything down there. With the massive intruder so close to the surface of her plotside, a noticeable bump in the lips pressed out from inside: the rigid glans of her father making it seem like something was alive and trying to escape her.

Her poor, plump exterior labia had been completely stretched… rolled out to their utmost, squished open against her flank-cheeks. The tight, bright pink interior lips were as well.

Sweetie knew she was slender down there — she’d never really liked inserting anything during her… ‘private time’. Even Rarity’s most ‘portable’ toys felt uncomfortably straining when she’d experimented with them, never going deeper than a half hoof length.

And now… to admit this… this monster of a stallionhood. Her father’s monster.

Sweetie groaned, unsure how her tight lips hadn’t been injured by his sudden, penetrative thrust. Perhaps it was Rarity’s spell? Or maybe it was the fashionista’s immaculate timing?

Or maybe Sweetie was stretchier than she thought… maybe she was meant for this kind of cock. This kind of stud.

For her Dad.

“D-duh… Dad~!”

In any case, it felt incredible! How had she been so blind when she’d played with those toys? The feeling of being so completely stretched was exhilarating! Her lips had sucked back to the shaft underneath her father’s mushroomed glans, his thick upper shaft still more than enough to mash against her throbbing clitoris from the sheer girth of the stallionhood in her.

New feelings of satisfaction, of perfect, sexual accommodation for her stud throbbed in her heart. She was taking him into her, letting his body into hers… Even the dull pain of accepting so much raw size simply added fuel to the wondrous mix of screaming pleasuring thrumming for her lower body.

And then Hondo started to push.

“Oh! F-F...fuck!” Sweetie’s groan sounded just like the desperate moans of her sister earlier.

Hondo’s stallionhead was plowing into her. Not rough, but smooth and steady — an inevitable and unstoppable force that was slowly opening her, wrenching open new territory deep inside her vise-like fillyhood.

Sweetie’s eyes squeezed shut in focus, drawing a shuddering breath to steady herself. She was already surrounded by the hulking, sweating bulk of her father… mounted over the top of her, covering her easily on all sides, his belly just barely touching the top of her back. Now he was taking her insides too… his fat knob plumbing deeper and deeper into her, filling her up with him.

But there was a wonderful surrender in that… in melting into her Dad. Melting into his heavy, huffing breaths, his little sweating grunts, his rugged, musky scent… and his dominant, impressive size.

“H-hah… haa~!” More incoherant squeaks were drawn out of her, as the mottled pink part of Hondo’s shaft slipped in past the airt-tight clamp of her pussy against his cock. Nearly a third of him was inside her now, enough to put a belly-bulge just above her slender teats.

“Sh-shi… sh~!” A curse died on her lips as she felt a powerful wracking wink roll through her, making her back arch under Hondo, pushing her curved spine up to push against his dad-bod belly. The wink fired through her plot, making her fillyhood clench and release, weak milking spasms due to the overwhelming stuffing that they were enduring.

But she also poured a new splash of wet, steaming fillycum out. Her body’s primitive response to the sheer hulking size of the stud rutting her, an instinctive biological attempt to lubricate as much of the prodigious genetically-blessed breeding mate this estrus had managed to attract.

The spray of fluid rolled down, down, down the obsidian black shaft, dripping down off the stallion’s pulsing medial ring… only some of it rolling so far as to slide down his scrotum and fall in patters from his low-hanging sack to the floor below.

“Sweetieheart, baby.” Hondo grimaced, his rumble coming through his chest and into Sweetie’s back as much as it reached her flicking, desperate ears, “Ya gotta relax… y-you’re… so buckin’ tight!” He waggled his hips slightly, pausing his thrust.

The waggle made Sweetie’s eyes shoot open, the unexpected side-to-side movement touching all sorts of new nerves off deep inside her, as well as sending her lovebud bumping over a particularly fat vein that ran up the ventral side of her father’s stallionhood.

Everything she was experiencing in this moment was new, stunning, groundbreaking.

Her heart fluttered in time with her plot-muscles, the brief hiccup in her tension enough for Hondo to seize upon: with a well-timed shift of his powerful hips, he jammed a further three-inches of rapidly-thickening daddy-dick into his youngest’s steaming teenage snatch.

“GUH!” Sweetie gasped.

It felt like she’d been punched in the gut! The huge spear of red-hot, iron horsecock was deep inside her now. She could feel her body’s internals shifting, moving out of the way to make space for the thumping great volume of penis plowing into her. She could feel her diaphragm unable to suck as deep a gasp, almost like she was winded, the additional pressure against it from having half her father’s big fat dick inside her blocking her ability to breathe easily.

It was like her whole body. Her whole essence. Her whole self… was devoted to pleasing, to accepting this stallionhood. Her dad. Her stud.

And she loved it.

The filling feeling wasn’t just filling her biologically. Wasn’t just filling that aching, burning arousal in her loins. It was making her feel filled with the heart and soul of another pony, a virile male stallion. A rugged essence that scorched her own soul, filling her mind, body and soul in a perfect completion of male and female.

Under her shut eyelids, her eyes rolled back in pleasure. She’d never felt so good. All her anxieties, all her dreams, all her hopes and fears and stresses and everything. It all boiled away in the crucible of being rutted. She could see why Rarity and her mother loved this so much.

This was their purpose, as ponies… as mares.

To be completely, totally, bred by their beloved stallions.

By her father.

“Careful, Father! Not so rough, it’s her first time, remember.” Rarity’s scolding voice was close. “Gentle!”

“I am being gentle!” Hondo gruffed, through clenched teeth. “I just… I’ve only got halfway in, and holding my hips up like this is killing my lower back.”

“Halfway is plenty, Father.” Rarity snapped quickly. “I think I’ve spoiled you, you’ve forgotten just how much you wield. Remember our first time? Halfway would have killed me.”

“But when we-”

“Oh no, you will not be hilting Sweetie on her first time.” Rarity’s voice growled, before switching to a purr. “Leave that until later in the cruise, we have plenty of time. And if she can’t… well, you know I can.”

“F-fine… but my back.”

“Then stop covering her! Put your hooves on her back, diamond-dog style. You’ll be able to put less into her that way.”

“Muh… mah… moh…” Sweetie gasped out, finally catching her breath enough to weakly whisper, as her father’s heavy forehooves lifted out of her peripheral vision, leaving only small scuff-cracks filled with sweat from her father’s great size… before she felt that weight come to rest squarely on her back, two hooves perched on her shoulders, supporting half of her father’s weight.

“Hmm? What was that Sweetie?” Rarity asked.

“Muh… more!” Sweetie moaned out, finally able to form the word, as she pushed back weakly into the pole spearing her tender flesh, unable to do much with the mass of her father pinning her into the table — she had to keep her forearms locked to transfer the weight down.

“Oh my. You really do take after Mother,” Rarity giggled. “Well, Father, I’m sure you heard her. But no hilting.” Rarity warned again, “I have no intention of souring this cruise with a trip to the infirmary.”

“Don’t worry Sweetieheart, Dad’ll take care of ya’...” Hondo cooed, his left forehoof rubbing between her shoulder blades comfortingly, “I’ll be gentle, too.”

Sweetie felt that gentleness a moment later. As Hondo pushed forward again, this time with a slower, grinding slide, pushing another inch into her body. The slower insertion was like drinking a cool glass of water, slowly quenching an intense thirst… able to experience in exquisite detail the fattening shaft-size as she slid further and further down her father’s dark black fleshpole.

“GahN!” Sweetie choked out another moan as her clitoris thumped against the fat stopper-band of Hondo’s medial ring. Another mini-orgasmic quiver electrified her extremities, crackling nerve-energy from the jarring impact touching every tip of her limbs.

Two-thirds of that… big… hulking cock were inside her now.

Inside her!

More than a foot of her insides had been displaced by a stallion’s horsecock.

Her father’s horsecock.

That was basically behind her belly-button!

“That’s enough, Father.” Rarity sighed.

“N-NO!” Sweetie squeaked, surprising herself with how quickly and powerfully she’d objected, her feral and vociferous growl echoing up from the awakened depths of her primitive mind. “M-more!”

“I don’t…” Rarity began to reply, but Hondo was already pushing forward.

His filly had made a demand of him. His rutting partner, his broodmare had asked for more. His daughter.

It was like Sweetie could sense his thoughts through their animal, erotic connection. And she knew he wouldn’t let her down.

But her body was resisting him. The fat ring of erectile tissue that divided the upper two-thirds of Hondo’s impressive cock from the terrifyingly thick bottom base was jamming against the teen-filly’s tight, fully stretched outer lips.

A physical barrier, not one of desire, emotion, or love.

Sweetie’s entire fillyhood squirmed and spasmed under the sudden, intense increase of force. All of Hondo’s gentle pressure, of his restrained power was revealed as he began to truly push into his youngest daughter’s impossibly tight cunt.

“OHhhhhh~!” Sweetie’s eyes crossed goofily, as she braced against the table, creaking under her. She could feel her lips pulsing, throbbing under the immense pressure, unable to give any further. Her father’s medial ring was already touching either side of her pert, cream-white ass-cheeks: if he was going to pop in it would literally be spreading her very plot wide open.

A few moments of shearing, grunting pressure felt like an eternity. A rising crescendo-tone of wanton need that never spilled over to a climactic culmination. Anticipation without satisfaction.

“Fuck!” Hondo snarled, his first curse, “hold on, babe.”

“Father, no…” Rarity began.

But her admonition fell on deaf ears. Nothing would stop Hondo and Sweetie Belle now. The two had become one entity, a perfect union of paternal and erotic love… desire… and determination.

“N-nnuh!” Sweetie whimpered, feeling the pressure reverse for a brief moment. There was a flash of desperation, of disappointment at the retreat. Worry that perhaps Hondo had given up. But then her instinct screamed at her, blared a warning. It knew what was coming.

Brace yourself!

*Whump!*

Hondo reversed his pull-out after only a couple of inches, coming back in with double the force he had earlier. All of those powerful, sinewed muscle in his sides and legs that Sweetie had marvelled out throughout her childhood were now tensing and coiling, being brought to bear against her rump… through her Dad’s cock.

The medial ring still jammed against her pussylips, unable to overcome the impossible hurdle set in front of it. The impact drove all of Sweetie’s body mass forward, her forehooves scraping on the table with loud squeaks, but she managed to maintain her balance.

Barely.

The thudding impact hit her nervous system like a tsunami. A rising wave of sensation that crashed up through her nethers, spilling all the way up her spine and into her mind, an exciting drum-thud of new pleasure.

And he was already withdrawing again for a second thrust…

*Whump!*

The second thrust was even heavier, with more of a back-swing and coming in with more speed.

“Ahn!”

The little exhortation was unblockable, as if the impact had forced the sound itself out of her lungs.

Again, the heavy stallionhood speared into her. Again, she felt the tremendous, wet impact of the medial ring against her clitoris, her lips, her flank.

Again, they were unable to achieve the penetration they so desired.

The head deep inside her was straining, pulsing, throbbing against the deepest part of her inside. It was as if every part of her dad, of her dad’s cock was stretching to its utmost… doing everything it could to penetrate just a little bit further.

To no avail.

Another withdrawal, pulling back far, far… far this time.

Inch after inch pulling back out of her, leaving a cavernous vacuum in its wake.

“Unnnh~!”

Sweetie felt her insides grasping, pulling at her father as he withdrew, not wanting to let him go. The sheer vacuum of the vise-tight teenage snatch being emptied caused her outer lips to grip his departing shaft, stretching outward like a pink glove, trying to hold on just one moment longer.

*WHUMP!*

There was no way for Sweetie to brace for the impact of this thrust. In slow motion, she felt what felt a million things at once.

The heavy, crashing impact of stallionflesh against her plotside.

The spearing, plowing, re-opening of her love-tunnel by her Dad’s hoof-sized cockhead.

The ripple of flesh roiling up her body…

The terrifying, gut-clenching feeling of her forehooves slipping out from under her. Of her balance shifting.

Of falling.

The heavy, breath-winding thunk of her chest against the coffee table as she fell, face-down
plot-up, suspended by the sheer support of her father’s sturdy penis.

“Careful!” Rarity yelped. But the pair were beyond hearing such warnings.

“Oh~!” Sweetie groaned. She felt her father’s forehooves plant themselves on the small of her shoulder blades, pinning her to the table, pressing her head against the relatively cool surface, already fogging up from the sheer sweaty-heat of the unicorn teen’s brow.

She was totally at his mercy. Pinned under him. Completely mounted.

And she wasn’t afraid, or anxious. She was delighted.

Her mind reveled, pleasure neurons and neurochemicals firing like poprocks in soda as she totally submitted, giving up everything to her feral, virile stud.

“Dad! Goddesses, YES!”

He was going to rut her. Jackhammer into her.

There was a quiet moment, a frozen blip of time and space, where Hondo’s hips seemed to almost pause, like a strong blacksmith’s hammer held above the anvil, about to strike with full, precise force.

Sweetie’s heart was thudding in her chest, her ears ringing with the increased blood pressure, adrenaline surging through every vein. It was a mixture of pure, wild fear of the sheer might of a stallion in full rut… mixed with the intense, burning desire of wanting it.

Wanting it so bad.

Oh, Goddesses! Oh, Luna, Celestia, and all the ancients! Please!

The last vestige of Sweetie Belle’s consciousness groaned out an internal prayer, begging for the hammer to fall.

And fall it did.

*Ka-THUMP!*

“OoOMPH!” Sweetie almost choked out a groan, her face smashed into the sturdy wood of the coffee table with the heavy, pounding thrust that fell, assisted by gravity, directed from Hondo’s surging muscular body, through his rigid, sturdy, gargantuan cock… into her tender teen pussy.

The bulge in her stomach pushed outward, noticeably bowing out a hoof-sized spot above her belly button, almost pressing out to touch the coffee table through Sweetie’s tummy.

And yet Hondo still couldn’t jam his medial ring into her. It still jammed heavily against her clitoris, mashing it back into its hooded hiding place despite her lovebud’s rigid, throbbingly erect state.

A half-moment after that terrific impact, Sweetie felt something new: the massive slap of Hondo’s swollen, black, ostrich-eggs swinging down to strike her teats — the new angle of attack bringing their pendulum-swing follow through on-target, momentum causing them to fall like two wrecking-balls.

*Plap!*

The familiar flesh-slap impact sound filled the room, as the filly-juice-slick balls struck her with a wet thwap that send a drizzle of fluid splattering through the air.

The surge of pure pleasure hit her at the same instant. The rush of feeling as she was assaulted by the pure wave of being so violently filled. Taken. Claimed.

The rough way he drove into her, like she was his entirely, body and soul… the way his huge cock stretched her teenaged insides so suddenly, so totally… the way he mashed her clitoris against that damn ring of his… a cacophony of pleasure hormones was blasted into her brain as the rush of pure sensation hit like a freight train.

And the train was coming back down the tracks.

“Uhnn…~!” Still trying feebly to groan, mind struggling and failing to work under the stunning assault, as her father began to withdraw from her, ungently.

His steaming stallionhood dredged out of her body, feeling almost like it would pull her insides out with her, sucking her whole body up as he pulled out, only barely slipping as gravity finally overtook the terrific suction of pussy to cock.

The obscene sounds of squelching filly-snatch slipping off of pulsating, moist stallionflesh filled the air…

And then Hondo thrust again.

Harder.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

The full downward jackhammer landed like a champion heavyweight’s uppercut. Knocking all the breath out of Sweetie and slamming her body back onto the coffee table from the sheer force of the cock-blow.

The balls struck again, tenderizing her teat-nipples.

“D-duh...d-ah…!” Sweetie was a complete mess. One half of her mane looked like a colony of birds had chosen it as a nesting-site, the other half was plastered to her face with sweat — like she had just climbed out of the swimming pool.

Her tail lashed back and forth, strands heavy with sweat and filly-honey and stallion-musk mopping across her stallion’s belly, wagging and flagging with abandon.

Her muscles quivered and spasmed in the throes of the dominating form of feral sex her stud was performing on her.

All she could do was choke out the single syllable, her eyes rolling and crossing.

But Hondo was already pulling back again. His rhythm quickly hastening.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“DAH…!”

Sweetie’s mouth squeaked open, her steaming tongue immediately using the opportunity to escape, unfurling and rolling out like a panting dog, limp from exhaustion and pleasure-overload, leaking a puddle of drool onto the table.

Still, the ring persisted, not wanting to just pop into her… grinding now against both her teen-clit and the edge of her tailhole… pushing as deep as her vise-like plot would allow without actually breaching into her incredibly tight, clenching, velvet-magma interior.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“Da-!”

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

The thrusts were coming fast and fierce now — sometimes timed so that Sweetie wasn’t able to even catch her breath between the monstrous piledriver slams of her Dad’s beast of a log.

Her Dad was withdrawing all the way to his mottled-tip now. Only pausing just as the thick hoof-sized flare-edge approached her strained and stretched pussy-entrance before brutally reversing and plowing his daughter.

Rutting the Tartarus out of her tight plot.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“F-father!” Rarity squeaked, sounding nervous for the first time.

Not that it mattered: she could have fired a flare gun off without either of the two lovers even noticing — both Sweetie and Hondo were feral, unstoppable, primitive. Like two horses on the ancient plains, rutting under the sun and moon, without the distractions of modern life… only the burning desire to procreate.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“FUCK! Baby!” Hondo gasped, his near breathlessness showing the exertion required to maintain such an aggressive rhythm with such power-strokes. “FUCK!”

*Wa-SLAP!*

“FATHER!” Rarity shouted, in response to Hondo having raised his left hoof and bringing it down with cracking speed against the side of Sweetie’s asscheek.

The resounding ass-slap landed square on her cutie-mark. A sharp sting of pleasure-pain that was so pathetically insignificant compared to the unending stream of sensation screaming out of her nethers.

“D-uh… DAHHHH…! DADDY!” Sweetie finally managed to squeak out, the call to her beloved, heavy-cocked father only coaxed out thanks to the hoof-slap.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“Daddy~!”

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“DADDY!”

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

*CRAAAAAAACK~!*

With a creaking groan that quickly screeched up in volume, crescendoing with a final bang, the centre of the coffee table cracked.

The heavy oak legs rent one by one, destroyed by the sheer power of Hondo’s piledriver rutting.

“There goes the damage deposit!” Rarity groaned.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

Hondo and Sweetie didn’t even care — content to continue, without even pausing in their rhythm. The big stallion was now directly over his little girl’s monument of a backside, pounding her into the very floor.

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

“Enough!” Rarity shrieked, her horn snapping to crackling blue life, “You’ll put a hole in the ship if I don’t do something!”

*KA-THUMP!*

*Plap!*

Sweetie’s eyes were locked tight in the blissful agony of mind-melting pleasure. She didn’t see the blue field wrap around the slick, tight, sloppy union of fillyhood and stallionmeat. But she felt it.

That charged, blue, buzzing field slipped back into the hood of her clitoris, humming along all the sensitive flesh that went deep inside her.

It slid along the vacuum seal of her inner-lips pulling them outward and giving them a magical kick.

It gripped the heavy black stallion-shaft around the obstinate medial-ring, compressing with full magical force.

And then Rarity fired. A screaming burst of her deepest magical reserves.

*ZAP!*

White.

Pure, blinding whiteness.

Sweetie was sure her eyes were open. They might be rolling and cross-eyed, her irises distorted into heart-shapes of differing sizes, but she should be seeing something.

But it was just sheer, white…

The screaming, mind-blanking pleasure of her orgasm.

“DA… Daa…. DAAADDDEEeeeeEEEEee!”

Her hearing came back first — her Scream so loud and piercing it rattled the thick exterior window panes.

Then her sense of smell — the pungent stink of their heavy love-making…

Then her vision — a blurry mess of sparkling green light and little flickering flames. Her magic, shooting from the end of her horn. It was so charged with pent-up sexual power it was starting little fires where the green sparkler-trails landed, like windswept embers from an Everfree forest fire.

Then her sense of touch — And that’s where Sweetie broke.

Her father was in her.

Deep in her.

The ring had finally, impossibly passed into her body — his huge, hulking cock had slammed a further four inches into her, stretching her tight filly-snatch even further… and plowing that hoof-sized head up into her gut, knocking against the entrance to her very core, her womb…

And sliding in.

She hadn’t felt him enter, she’d been whited out for that… but he was in her now. In the space that was the very center of her feminine being: her uterus… he’d penetrated her cervix!

It was like Hondo’s soul was inside hers.

She never felt so… so… full. Physically and emotionally. Spiritually.

Complete.

She was melting. Her mind, body and soul. Dissolving in the pure wash of perfect orgasmic pleasure, her very core becoming Hondo. Becoming her stud.

“Sweetie BELLE!!!” Hondo’s ferocious growl came from above her…

It shattered the brief, eternal moment of orgasmic revelry Sweetie had… snapping her focus back to the present. Just in time to feel the tremendous flare of the stallionhead inside her.

That hoof-sized monster blossomed. Spreading out with a heavy throb of blood to the size of a saucer plate. The fat pink growing to an obscenely wide, knobby-edged mushroom… digging into the supple virgin flesh of Sweetie’s womb, firmly ensconcing itself and bracing to fire.

Sweetie felt the tremendous weight of the biological machinery clicking into its final, planned places. The complete wash of pleasure from her orgasm… the lashing, wrapping flag of her tail… her reactionary, writhing backward thrusts... the powerful milking clenches of her convulsing, climaxing teenage love- tunnel…

All to get her stud to release.

Her dad.

And he did.

“GRAaaaaGH!”

A great, steaming gout of boiling stallion-batter splorched into Sweetie’s womb. Hondo’s first blast was enough to fill a pint-glass, lasting seconds as it shot in a heavy, unending rope of fertile seed from the milkshake-straw-wide swollen urethra.

This was nothing like the weak, thin dribbles she’d giggled at when she’d given Button that secretive hoofjob behind the gym… a cute little ‘spill’ that had left some little raindrops of colt-batter on the ground.

This was a stud’s ejaculation.

It was like a firehose connection had burst, sending reams of boiling white-water. Her beloved Dad’s sheer, extreme masculine potency made Button’s little spurt seem feminine by comparison.

And her belly was filling.

It was like she was chugging a hot cocoa — her tummy filling with rich, warm, sugar-sweet goodness.

Except it wasn’t just warm. It was hot.

And it wasn’t filling her belly. It was filling her womb.

And instead of just one mug… it was a whole barrel of hot, creamy thickness. Pouring in with spurt after spurt after spurt.

More and more and MORE. The heavy dollops of filling poured into her, cramming her once-tiny core full of her father’s hot spunk.

“GRaaaRGH!”

Sweetie felt a hot nip on the back of her neck, as her stud bit into her in the throes of passion, instinctively doing all he could to anchor himself to the bucking, writhing, milking filly he was filling.

He’d been well-trained by Sweetie’s older sister. Like a true, seasoned alpha-stud, he continued to pump his hips even as his second spurt overtook the first, bulging out of the end of his spurting cocktip like an over-taxed garden hose, packing her full of surging, frothing, virile sperm.

“Dahhhdd… dahhhdeee…” Sweetie’s desperate moans grew hoarse and weak, her system crashing as if the stallion’s love-nip came from venomous fangs. Muscles giving up as they were overwhelmed with metabolic exhaustion, crashing into oblivion and making her nothing more than a steaming, sweating puddle of filly amidst the ruins of a coffee table, being injected by a pumping cock.

Three spurts.

Four.

Sweetie’s thirsty womb-flesh sucked up the potent testosterone-heavy brew like a sponge. The long-awaited arrival of genetic material was the perfect panacea to the burning ache of desire the filly had gone through in so many previous heat-cycles, and for so long during this frenzied rutting… now finally after all these years fulfilled in such a complete way.

Seven.

Eight.

Some part of Sweetie’s biological-calculator was counting the heavy dollop-loads that her Dad was pumping into her, despite being fully satisfied that it had made the correct choice in selection of a very virile mate for breeding.

Her consciousness was starting to wink out now too. Her neurons brought to physical limits of capacity with over-taxed firings, her thaumic system entirely drained of the essential mana… starved entirely by the sheer rutting.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Sweetie felt her belly pushing into the floor, swollen as if she were heavy with foal, her father’s seemingly unending pulses of heavy batter stuffing her body so entirely that her cute, cream-colored bellybutton popped from an innie to an outie, pushed up by the sheer volume of tight-packed stallion-cum in her womb.

Her last thoughts as she passed out were of birth protection — she’d not even had a moment to consider it with how quickly everything had escalated. There was a little flicker of terror there, as her languid hoof rubbed her swollen, gravid belly… easily able to imagine this becoming its actual state… to imagine herself pregnant with a foal by her father.

A flicker that snuffed out, washed away by the heady, intoxicated love-orgasm roiling through her, sending her into blissful oblivion from sheer exhaustion.

She’d happily bear his foal…

And then Sweetie passed out.

Darkness.

A Naughtycal Cruise

by Clopficsinthecomments

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Setting the Sails...

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