> Inflated by Filth
>  by AmethystMare
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inflated by Filth
Part One
 
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
 
A sequel to Dirty Inflation…


Arctic stood in the throne room of Canterlot Castle, the magic of the two alicorn sisters winding around him. Moment by moment, his body was no longer his own, though the pegasus pony still had his wings, his tail and more – all the parts of him that he was so used to. Even the cutie mark, which was often covered up by something that his mistress deemed appropriate wear for him, stayed the same, though his body did not.

He whimpered, his light coat moving over flesh and bone, though there was no pain, only a sense of weightlessness as Princess Celestia’s magic bound with Luna’s, helping him to stand upright, on two legs, his spine re-aligning itself. Parts were the same but, being changed from a four-legged stance to a comfortable, anthropomorphic body was not something that the pet-pony ever thought that he would get used to.

“Stretch out your wings, Arctic, you know it helps settle the transformation.”

He tried to think of the grandeur, the splendour, of the throne room, to admire the stained-glass windows so that he did not have to think about anything else, even though his heart beat harder and faster. For he could not forget just why it was that he was being set on two hooves instead of four, his forehooves moulding seamlessly into more pliable, dextrous hands, fingers aching oddly. He flexed them, sucking in a breath, his chest lightly muscled, though his sheath and balls were even more obvious in such a position.

Of course, they used their magic a little more to play with him, caressing him, stroking the plump fullness of his sheath as his balls hung down, trembling with the tiniest shifts of weight in his body. His massive prick could not help but slowly, so slowly, slip out, filling his sheath and swelling forth, hardening in a thick length of stallion flesh that, oddly enough, was not all that often used for the virility he possessed. His mistress preferred to turn that against him in most cases, reverse-milking him so that his balls backed up, his body producing more and more seed with nowhere for it to go, or if she took his cum from him, it came without the usual dose of pleasure from him.

Such was the will and the life of being a pony pet. And it was a place that Arctic was only too happy to be, submitting to his mistress and doing all that the others around her willed to. He was there to be hired out and he was the only one who could be entrusted to satisfy the evil desires of the other halves of the princesses, their darker halves with such sordid desires that, so often, they could not be spoken aloud. 

They preferred him that way, apparently so, using hands themselves to manipulate and use him, though their magic, to be fair, could have more than easily done the trick too. But that was not for the submissive pegasus to worry about, not when his life and his day was well and truly out of both his hands and his hooves, Princess Luna leading the way down the steps that had appeared beside the throne to the dungeons. Those, of course, were kept locked by magic at all other times. Somepony might have considered Arctic privileged to be able to see such a part of Canterlot and the castle, but the stallion wasn’t sure about that.

“Thank you, Arctic, for being willing to do this once more. As you will see, their desires have…grown.”

He gulped, but Celestia was behind him. They may have been sympathetic to his cause and the reason he was there to please the nightmares of night and day, but there was no real option for him to back out either.

“It keeps them in check,” Celestia added, a deeper note to her voice. “Our magic holds them, but it grows tiring to push them back if they are antsy. And that’s putting it mildly.”

He lowered his head as much as he was comfortable doing while still descending the steps.

“Anything I can do to serve, I will.”

For that was his cause and place in the pony world as their pony pet, owned by Mistress Shy and doing her bidding under due orders at all times. The cell, however, that he was led to, was not quite the same as what he had been used to, the cavern larger and more open, though it had looked more like an expansive, somewhat homely, prison cell before. The bookcases and amenities, for their use, were still there, of course, but it was all one big open space, the roof rising into the stalagmites high above. They glowed with the lingering, resilient magic of the castle and the princesses, but he did not think of that, trembling on two hooves, his cock hard and wanton. For the evil alicorns were there before him and there was no turning back to the comfort and safety of Mistress Shy anymore.

“Well, well, well… Look who has come to visit us, dear sister.”

Arctic could not be sure who Nightmare Moon was speaking to, whether Daybreaker as her “sister” or Princess Luna, though Luna took half a step back, her muzzle wrinkling in distaste. Even after her time on the moon, however, she was too proper and composed to rise to the bait. The entry to the cell was about the height of the grand doors into the throne room, metal bars blocking the way, though a magical signature was required to unlock it as Luna, cautiously, did so.

The door clicked open and he took a deep breath. He could have squealed and run and said that he didn’t want to do it anymore, but, truly, he would have been lying, in some way. His cock throbbed and bounced under the weight of his arousal, pulsing and drooling, for he was not wearing any gear at all, nude from head to hoof, everything that he had on show and available to the nightmares of day and night before him. Daybreaker, with her flaming, dancing mane, licked her lips, the two alicorns already in anthro form, leaving only Celestia and Luna in their more conventional four-legged shapes as the princesses of Equestria.

“Come in, come in,” she drawled, though the flash in her dark eyes begged ill-will. “I’m sure we can, ah…be suitably entertaining for a slut like you, Arctic.”

It was one of the only times that she had ever said his name and the stallion caught his breath, a band tightening around his chest. It was wrong but it was right, coming from her, in that particular tone, a voice that made him want to drop to his knees and worship her, service her, do anything dirty, decrepit thing that either of the evil alicorns would have ever wanted him to do.

Quietly, knowing when their presence was no longer needed, Celestia and Luna retreated, locking Arctic within their expansive cell. It was not much of a cell anymore, to be honest, but he supposed, through a delirious throb of anticipation, that that was the price for housing two of the most wicked beings in all Equestria. And it was him that would satisfy them, soothe their lusts so that, at least for a little while longer, they would be “happy” with being restrained and not turn their attention to more devious means.

That was, after all, what everyone hoped. But maybe the alicorns already had all the power they craved tucked away down in that dungeon, the caves offering them everything without even having to go after it for themselves.

“Look at the slut stallion, he’s already hard. And you don’t even know what we’re going to do to you yet.”

Daybreaker walked around him in a slow circle, taking the stallion in from all angles, although both were still bigger than him in their anthro forms. Arctic was large, even for a stallion, in more ways than one, his cock throbbing, standing out straight before him even if it could not help but pull down lightly under its weight. No matter of blood in the world filling his dick with passion could keep him rigid under such condition, cock drooling thick dollops of pre-cum, a stallion-like whicker on his lips.

“Ohhh, he is randy…” Nightmare Moon licked her lips, showing her fangs as the starry nebula of her mane danced back and forth, catching the eye. “But I can take care of that.”

No more were Princess Celestia and Luna there to protect him, not that they would have done anything anyway. For Arctic knew well and truly what he was getting into as Nightmare Moon lunged for him. A flicker of darkness enveloped her and her power swept through, not even needing her magic as her wings flared, lancing through the air in the blink of an eye. He squealed but didn’t even have a chance to take a step back before his hooves too left the ground.

Airborne, strangely so. Yet the feeling of weightlessness only lasted for a minute as he was turned upside-down, the cell jolting around him, made to know, in no uncertain circumstance, that he was there to please and only to please. The nightmare queen, however, was more powerful still and even a hyperphallic length such as his posed no true trouble to her as she sucked his cock-tip into her mouth.

“Mmmph…”

It took Arctic a moment to realise quite what position he was in, his legs pushing…what was it, over her shoulders? He was upside-down, facing away from her crotch, though he wondered, vaguely how it would have been if he had faced her, his nose pushed into her crotch. Of course, she was too large for him to line up in that manner, which was a shame, even if his heart pounded fiercely. His balls rested on her chest as she kneaded and squeezed them, taking delight in the susceptibility of his body to arousal, cock throbbing despite his predicament, so much cum contained within his foal-makers. Her size worked against him even as she dragged him in against her, cock disappearing inch after gloriously fat and heady inch straight down her throat as it bulged around his size.

“Ohhhh…”

Arctic moaned out loud, as much as his head spun, wings flapping helplessly, though they did not feel large enough in an anthro form to take flight and lift his body from the ground. It was difficult, so very much so, as he grunted and gasped, but pleasure had to come one way or another as Nightmare Moon dug her fingers deliriously into his fat nuts as they spilt down. Upside-down, they bounced on top of her head as she deepthroated his dick, though he could only be glad that they parted to either side of her horn, the heft and weight of them rendering them churning.

Yet there was another alicorn there to take him and he felt the heat of her flames before he knew she was so close to him, dragged back from Nightmare Moon’s crotch and lower abdomen, even though his tongue was already out as if he sought to please her. The alicorn’s arms tightened around his hips, arms hooked around his legs to leave her hands free to grope and squeeze his nuts with too much force, but Daybreaker demanded more. She squatted a little to bring herself to a better height, snarling and grumbling under her breath about Nightmare Moon putting him in an awkward position, though all it took was dragging his head back to an admittedly uncomfortable angle to cram his head between her thighs.

“Get to work, slave!”

That was all they saw him as, all he would ever be to them. Daybreaker settled for lying back on the ground, her shoulders and upper back pressed into the ground and her legs raised, though she did not need to contract her abs to keep her legs off the floor. Oh no, it was much easier for the alicorn to use Arctic’s body as leverage, looping her thick thighs and strong calves around his shoulders and upper body, a hoof digging in here and there – but who really cared about something like that? It meant that she had to push her buttocks up towards him, but his muzzle was far more easily accessible to her like that, Nightmare Moon grudgingly acquiescing and lowering him, just a little, so that the two of them could be pleased at once.

All he knew, all that he had to know, was the sweetness of Daybreaker’s pussy as he dug his tongue fervently into it. Pleasing a mare in such a way was a form of worship, especially to him, something that had his head spinning and swimming, taking him away to a deeper, more passionate state of being. It was sub-space, something that Mistress Shy had taught him about, but he could go into that deeply submissive, subservient state of mind in many ways, his lust rising, curling deep in the pits of his guts.

His balls ached and he did, at that time, experience true pleasure as it swept through him, ecstasy bringing a shrieking whinny to his fluttering nostrils, as muted as his cry was by Daybreaker’s thick thighs. She closed them more fervently around his head, forcing his tongue into place over her clit, even as she gushed and practically painted his muzzle in her juices. Such a flow would not be stopped as he strained and moaned, trying to gulp down every drop, though only a small amount slipped teasingly down his throat as it worked and worked.

“Unff… You’re just like you were before, slave.”

Whether that was a compliment or an insult did not matter to Arctic, not considering all that he could do for them, the devious nature of their inclinations. He didn’t want to be in control, not one bit, not even as Daybreaker released her bladder while his muzzle was still shoved between her thighs. There was nothing clean and fresh or delicate about either of the alicorns, their carnal passion demanding satisfaction at the cost of all else.

One load. As piss splattered and coated his muzzle, he grunted through it all, his nuts churning, spending a load of seed down Nightmare moon’s throat. Barely an inch or two of his dick remained outside her muzzle as she swallowed down everything he had to give, pouring straight down into her grumbling stomach, though there was still plenty more where that came from. It was not enough for her, never enough, though Arctic was too caught up in pounding, mind-numbing ecstasy to wonder just why she was so intent on draining his balls, why his creamy load of stallion cum was what she had gone for first.

But that would come to be known later as Daybreaker ground on his snout, marking him messily with her juices. Her arousal squirting, painting him once again in her essence, yet he parted his lips willingly to take it all, his tongue pushing out over his bottom lip as if he needed to signal his readiness and willingness in some way.

She pressed him deeper, his nose almost seeming to disappear into her folds, her scent enveloping him. There was nothing else left in Arctic’s world, right then and there, but what the alicorns laid forth for him, his moans rising, muted, muffled, and still there. The acrid aroma of piss was a welcome companion in such circumstances as what had had to be the third load of seed shot from his nuts, which were only slightly smaller from having been milked in such quick succession. He was sensitive, too sensitive, and yet there was no escape from sensations crowding in from all sides, assaulting all his senses.

The taste of her cream mixing with piss, a delectable concoction that had him flushing even as he slurped it all up, reeking of them. The aroma clung to him, marking his muzzle, his coat, though there would be nothing more that he would more proudly wear, if given the choice. The feel of being sandwiched between their thickly muscled, dominant bodies, layered over with a feminine nuance of softness that did not hide their power in the slightest. Yes, that was how he liked it, his vision filled with the white of Daybreaker’s legs and marehood, the winking folds tugging against his tongue as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm.

Finally, their moans filling the air, claiming him, dominating him, sent him spiralling deeper into blithering subservience than ever before – or, at least, that was how it felt every time to him. He was their slave, their pet, yet another load of cum pouring forth, the milking ripples of Nightmare Moon’s throat pulsing around him.

There was no denying him as he gave over everything that he was to the alicorns and more.

Daybreaker, however, had a more devious nuance in store for him as Nightmare Moon set herself about draining his balls. Oh, that manner of water sports had been light, a little touch and a taste of the dirtiness that was to come for him, though she did break for a moment to release her bladder again. The slave pony moaned out loud as a hot stream of urine soaked his mane, streaming between his eyes and through his forelock, dirtying his coat in a yellow gleam that would soak in and set him up for all else that he was to do. He drank some, the little whore, though not even Daybreaker considered him to be in his right mind as he strained to press his muzzle to her cunt, letting her piss flow straight down his throat.

“Whore…”

He heard the word, but that was all he wanted to be, even as his head spun. He didn’t know what had happened, not at first, but a dirty smog of her gases rolled forth. Her tail hole puckered and trembled as she let it loose, the sound cutting through the air, blasting him and dousing the slave in rancid essence. He gasped, eyes streaming, but he had to keep pleasing her, another load of cum leaving his nuts, revulsion making him squirm, yet the weakness that swept over him gave light to something else.

Submissiveness… Well, it ran deeper than pleasing mares orally. It ran deeper than staying in bondage for hours, solely to make his mistress happy. And that was just why Arctic was a pony pet, a slave to those that considered him such, a pissy pony, a toilet slut, everything and anything that others wanted to consider him and more. She broke wind again, stealing oxygen from him, the deep musk of the alicorn working its way all too easily into his fur, his mane, clinging to him like a second skin.

“Take it all, you fucking slave pony.”

Nightmare Moon grunted her agreement, though her arms trembled around him, hardly able to hold him for too much longer, even as Daybreaker alternated between dousing him in the smoggy air from her backside, the reek cloying and clawing at his respiratory system, and pissing. It was more difficult to do both things at once with the devious accuracy that she wanted, head thrown back in passion against the ground, tongue hanging out with a wicked grin stretching her lips.

“Yesss…”

Yet the evil alicorn of darkness could not hold him up for much longer without pulling on her magic and, well, she had far better use for that. Arctic hung from her, his legs over her shoulders, like a dead weight as he struggled and gasped, fighting for air that was no longer fresh in the manner that he wanted to claim it. He wheezed as Nightmare Moon dropped him, though they had no concern over his safety or comfort in the way that he might have wanted them to think, all legs and arms sprawled while Daybreaker shoved him off her with a glowing burst of golden magic.

“Being more careful would not hurt, dear.”

She hissed, tongue flickering out, treating Arctic to a touch of her anger, the alicorns facing off against one another. Yet there was, most thankfully, the lure of a stallion cock for them to take, his dick standing up firm and hard, though Nightmare Moon was slower than Daybreaker to claim it, regardless of how sloppy her inner thighs were with her juices. Daybreaker smirked as she impaled herself on that dick, Nightmare Moon’s bloated stomach revealing just how much of Arctic’s cum she had taken down her throat, though she still licked off her lips as if there was a drop more for her to savour.

“Oh, yesss…”

Daybreaker rode him as if he was nothing more than a living sex toy, Nightmare Moon squatting over his face. Arctic squealed breathlessly, though was still too dizzy and faint, the cell feeling as if it was tipping and jolting around him, off-balance and lying there helpless. He couldn’t even get his hands up around Nightmare Moon’s hips and arse to please her more, to rub and caress and worship her in the way that he knew that she adored.

His dick ached, but he didn’t have to think about that, some of his nuts drained but still more loads to cum, his body working overtime to replace what had been lost. Arctic was not such a fool to think that milking him dry, in a pleasurable way, was what they wanted over and over again, however, too canny for that, as much as his gut ached to know what was planned for him. The flaming princess riding his cock threw her head back and moaned out her lust again and again for him, slamming down, resting on her hooves so that she could squat and gain the best leverage to ride his cock. It bulged up into her lower abdomen as she slammed down, yet he was thick enough to please her despite the differences in their heights, the alicorns so much larger than him even then.

He gasped, shocked back to Nightmare Moon as she could not merely content herself with slathering his tongue in her honey, the tartly sweet essence that flowed so freely from her pussy that it was as if there could be no end to it. Again and again, she humped down against his face, taking her orgasm at the same time as squirting her piss in his face, hosing him down, letting the thick stream paint him yellow. Her orgasmic fluids were nowhere near enough to make the piss pony anything other than what he was, a slut and a slave that revelled in the dirtiest of play, the acrid stench of urine clinging to his coat, seeping into his mane. No part of his head and neck remained dry and she laughed mockingly as she crushed her marehood to his lips, forcing him down and pinning him in place so that he had no choice.

No choice but to gulp down her piss, taking it down his throat. He gulped and swallowed so that he would not choke on it, yet Arctic did not even have the energy in him to tell himself that it was to please them, to serve them, that he did not truly enjoy it. It was vile in a way that made him, instinctively, want to squirm away from the sordid nature of it all, and yet he did not, his hands finding her thighs, straining to hold the too powerful alicorn down on him while her piss filled his belly.

“All of it, piss pony… Waste a fucking drop and there’ll be Tartarus and all the monsters down there to pay for it.”

He didn’t know what that meant and neither did he want to, eyes closed, losing himself in the moment. It was better, in a way, to slip away, to forget, Nightmare Moon pissing down his throat, his throat burning with the reek of it, how cloying and thick her urine felt when it was so hot, taken straight from the source. Daybreaker was no better, riding his cock fervently, her mane whipping back and forth, her belly bloated from one load that he had not truly felt in his debasement.

The slave pony’s nuts ached, he couldn’t give anymore… Yet he was forced to. It did not matter to them that every orgasm pained him, that he wanted a different kind of release, only that he was there to please them in every way that they wanted him to. Daybreaker’s belly swelled heavily as if she was pregnant, though he was not present for all of it, blinking as the scene changed before his eyes. One moment he was gulping down piss, his stomach heaving and roiling with the sheer volume in his belly, and the next he was sucking on the fat nub of Nightmare Moon’s clit, bringing her off again and again as if that had been what he’d done the whole time.

Time had no meaning down in the dungeon as they howled, riding him with feral cries that he would never have heard from Mistress Shy. They were raw and, in a way, regal, yet still not in the same way that Celestia and Luna were. There would always be a difference to the evil alicorns, a brokenness to them that came through in their willingness to explore debauchery to an extreme that no one else was. Between all four alicorns, good and evil, indeed, they led the way.

Daybreaker took six loads of cum into her womb, depleting Arctic’s natural production while Nightmare Moon panted before her, tits heaving, the huge mounds of them begging attention. With her womb massively inflated with cum, his cock crammed up as deep inside her as it could possibly go, her orgasm yet again painted his cock with her cream. Her delight slopped forth messily, marking his dick, his thighs, even her inner thighs too, the drooling mess of it something that would not be stopped even as she kept his seed inside her.

Still… It was too clean, too pristine, all in a way that oh so very much was not in keeping with what they had the slave pony there for. To be a slave to them, a piss pony slut, was all well and good but Nightmare Moon took her leave and liberty of him, pressing her tail hole to his lips and forcing it between. There was no denying her as he squirmed and weakly fought, arms falling out against the ground, a blast of rancid air flowing into his mouth. He choked on it, hacking and gagging, but he could do what he liked under her, as far as she was concerned, as he would get the full dose of it whether he wanted it or not.

A toilet slave, nothing more or less to them. Frankly, they could make him be whatever it was that they wanted, whatever they craved, grinding onto him, Daybreaker keeping his loads in her womb while she released her bladder too. Other than his head and neck, perhaps a little of his chest, he had not been duly marked, after all, and a hot and ready stream of piss gushing down around his crotch, staining his sheath, swilling around the base as gravity took it, was just what was needed. Between them, Arctic twitched weakly, feeling as if he was fighting with all his might, overcome with the strange sensation of having wet himself even as his cock and balls screamed for relief. 

But he was there and there was no escape as he moaned into Nightmare Moon’s backside, taking the reek of her stench down into his belly. He had to gulp it, though gulping air felt wrong, going down the wrong pipe, grunting and heaving, the strain in his stomach burning through with a sharp pain. The pain should have been grounding but it sent his mind spiralling even more, enveloped in the reek of her, piss coating his fur, soaking into his lower abdomen, the paleness of his coat there, once again, stained with stark, yellow piss.

“He loves it.”

“He’s such a slut.”

“And, oh, what we have in store for you…”



To be continued in part two…
> Part Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inflated by Filth
Part Two 
 
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
 
 
Continued from part one…
 
He tried to grab a gasp of clean air but there was so much of a thick smog around him that even breathing through his nostrils did not allow him any respite, not even then. It enveloped him in a dizzying haze, Daybreaker riding him and Nightmare Moon grinding down on his muzzle, her dock pressed over his nose so that there was no escape to be had. Her musk swamped him and he swore there was wetness over his neck too, the mare wasting no time where she could abuse him. 

Her marehood flexed and twitched as she squirted, piss mixing with her juices, though it was all so erotic to her that to hold back one but not the other would have been outside the realm of possibility for her. She needed it as much as he did and Arctic was merely there to serve every one of her filthy needs, blasting gas over him, the pucker of her anal ring rippling and twitching within his mouth, his stomach bloated and heaving. Her gas could only go one place and that was down his throat as he heaved for filthy breaths, eyes bulging, his belly strained and tight, though the piss sloshing about inside with a mix of mare juices was a little better, just a little. It was hard to think of any one thing as his head spun and spun, his cock throbbing as one last load, for the moment at least, was taken from him, Daybreaker moaning. Her head tipped back as she too released her bladder, yet the noxious fumes from under her tail were not as terrible when released in such a place. Still, she added to the thick, heaving smog, a cloud of it encasing him, wrapping around so that there was no escape, his eyes streaming, whimpering as the bloating strain in his stomach tightened and tightened.

“Now…”


He trembled, his whole body aching. More… Yes, there had to be more, though they did not use their magic straight away to show him what that was. They dragged him, a dead weight, exhausted and forced through everything, wanting to please, as tired as he was. The metal chair seemed to be designed for a pony like him, though the open expanse of the cavern begged the reasoning behind its placement there, shockingly small in the grand tenacity of it. He was strapped in, in his anthro form, his wrists locked to the arms and his fetlocks manacled to the legs. That there was nothing around his waist or hips, well… He didn’t want to think too much about that.

Daybreaker waddled with the weight of his cum in her womb, though she was not content with all that had passed, not yet. His head hung, belly bloated, the strain of holding so much gas inside him making his belly gurgle and churn, giving him the impression that even that was working its way through his intestines even then. Could he release it through his own tail-star? He wasn’t so sure how helpful that would be, not when there was that old scar in there still that would be disturbed, not ready for whatever it was that they surely had in mind with him.

“Toilet slave…”

He shuddered.

“We have a burden to rid ourselves of.”

Oh…

“And you are the vessel.”

They made a show of hauling in the machinery, tanks and pumps, hoses dangling, grunting and heaving as if everything took far more effort than it did. The alicorns, of course, were strong enough to do whatever they pleased down there without exerting themselves physically at all, but it was all a ploy to make him squirm, lips parted even as he panted. Arctic whimpered and shook his head and yet, still, did not say “no”, not out loud, not that he didn’t want it. For his purpose in life was to serve, regardless of the disgust he held in his heart for the filth of it all.

His cock, after all, told a very different story, standing up tall while they surrounded him, the blinking lights and whirring gears catching his attention, ears flicking back and forth. It was too much, too much all at once, his cock sore and needing respite, though he knew, of course, that that was not to come. He never got a rest when he needed it.

The machines hissed and ground and he shrank from them, the beeps most terrifying to him, erratic and startling as he nickered nervously. Yet Nightmare Moon turning her back to him, Daybreaker helpfully pointing his cock more horizontal for her, to grind back onto his length was something that he did not expect. There was a shot of pleasure to be taken alongside the strain as not her marehood but her twitching tail-star pushed back onto him, the alicorn grunting as her wings spread, feeling the thickness of him.

“Ooof… Yes, this is much better than a dull, lifeless toy…”

He moaned. Yes, he was a living toy. Maybe that was why he managed to interest them so, to catch their attention. Yet he could not sweep himself away from the throbbing pulses of pleasure, grinding onto him, the tightness of her hole increasing every time she clenched down, most likely only to hear him whimper. Toying with the toy had always been one of their favourite pastimes when it came to him.

It was…different. His eyes widened and he scraped in ragged breath after breath, the filth of the room still present, near enough toxic gas from their backsides reeking through it all. Her backside was not clean, far from it, clumps of excrement clinging to her passage, though he could not possibly consider it to be accidental. No, anything that came with filth-play, with them, was deliberate, terrifying so.

His cock throbbed, unable to do anything but to take it, his entire length disappearing into her mucky arsehole, right up to the hilt. And she was hardly gentle with him either, the flared tip of his shaft scraping along her filthy walls, the mare humping and grinding, spreading her wings as she released just a little more of the tension inside her.

“Unnff… Yes… Yes!”

She screamed, showing her fangs, horn glowing in a blistering flash of magic, but he did not climax with her, regardless of how much the alicorn tightened around him. Nightmare Moon humped and bucked back onto him as if anal penetration was all that she had wanted and yet he could not relax into the moment, knowing that there was something more to come, something that he could not anticipate, regardless of what they had done to him previously.

Her marehood squirted, coating his hanging nuts with a liberal dose of her fluids, his knees wide enough to allow his balls to sink between them. The slickness of it only added to the mess but her grunt as she stayed, to the hilt, on his length heralding her piss splattering forth again in a rancid hiss. His pale nuts were sullied well and truly, though any manner of cleanliness was due to be taken from him, moment by moment, urine trickling over them, marking the skin, soaking into any light coating of fur wherever it was found.

Nightmare Moon panted, her tail hole flexing around him, though Daybreaker demanded that her lust be sated too. The mare’s eyes flared up fiercely as she half-shouldered the queen of darkness aside, her backside shoved onto Arctic’s face.

“Feel my power, slave!”

She released a blast of gas onto his face while Nightmare Moon recovered, though there would be little needed for her as her magic rejuvenated her sexual desire. Yet Arctic gagged and hacked on her stench as she released a dominating blast of noxious gas over his muzzle, the fumes from her backside sweltering as the pegasus pony’s eyes watered. There was no reason for her abusing him in such a way, especially as she ground onto his cock next, taking his cock into her anal ring too.

She could have just had her fun. But she chose to humiliate him regardless, to show him just how weak he was. 

“Little slave… You never fail to be entertaining.”

Arctic’s head spun dizzyingly, barely understanding her, as she took him into her backside, the mare huffing and grunting. Working her arse down on the long pole of colt cock, her burning tail flicked up high, leaving nothing hidden, her marehood thick and plush and gleaming with her arousal and his leaking cum. Of course, she could keep as much of that inside her as she liked, but it was alluring to her too to feel it trickling over her marehood, grinding it down onto his nuts as she faced away from him.

He didn’t want to lose himself too much in the pleasure, as much as Daybreaker squealed and half-kicked out in orgasmic bliss on his cock. He wanted to think of himself as virile, as a stud worthy of the name, able to make them orgasm through anal stimulation alone, but he was a fool, a complete fool. The stallion may have ducked and struggled not to make assumptions, but he was cocky even tied to the chair, the hard, metal manacles closing in a little tighter, tightened with a magical touch that he could not even take note of. The machines were close, too close, and he caught his breath, the mare arching her back, her filthy arsehole pressing down on his cock, stretched wide around his fat, mare-pleasing girth.

He felt it before he realised that they were both staring at him, fangs showing in evil grins. It was a good thing that the manacles were as strong as they were, for the first worming push of excrement grinding into his cock, straining his urethra wide, stole every breath of air from his lungs. Arctic screamed a stallion’s scream, though orgasm was not his to take, neither was he proud of anything in the moment. How could he be when his body was being used and abused in every way by the evil alicorns who only knew how to satisfy their own dirty pleasures. For that, could he blame them?

No… It was their way as they laughed at him, words about how they were going to fill him, stuff him to the brim, bouncing off him. He was not truly present overwhelmed by the sensation of “horse apples”, the rounder, firmer droppings, pushing their way, one after the other down into his shaft. His balls, however, were their first target, even if he did not quite know how they were so easily able to direct their excrement down there.

He grunted, heaving, gasping, his chest tight while his belly heaved and roiled. Maybe he had been wrong to worry about his tail hole that day as shit piled into his nuts, the consistency changing. That much, he could expect, though squishing it through a previously tight tube down into his nuts forced it to squash and press together, the harder droppings compressing, though he felt the weight of them intimately. Even the stench of them relieving themselves washed around him, leaking out around his cock and their anal rings, Nightmare Moon shoving her tail hole back into his face as if she was giving him a taste.

“Lick, slave.”

It was a command given to him as if it was an afterthought to her and he obeyed without thinking. What else could he do? That was all he was, everything he was, a slave to the two of them, his emptied balls now serving another use, a better use. He had not considered why they were draining him, but he might have fought back more if he’d known why – or perhaps not at all. That was not the way of a slave, not at all, his body reacting when while his mind fell deeper and deeper into subservience, gasping at the erotic horror of it all.

There were pangs of pleasure still as his urethra was stretched grotesquely. He didn’t think it could strain any wider than it already was, but, of course, the nightmares proved him wrong every time he thought that something could not be done. Arctic panted heavily, trying to bow forward, but his tongue was too busy sweeping around and around Nightmare Moon’s dirty tail hole, acting as her slave, her toilet slut piss pony in all ways. She released a gush of hotly rank urine over his head, just to show him his place all over again, though that did not wipe the increasing brown stain from his muzzle.

Yellow marks would not be the extent of his debasement that day, not as Daybreaker hissed and climaxed again from the lure of dominating him in such a way. Her backside pushed onto him with raw need coursing through, pumping him full of her excrement, filth working its way deeper and deeper, straining him even as it pressed against his prostate in a very unconventional way. He’d never considered where that tube went inside him, even though it was an integral, important part of his anatomy, though it twisted around to drop into his balls, allowing the bulging of it to grind right up against his prostate.

He shuddered, trying to buck his hips instinctively, for the urge to push back would not be present at such a time, as much as that old scar twinged and pulled within his anal ring, tucked away and not to be made sore, not yet. Arctic heaved as his piss-bloated stomach gurgled yet again, though it was the churning of his shit-filled nuts that made him want to pull away, to serve and yet relieve himself both at the same time.

His tongue pushed into Nightmare Moon’s tail-star, thought it was not clean, not as she relieved herself just a little, letting watery excrement stain her star. The pucker pulsed against his tongue even as the alicorn laughed mockingly, taking full advantage of him in every way, dirtying him, teasing him, taunting him with his complete and utter inability to fight back. His nuts bulged, straining out as lumpy scat filled them, for it was not a smooth round, not like his stomach, as much as the piss and gas in there gurgled and strained to be free. There was nothing much at all that could be free when it came to the alicorns.

His nuts swelled, filled to their normal size, sagging down under their weight, though they squashed against his legs, the feel of a waterier pulse of scat squeezing into him making his head spin. Nothing else existed for him but the filthy dominance of the alicorns, senses awash with dirty scents, clinging to him, even a little filth squeezing down around the length of his cock. He would reek of it for days, weeks, months, his body a vessel, as they had said, nuts swelling, churning, bulging disgustingly. The watery load of scat was a little easier, physically, to take, but his mind still shuddered from it in raw and abject revulsion. He had to, knowing how disgusting it was, how vile it was to have his cock strained and forced to bulge around load after load of scat, all for them to revel in his abuse.

Arctic tried not to pant too heavily as scat clung to his lips, Nightmare Moon revelling in abusing him. Though Daybreaker had to be running empty soon if she did not use her magic. He clung to that thought, the moments of respite that could be his to greedily snatch up for his own, taking while he could. Still, he lapped and lapped, obeying as his nuts bulged, the pushing sensation of the last bits of thicker, heaving excretion making them heave and rumble as if he was able to blow a load. Yet it was not cum and, of course, could not be allowed to leave his body in the same way.

He stole a breath, heaving and panting, trying to wriggle in place to relieve a little of the pressure as Daybreaker pulled off him, Nightmare Moon taking her place. The dirty pucker of the evil sun-mare hung in his vision for a moment before she humped and ground onto his face as if she was using him as nothing more than a rag to clean herself on. There were, of course, more delicate ways to wipe herself off, though Arctic would have been severely amiss to think that she would not take every chance to abuse him.

Pleasure pressed through him as his cock tried to leak, though there was no cum left to drool out, nothing inside him that was not compressed and shoved aside by scat, as much as his body naturally struggled to work to overcome and replace it. He thought his nuts would receive a second helping but it seemed that they were correcting what they had not abused previously, taking his body via his cock instead of focusing on his stomach, stuffing him then from both ends. That was why he gasped and heaved against Daybreaker’s filthy backside, tail hole crammed up to his lips, as his urethra bulged again, straining, pain sparking through even with a throb of pleasure, his bladder taking the brunt of Nightmare Moon’s load.

“Yesss… Oh, it feels so good to relieve myself into a pony again…”

“That’s what the slave is here for, dear.”

Of course, he had no other use but to be used. He panted and stuck his tongue out as he fought to please Daybreaker, as much as everything pressed in on him all at once. The path to his bladder was more direct but that did not stop his body from tightening, trying to push it out, the thick slop of scat not something that could be borne through so easily. It was thick, forcing his body to widen around it, accommodating it, for there was simply no option for him to say no. Even if his body had not been able to take it into his increasingly bloated bladder, she would have used her magic to force him anyway, Arctic panting and heaving, whimpering as he twisted back and forth, straining for some manner of relief.

It was not to come, not as the lumpy bulge under his piss-filled belly rose and rose, his body already not looking like his own anymore. How could it when he was stinking with scat, marked with piss? He was no longer himself, not at all in the way that he remembered, head spinning, his world narrowing. Still, he wanted to serve, as much as it made his guts heave to take scat down into his bladder, trying to tell himself repeatedly that he had no choice, as if that made it any better at all.

It didn’t help, not as his body was forced through the most decrepit of acts, grateful only, in a weak-minded way, that he did not have to taste it. That helped, if only a little, grunting and groaning, lapping pathetically at Daybreaker’s backside, though he hardly noticed where his tongue was anymore. All he knew was that his guts heaved and rolled, straining to take it, his bladder overfull, making him feel as if he was bursting to take a piss, wanting to shift his weight. Yet relief was not to come as watery scat poured forth, sliding more easily through his broken tube, pouring into his bladder to soften the edges of what was already in there, though the bulging lumps remained.

He hung in the manacles, head tipped forward, hardly aware that Daybreaker was no longer abusing his muzzle. His tongue hung out, ready for use, and the evil alicorns stood back, wings lifted, their breasts trembling lightly with the shift of excitement in their bodies. As much as he wanted to squirm and rock his hips, his filthy cock dirtied and stained with scat, he could not, seeking a moment of rest where he thought that it could be afforded to him. Both his nuts and his bladder were overpacked with filth and he hoped against hope that that was the end, that they had no more within them.

Of course, that was not it. That would never have been all.

His flare leaked, thick and full as if he was about to spend a load, yet their lips turned down in the most terrifying of ways.

“That’s not right…”

“No, we can’t have that.”

“Not a drop must escape from the little filth slut.”

Their words washed over him but there was nothing clean about them as he moaned, hips feeling as if they were rocking and thrusting, even if nothing at all was happening to him, locked where he was, leaking and helpless. Arctic whimpered open-mouthed but they lifted him with their magic, carrying something thick and white that crinkled a little towards him.

“Filth ponies like you need to be wrapped up, don’t they?”

His cock ached and throbbed, but he could not understand why it did not soften, lips parting further as he howled with indignation. Despite his submissiveness to them, it was still humiliating, abjectly so, to be wrapped up in a diaper, his cheeks burning, ears tingling with heat, the crinkly material sliding over him. It was soft on the inside with a waterproof layer beyond that, something for little ponies – but he was not little at all! He was a grown stallion!

Yet he had no say in his abuse as they laughed and patted him on the head, though it was harder coming from their hands even then, his crotch bulging thickly even through the diaper, cock shoved into it without a second thought.

“Diapers are traditional for those who can’t control themselves, toilet slave. Didn’t you know that?”

Daybreaker smiled creepily, though that was perhaps as it was so strange to see genuine joy and pleasure in her face. He panted as they taped it up tightly, hiding his dick and equipment, though his stomach ached and churned. Piss sloshed about inside as he turned his head one way and the other, his heart sinking. It didn’t take a genius, of course, to consider what was in those tanks that they had brought in, but the alicorn queens had more dirty play in mind for him still first.

His bladder and nuts ached furiously as they used their magic and their hands to fit him with a deep blue latex suit that was set to cover his full body. At least, that was what he thought, imagining that a full-face mask would slide over his head, but there was only a muzzle to gag him, something shoved between his teeth at the back of his mouth to keep that hole of his open. Arctic did not even fight it, whimpering and whining, the crinkling rustle of the diaper humiliatingly making his ears flick back and forth.

Pinches and gropes had him shivering as they took advantage of him, ensuring that the suit sat exactly where it was meant to, his eyes left able to see, flicking desperately back and forth. It covered even the diaper, though he dared not consider the implications of that, Nightmare Moon wheeling in more tanks and barrels that reeked of waste, marked as such with crude, obscene images and words.

For the scat slave.
 
Toilet slaves only.
 
Scat whore load.
 
Diaper slut droppings.
 
He whimpered. There was more, not only fresh waste but old stuff too, far more than he could ever have imagined came from the castle itself. Maybe they had gone around Canterlot, in some way, collecting it? Arctic shuddered bodily, wings twitching, flapping, though Daybreaker took care of those, binding them tightly, too tightly, pinned down to his back so that they were rendered trapped in latex straps between his back and the metal of the chair.

“All for you, piss pony…”

He didn’t want to think of what they were going to make him do, the “muzzle” that had been locked over his lips clinging tightly to his face, ensuring that not a drop would escape. He panted and heaved, the rancid stench of scat already overwhelming him, dizzyingly so. There must have even been a septic tank in there somewhere, though he didn’t want to think of where that had come from either. It was too much, too much for him, even if he worried that his limits, finally, were about to be reached.

The alicorns did not care for him, not his comfort, not anything. That was just how and why they had spiked every tank and barrel and pail, after all, with diuretics and laxatives too, forcing the slut pony to debase himself further! That, however, was a surprise for Arctic to come later, something that alicorns held in store, exchanging knowing looks with one another.

“Shall we begin?”

He tried to shake his head but a metal band like a manacle clamped around his neck, pinning him in place to the chair, ensuring that that part of him, at least, remained in place while his stomach, nuts, bladder, every other part of him, was left free to bloat and to expand as they pleased.

The mask allowed various hoses to be connected and they fitted one of the largest immediately to a tank that seemed strangely empty, or at least only half-full. He tried not to react, to appear as if it didn’t bother him at all, but the fear shone through in the whites of his eyes. Another two hoses crammed into the sides of his mouth, curving down towards his own body, though he did not yet know that they fed through the latex suit back, quite literally, to his backside, allowing another tantalising pour of filth to squeeze forth from another source. 

Three hoses in his muzzle and so much more to come. Arctic panted and heaved as he tried to close his teeth around what he realised was a thick, heavy, rubber-coated ring gag forcing his mouth open, eyes wide and wild. That could have made it more comfortable for him, but the hoses crammed in there strained his lips even wider, the alicorns giving them all a good shove and a twist to ensure that the mechanism locked them quite securely into place.

“Wouldn’t want anything escaping from our toilet whore now, would we?”

Arctic whined. They didn’t listen.


To be continued in part three…
> Part Three
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inflated by Filth
Part Three 
 
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
 
 
Continued from part two…
 
 
The alicorns moved away, over that tank that had an open-top, reeking the most for its openness. It had been one of the most obviously easiest for Nightmare Moon to move, but its purpose became clear as Daybreaker smirked and turned it on, the machinery rumbling to life, the hose twisting and vibrating as it fed pile after pile of scat down it, straight to his mouth.

“Take it all down you, you filthy whore…”

It should have been too far, too crude of a name, and yet that was not the worst of it as he grunted around the tube, thick piles of fresh (kind of), lumpy scat forced into his mouth. With the ring gag in place, he could have potentially not swallowed it down – but where else was it to go if he refused to do the most basic of things in servitude? Their control over him was secure as he grunted and moaned, tongue pushed down to the bottom of his mouth while gross scat poured in.

The thick lumps were the hardest to work down his throat, hating how he was made to swallow. It would almost have been better if a tube was rammed straight down his throat, but the alicorns were most certainly not about making anything at all easy for him. Oh no, they wanted him to feel every sordid, splattering mess as it oozed and squelched into his mouth, squishing around his tongue, filling his mouth with the taste of it so that there was nothing else that he could think of. Right where they wanted him to be, he was forced to gulp it all down even as his stomach bloated out and out, straining obviously through the front of the suit. 

Yet Nightmare Moon and Daybreaker showed him quite obviously how they were relieving themselves into the feeding tank that he was hooked up to, even then, giving him more fresh lumps of “horse apples” to take down his throat, scat sloshing about in the piss that was already in his belly, mixing horrendously with the gas there. Yet that would no longer be the dominating featuring of his swollen, pained belly as scat pumped into it, forced down his throat into his stomach where it plopped into the already present mess. He grunted and twisted back and forth to the tiny extent that he was able, though it was his belly and heavy, bloated nuts that were even more effective bondage for him, his body restraining him.

He was there to take everything they had to give, Nightmare Moon and Daybreaker finishing off briefly with the feeder tank taking their waste – but they had more still! It may not have come from their own bodies but the lust in their dominance came from abusing him, and they took turns, one after the other emptying pails, tanks, buckets, barrels – everything they had available to them – into the feeder tank. It rumbled and churned away, pumping everything it was given into the hose, even as Arctic’s stomach gurgled ominously, his bladder and bowel feeling very strange. He only caught a glimpse of what was in there, general trash from the palace above, diapers ripped up and stained, even what smelt a bit like compost from the palace gardens… His head swam. How in Equestria had they gotten hold of that? He didn’t know what was worse, if anything could be worse than the filth of their bodies, scat smeared, the mess of diapers in their humiliating presentation.

It was not normal, not as his belly bloated more and more, bigger than a beach ball, though that was a comparison that would swiftly go out the window as his size overcame everything that had come before. Arctic struggled, eyes closed, face screwed up, holding back for as long as he could, twisting, grunting, heaving. If he held off as long as he could, maybe that would help, tongue pushing back against the hose in his mouth, trying to stop the filth from working its way down his neck. He could not understand, not even then, the scale of the muck that was due to be forced into him as his stomach gurgled and gurgled, whining through the hoses while his bowels relieved themselves. It was partly his own waste and mostly what had been forced into him, his body confusing what was to go where, piss flowing down his backside while he tried to relieve the strain in his guts.

Until the very last moment, he fought and fought, his guts gurgling, straining, wanting to release everything, pain lancing through. He needed to go, needed to relieve himself, yet he didn’t want to humiliate himself further, breath coming in panting, snatched, wide-eyed gasps. But the nightmares before him knew that he would fall, eventually. It was all part of the process for them in abusing him.

“Here it comes!”

They mocked him, emptying two barrels in at once to the feeder tank, forcing more and more down his throat, his nuts aching, churning, every part of him crushed from the inside and the outside. There was simply too much scat to go around, pressing in, the pony messily filling the diaper as a thick slop of messy excrement soaked into the fabric. He whimpered and tried to shrink away, but there was simply no way for his humiliation to not be on full show, not even then, his bowels aching, breaking wind as spattering heaves of scat filled the diaper more and more.

Understanding a little more of what was happening to him, Arctic clamped his mouth down around the gag and tried to push it back with his tongue, to hold his bladder, his bowels, as much as his guts ached and pulsed. It seemed to be coming no matter what resistance he offered, however, his belly bloating, the alicorns feeding more and more mixed waste into him, leading him to wonder, dimly, whether it was from farms and properties around Canterlot too, like what Applejack had once had him do with the septic tank. It was gross, bubbling around his tongue, the insides of his lips, but the steady stream of varying scat and waste, piss swilling through it, the liquid easing the path a little, kept right on coming.

Everything that his bowels blasted out was fed back to him, however, as his cock trembled, too much sensation rendering resistance mute. His dick tried to release too, his body knowing that there was something in there that had to come out, though it was not true seed that poured forth, his bladder weakening, mixing with piss. Arctic howled mutely into the gagging hoses and shook in place, his belly lifting higher than his chin and rising quickly. Soon, it would be difficult to see where the pony lay behind his stomach, slick in the blue latex bondage, his guts merely a vessel for the waste that the alicorns wanted to see him pumped through with.

The suit squeezed the waste from his diaper, as that grew too full, into the hoses connected to his backside, funnelling it to his muzzle as his cock ached and spent a load of filthy piss into the sodden padding. It was overfull and had to go somewhere, Arctic grunting, unable to even tell where each load of scat that was fed down his throat had come from. His neck may have burned sickeningly with the humiliation of messing himself, again and again, and yet that was not the main point of it, old mess mixing with fresh as it was forced through his body.

An unending cycle, a circular system… He might have admired their ingenuity in abusing him, though he was more concerned about the massive tank they were emptying into the feeder tank, messy slop splattering in, a mix that he heaved at the thought of it ending up inside him. He may as well have welcomed it, however, for it was going into him one way or another.

Still, his belly rose and rose, even though his diaper tried to keep up with it. The hoses, however, simply were not enough to keep feeding the excess waste back to his mouth, forcing it into his belly, more going into him as the circular system forced it back round again. He hacked and gulped but the throbbing rise of his belly dominated everything, no matter how his guts churned. Arctic no longer even felt his cock and tail hole relieving themselves, everything funnelling straight through him, though he could only be mildly, faintly grateful that it was mainly liquid that poured from his dick.

Mildly. Faintly. It was overcome by all else.

He bloated and bloated, yet the diaper could only hold so much, covered by the suit as he squirmed in place. It warmed around his body, the roil of waste within forcing it to its limit, yet the compounding diet could only lead one way as he howled brokenly, the diaper finally rupturing, filling the suit with all the waste that it should have held! The latex bulged obscenely, showing his inability to hold his bladder, the alicorns laughing and pointing, his backside rising from the chair as the suit was forced to hold it.

“Look, he’s not even any good as a toilet slave anymore!”

“Can’t even keep his own waste in… Pathetic!”

They mocked him all in a way that was designed to humiliate him as the suit shifted, trying to accommodate the mess, though gravity helped a little there. Runnier, more liquid waste seeped down his legs, soaking his crotch, a disgusting sensation of wetness overcoming him from all sides. It stained and soaked his fur, turning it from pale to a vile concoction of brown and yellow and grey, old green to soak into his coat later too, though that would only be seen when, once again, he was bare. The suit covered all as he whimpered, filling the inside of his suit, a messy stallion who couldn’t control himself, who needed to be controlled. 

His suit bulged and bulged, for there was no slowing of the waste that was fed to him, the suit rising more and more. He could barely see anything, head pushing back so that his nose pointed to the ceiling, so far above. Blinking, he tried to focus on that, the stalagmites pointing at him, the crystals so far away, yet it seemed to grow more and more distant before his eyes. Only later would he find that the cavern had been expanding too, the personal effects of the alicorns tucked away in a portal, leaving only them and the waste there to abuse him as they willed.

His gut churned, the pain of it bulging through, lumpy and grotesque, chancing that even the shade of the scat within him could be seen, what with how tightly his skin was stretched along with the suit. That was his imagination at work, however, for he could not see it for himself, even it was true. A steady stream of pissy fluid streamed from his cock as if it could not be stopped, grunting and moaning as the suit billowed out, thicker around his backside yet the weight of it slopping from one side to the other. With the huge strain in the waste from his backside, it could not even be pumped through to his mouth, the suit too giving up in a massive splatter of shit, excrement and piss bursting forth as the alicorns protected themselves.

“Eugh!”

They frowned, shaking their heads, though the relief that Arctic felt was only temporary as they rounded on him, anger flashing. It might have been for show or it may have been genuine, he would never know, as the ruined diaper flopped about, a stinking, massive pile of waste steaming from his backside. 

No, they wouldn’t have that, not from the toilet slut, no. Grabbing the huge pile of filth, mixed through, and the diaper, they latched onto the two hoses that were now useless, fixing them to another two feeding tanks so that he could still receive a steady stream to his mouth! Of course, there was no diaper for it to instantly slop into as it was forced through his system, pinning another diaper on him as soon as the floor was scooped clean with his magic. Every drop of scat had to go right where it belonged, after all, and they were not accustomed to receiving anything less than everything they demanded.

The bigger tanks rumbled and churned, forcing more and more waste into him as they loaded them up, using their magic to lift tanks that were bigger than they were as more and more containers flooded in. With their magic, they seemed to appear from nowhere, though the alicorns revelled in his filthy debasement as Arctic was forced to take it all, the new diaper filling rapidly as his body simply could neither contain nor control any of it.

All of it. All had to come out, working its way through him, triple-feeding him at his muzzle while his cheeks bulged with waste. The slop of it worming around his tongue was almost expected, though the harder, thicker lumps of it were more difficult to take down, even then. There was nothing else to do, however, for he would not be able to breathe if he did not obey, gulping as rapidly as he could with the sheer volume of waste burned his throat, piss rank in the swill of mess.

Filthy rubber, the remnants of the suit around his hips, clung to his groin, marking the outline of his cock through the diaper, the bulging mess straining through, evident as the white material slowly became darker and darker in shade. It leaked around his legs, though he could not feel it through the all-encompassing wetness, grunting and heaving, eyes half-closed, some primal part of his mind finally submitting, in a raw fashion, to their dirty lusts.

Something crinkled and he started to see another diaper floating before him, disappearing around the grotesque round of his stomach, which would have been able to fill a cave easily by that point, to fit it over the previous one. Whether it was bigger than the other or not was none of his concern, grunting thickly, tongue pressed flat as the hoses suddenly pumped a sickening volume of scat into his mouth. That reeked the worst of all, the rancid stench clawing noxiously at his nostrils, demanding that he pay attention to it, as much as he wanted to ignore it, to forget it to the exclusion of all else.

But he could not ignore it, not as his stomach rose and rose, the second diaper containing what the first could not, billowing out, bloating with the mess. That one too blew out, splattering messily, a third laid over the top, responsible for strapping down the mess and the muck of the slutty stallion bound there. He could not control himself, as much as he, so very weakly, still tried to clamp down, to clench his tail hole, though he should have realised just how far beyond his control that was. His belly filled faster than his anal ring could keep up, bladder and bowels spending the waste, the mess rising in all ways but, of course, faster in his stomach than it was anywhere else. The bloat from his bladder could not even be seen anymore, small and pathetic compared to his heaving, churning, gurgling stomach, the lumpy rise challenging all to push his limits even more.

Leakage spilt forth, staining his legs, though they were already slick and brown. The alicorns scooped up the mess, shoving it back into his mouth via the feeder tanks, the rumbling, groaning machines heated with how hard they had to work to feed him, a scat slave with an insatiable appetite. That diaper too stretched thin, scat bulging through, thick logs of it pushed from his backside, though there was no telling what consistency would bulge from it at any one time, it was just that varied. It leaked and spilt, the floor cleaned once more to not let a drop go to waste, stuffing more and more into his mouth, through the tanks, the hoses trembling as they funnelled more and more.

That, however, could be an endless cycle for the alicorns, and they were not in the keeping of finding themselves bored. The waste in the diapers bulged and strained, kept there seemingly by the grace of a god that was not being kind to him in that moment, huge and bulbous, larger than a carriage – maybe a carriage that would have carried all four of their alicorns at their full sizes. Arctic’s head swam. Comparisons were hard, only feeling strain, pressure, slick stench and rancid rumblings…

“You test us, slave pony.”

He did not mean to, not even as they removed the diapers, relieving him of the strain, at least in one way, a new latex suit going over the top of everything in the same shade though, of course, leaving everything contained. A plug rammed up his tail hole with a burst of pain that had his eyes rolling, no consent given, not even then, for such a crude action. Arctic howled brokenly, though the sound would never reach the ears of Nightmare Moon and Daybreaker, not as they shoved everything into the tanks, fixing the new hoses to the mask.

Of course, what they did ensure remained in place was a fresh diaper, thickly padded and humiliating as if he needed it, as if he really could not control himself. Even with the latex suit in place, the slick blue covering him, soon to become as filthy as the pony bound in it, it crinkled and rustled, reminding him of his place. Arctic trembled. The option of choice had been taken from him, just as was right.

“Now… We’ll see how big you can really become!”

They laughed, the new latex suit a thicker layer still of heavy rubber, more and more manacles going around his arms and legs, holding him in place while allowing his gut to bulge. It swelled heavily over the arms, no longer a smooth-ish round but weighed down by itself, scat churning and swelling inside, pushing for precedence over the mess of all the other waste locked up in there. His belly even lay on the floor as he wriggled there, pinned by his own stomach, panting and heaving, though they would take him elsewhere once he was too large for even that. Of course, they still wanted access to every part of him as they sat on top of the tanks that they fed, using their magic to levitate more and more into them, feeding his mouth.

However…it was not all clean waste, the kind of waste that he was used to, that was stuffed into the tanks, forced into the hoses. The billowing, heady swell of his stomach, only ever so slightly depleted by what they’d managed to force out through his bladder and bowels, bulged out grotesquely, more and more, forcing them to levitate the chair, his bondage intact while their fizzing, crackling magic bound him in chains stronger than any metal. Yet they wanted him to feel trapped, even as his stomach rounded more and more, gurgling with scat, the diapers and trash and other waste that filled other tanks and barrels all very suitable for shoving into the scat slut’s throat.

More and more filled it, the alicorns relieving their bowels and bladders too into the feeder tanks, as they had before, though it was not enough alone to bloat him up. The suit swelled to accommodate the bulge of his belly, infused with magic, yet he did not feel at all like he was floating in the air, his stomach dominating, filling the cavern.

He was huge, grossly so, his nuts bulging through the latex, an afterthought to the heaving roil of his stomach. He’d far surpassed what had been their original living quarters, back when he had first met the evil queens, but the cavern seemed to grow around him, allowing him to expand more and more, delirious, his cock aching, throbbing, though it was merely the broken remnants of orgasm that pulsed through him. Maybe it could have been pleasure, at one time, but it was impossible to consider it such when his body was tiny, dwarfed by the heaving monstrosity of his filthy, scat-filled stomach.

There seemed to be no end to the tanks, but, alas, the alicorns were so apt to grow bored with him when their appetites were not sated justly. They needed more, to take him, to abuse him, the hoses adjusted so that the thick, central one was replaced by another that had been set up ready to go, three hoses still and two rammed in the sides of his mouth. That hose was already fastened to a giant tank that appeared as if it had, previously, been at the back of the cell before the cavern had expanded, their magic making it so that he could take everything and more while his belly bloated and gurgled ominously.

Arctic may not have known, but that tank, fed by two hoses, disappearing up and up and up into the darkness, fed the waste from Celestia and Luna’s private chambers, respectively – a few more plumbing changes for the alicorns to claim fame too! All he felt, however, was the thick mass of waste pouring into him, a sloppy sludge that felt, to him, as if it had been sitting there for weeks already, maybe even longer, the latrines well-used and the system overflowing with all that had been poured into it.

He was dimly aware of them adding more to the feeder tanks, though those seemed to be further away from him still as scat pressed out through his belly in thick logs, the latex strained. It was stretched so tightly that the shading of scat, piss and filth through it made it look dirty, even if the outside was clean, filth squirting and oozing around the plug. That was just a tiny flicker of the pressure being released, however, for his tail hole instinctively clamped back down around it as his nuts churned, cock throbbing, the stark outline of it massaged cruelly by Nightmare Moon through the suit. That too had been stopped up with a long sounding rod that fed right the way down into his nuts, though he had not realised, only felt his nuts churning, trembling with the need to spill both a load of cum that had built back up in there and all the scat that he had been filled with too. Plugged where they didn’t want his waste to come from… His head pounded, the pony groaning. It was fitting, as disgusting as it was. If only it didn’t make his cock so hard.

“I thought you must have missed the princesses and their filth,” Daybreaker hissed, sparing a moment to croon, cradling his head, his stomach hanging and bloating, thankfully, away from his face while he was suspended and allowed to grow in tight restriction. “So dirty… No one but us knows what goes on behind closed doors with them.”

All their waste too, all of it… He drifted in and out of reality, three tanks fed to him, swallowing the whole time. As much as the thick lumps of filth stuck in his throat, there was a part of him that was dimly aware that he should have been honoured, to know that he was serving them, satisfying them, playing his part as their toilet slave, regardless of their penchant for humiliating him in filth. His stomach ached fiercely, though it was the strain and pain of being overfilled, the cavern roof appearing closer to him than before. The massive cavern had, previously, stretched out and out, though their original cell had merely been a ruse, something else to twist his sense of reality as they teleported him to another part of their messy, sordid chambers for his abuse.

Arctic didn’t need to know that. All he knew was that there was a diaper thick in his throat, ragged and torn, forcing him to choke it down as he gulped down more and more. It was a never-ending stream of waste, always more, nothing to stop it, months and months of the princess alicorns’ waste pumping down his throat amongst all that the queens stuffed him with. For they were evil queens, it had to be said, furious to debase him, the machinery emptying everything into his muzzle, pump after watery pump.

He didn’t know how long it took until the machines were empty, only that his head pounded, drifting back and forth, swimming in lustful debasement, submissiveness dragging him down. Their wings and magic kept them aloft around him, though the alicorns merely walked on “air” as if it was the ground, their tits huge and heaving, teasing them against his muzzle.

“Shame that you can’t drink straight from the source…”

No, they would not do that, not bearing him the sweetness of that, instead milking their tits into one of the feeders, allowing that to rumble and force the milk to his lips through a sludgy, remaining layer of scat and waste. It tainted the cream from their breasts and yet he still had to gulp it all down, the lump in his throat larger and harder to push by than ever.

It should have been a treat…but it wasn’t. Their milk was another nuance of abuse, something to remind him of what he could have had, if he was the sort of pony to match up to mares of their stature. But that wasn’t what they wanted when they could make his belly churn even more vehemently with their milk and scat mixed, slickening and slopping in a watery haze down his throat as he kept right on swallowing and swallowing.

There was just the one diaper left on him, though it was anything but clean, under the bottom layer of latex, though even the torn edges of the original suit clumped and clung uncomfortably to him. His bloated bladder pressed into the waistline of it, cock wanting to relieve even more, though his body did not know whether it was urine or seed that it needed to spend, compounding the problem for him.

Huge. Suspended. The body that was him no longer seemed to be part of him, only the belly, bloated, a huge, lumpy round that took up near the entire cavern. If he had been in Ponyville, he would have flattened several clearings with his size alone, though the alicorns giggled, darting around him, cruel mischief in their tone. The diaper crinkled, though the rustle of the cloth could not be heard through the suit, even if he could feel it. He felt everything, moaning, everything tight, so very tight, his throat working and working to take that whole revolting mess down his throat, right where it belonged.

“Do you think he can go even bigger than this?”

Of course, they were keen to see, though they did not give him that treat from their breasts. In fact, he didn’t even get to taste their milk as they alternately used their hands and their magic to milk their breasts, creamy rivulets of milk flowing into the feeding tanks. Sometimes, their magic kept it together, allowing him to feel something warmer flowing down his throat, even if he could not taste it, though most was mixed in with the filth and the waste, the slut pony not even good enough to warrant a taste.

No… Not a toilet stallion, a filth slut. It was only for them, just for them, and they revelled in his debasement far too much for that. Arctic whimpered, only half with reality, the alicorns pumping an increasing amount of breast milk into the tanks, his stomach coming up onto the size of the cavern again.

Too much, he was too big… The alicorns did not look small, per se, but they seemed far away to him sometimes, his belly cramming against the cavern wall. He could have flattened at least nine clearings as his stomach swelled and gurgled, the milk mixing viciously with the waste inside him as it churned violently. The gas produced increased the strain, smoothing out his stomach as it filled in the lumpy, scat-ridden gaps, yet it did not help anything, his belly huge even as somepony, somepony who very truly might have been able to help him, entered the room.

With his fur covered in filth, clumps of scat sunk into it, sodden with piss, gurgling with so much waste that his body was no longer his own, Princess Celestia and Luna bore witness to him, the only slave pony in Equestria who could satisfy the lusts of the nightmares. He saw them, the glows of their bodies, but could not even feel shame for his condition, his stomach dominating all. Did his mind matter when what was left of his body was merely attached to that hugely bulbous belly? The cavern grew larger again, within the bounds of, presumably, what the alicorns were permitted to excavate beneath the castle, allowing him more room to grow, even as his backside pressed down heavily into the ground.

“I…”

Lost for words, Celestia shook her head. Luna frowned, but was hardly more eloquent than her, though she did lead the way by shifting to her anthro form. The diapered pony sagged back from the bonds of his bloated belly, the blue of the suit filling the cavern, so huge that one had to turn their head back and forth and up and down simply to get some small idea of the huge scope of it. His diapered backside sagged with filth, anal ring tightening around the plug, though the mess shoved up in there had been all by their design, his body made to be disgustingly used at all times.

“You…” Celestia joined Luna, though her shock could not be hidden so. “You took this from our private chambers? The pipes don’t even reach that far!”

“Oh, relax, Tia, where’s your sense of fun?”

Squatting over the feeder tank, Daybreaker winked and sent another load of excrement into the tank, piss washing it down the pipe, right into the pony’s belly where it belonged. But she approved of being on display too much to spend more time on words, offering only another hose to truly debase the pony, one that linked up to the tanks that were, quite obviously, painted with the cutie marks of the princesses.

That hose locked onto his backside, though not into his tail hole. He felt the tug and the push of it, though anything they filled him with there would not match his belly by a long shot, not unless they kept him there for hours upon hours, used and abused, filth pumped from the princesses into his diapered backside. It squelched crudely through the padding as he gulped, unable to even whimper, muck squishing around his backside, soaking even more powerfully into his fur, the reek clinging to him. Even through the suit he could smell it, burning his nostrils, fed so much scat that he doubted he’d ever be able to taste anything ever again, the latex stretching and stretching to accommodate the lumpy, bulging diaper.

He was huge and their shock, to be fair, could not be long-lived as his diaper inflated with filth, to the point that he would not have been able to waddle with it on, even if his belly had not been so huge. The rubber stretched and stretched, Luna rocking back as it bloated out, though a little magical reinforcement helped keep it in place. The muck, however, could not help but squash and ooze around his nuts as he was filled, Celestia smirking ever so faintly, rubbing her hoof against her muzzle.

“I think there’s a part of him that you missed…”

She could see what they had missed, as grotesquely bloated as Arctic was, magicking in a new tank of fresh waste as Daybreaker raised her eyebrows.

“You missed what the party guests deposited,” she said with a wink and a rather evil grin. “This will fit in those nuts of his quite nicely.”

With his diaper swollen with filth and the suit bulging, it was set to be challenged more as a little magic helped fix a hose into the diaper itself and lock around the head of his cock. It may not have been comfortable as it locked into place but the filth squelching into his dick, worming its way down his length in fat, penetrating logs, could not be held back. No part of Arctic’s body was not left strained, bulging, squeezing out more and more into him, his nuts aching. He didn’t know where that filth was coming from, his diaper overfilled, his balls fit to burst – though that would never happen. No… Oh no. That was not the way of it as his body was forced through more and more humiliating acts, straining and stretching to contain everything dirty, everything that a slave pony toilet like him deserved.

Crrreeeaaak!
 
The suit strained, his lumpy balls bulging, everything bulging. There was no shape left to him anymore, Celestia shaking her head even as she shook her finger at the alicorns, though they were not to be swayed by her scolding.

“Our waste should never be used in this manner…”

“You aren’t being all that convincing there, Celestia.” Nightmare Moon scoffed. “Maybe if you hadn’t hooked the filth slut up yourself…”

Yet it was all in their fun, a good kind of fun, Arctic moaning, eyes half-closed. Thickness pushed through him, his throat forced to bulge around even nastier logs of filth, fresh waste mixing with old as it cloyed its way down his throat, his tail hole squeezing around the plug, his body fighting to force it out.

“That’s why we’re feeding him fresh from the source instead…”

He tried to turn his head, but all he felt was the wrap of firm magic around him, Luna’s blue glow encasing him lightly, gently. Yet the muzzle and hoses being removed from his face did not offer him any respite as he caught her smirk, his vision suddenly filled by the round moon of her backside, her tail hole grinding into his mouth.

Thus, he was forced to gulp down her waste too from her very own backside, so broken that he could not even resist, trapped in the bondage of his own inflated, scat-filled stomach. He swallowed and whimpered, throat raw and burning, though the thick flow kept on coming. Only vaguely was he aware of his cock being drawn out, the hose filtering, only a short length, to Celestia’s backside, the nightmares laughing raucously as the princesses themselves fed and filled him with their scat.

His dick ached and throbbed, but Celestia’s waste was going down his cock, filtering into his nuts, which swelled and swelled, gurgling and rumbling. Even with no available space in his nuts, they still tried to make more cum, his length pulsing in faux orgasm, even though there was nothing to come out, no way that a pony like him could experience true, euphoric pleasure from an act like that.

They’d made sure any orgasm would leave him strained, so that it didn’t even feel like an orgasm at all. All he was proved to be a vessel, a toilet, stained and reeking of scat, taking more down his throat, even then, as Princess Luna giggled and held a hoof to her lips.

“Seems I had a little more in me than expected…”

He could not complain. The stallion did not have it in him to complain. Not even as a particularly thick log followed a pile of round droppings from Celestia, squishing their way down his cock, the log forcing them there as the tight passage inside his length was forced to thicken and widen for it. She moaned out loud, relieving herself openly, but Arctic was not even present in that moment, feeling only, yes, only feeling.

There was nothing else for him, drifting and fading, some part of him luxuriating in the dirty abuse, even though it was not something that he would admit out loud.

The last thing he remembered before passing out was appearing in the woods being Mistress Shy’s cottage – at least, that was where he thought he was. It was strange to see it from so high in the air, his wings hanging weakly, balanced on the grotesque rise of his stomach, trees pricking into it, though he flattened them easily.

So big… How much space did he take up? The cottage would not have been large enough to match the size, as petite as it was, of his testicles, leaving the bulging mass of his belly enough to crush at least half of Ponyville. He swayed on the bulge of his stomach, a diaper plugging his muzzle full, though the squeeze of scat oozing around it was not to be denied.

Dimly, he was aware of Mistress Shy flapping around him, a high-pitched whinny bursting from her lips.

“What have they done to my pet?!”

But it was only what she had agreed, even if more than intended. Her pet was there, the huge, overfilled diaper sagging behind him, filthy and disgusting, though there was more to his use and abuse than even she had realised he could take. Despite her revulsion, holding her hoof over her nose, Fluttershy surveyed him with the calculating eyes of a mistress who had realised a little more about their pony pet than had before been in play.

Their magic kept him safe, but there was only so much that a toilet pony could take, slipping into unconsciousness while his mistress screamed for her friend, Twilight. Ponyville would reel in horror from the scat-filled disgust of his body while the scat pony revelled, in some deep, dark way, loving the filth when he was not permitted to like such a thing openly.

“Interesting… Ugh, you reek!”

Thick, inflated, as he was meant to be. Even in unconsciousness, his lips shifted around the diaper-gag in a weak smile. Fluttershy shook her head. Her toilet pony had more for her… More ways to abuse him, to break him down into her submissive pet, always and forever.

Submission was one thing. But there was always a way to take it deeper.

Always.