> Amplified
>  by Some Leech
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Citizen anxiously shifted in place, stepping forward as the line steadily advanced. It was still hard to believe he’d somehow managed to win VIP meet-and-greet tickets to see the Vinyl Scratch. Yet there he was, standing in a queue to see her in person. Besides absolutely adoring her music, he’d been smitten with the well-built amazoness of a mare from the moment he'd first laid eyes upon her. 

Clutching a poster and her latest album to his chest, he thought about what he’d say to her. She doubtlessly got showered by compliments, so there likely wasn’t anything he could say that she hadn’t heard before. As he stewed on how the interaction would go, hoping he wouldn’t come off as just another fan, he mindlessly shuffled onward. Since it was his first time ever meeting someone so famous, he hoped he’d make a lasting impression.

“Next,” a voice called, shaking him from his thoughts.

Realizing he was being spoken to, he lifted his head. There, standing not a dozen paces away, was the Vinyl Scratch. Standing head and shoulders taller than himself, lounging beside a table full of merchandise, she idly ticked away at her phone. A cold knot formed in his stomach, he swallowed hard, and his knees went weak as he falteringly stepped towards her.

“H...hey,” he mumbled, looking up at the titanic woman.

Lowering her head, Vinyl peered over her shades at the shorter unicorn. “'Sup?”

Though he’d tried to prepare himself for the impending encounter, all his planning and careful forethought went straight out the window. Absolutely in awe of her size and magnificence, his eyes wandered up and down her frame. Not only was she the biggest mare he’d ever met, but she was actually talking to him. Steeling himself, he stowed the two items he hoped to get autographed under one arm and extended his hand.

“I’m Citizen,” he began, wincing slightly as she gave him what she likely considered a normal handshake, but was a far firmer squeeze for his comparatively frail hand. “But everyone calls me Citi.” 

His anxiety was making it hard to think and nearly impossible to look her in the face. In every conceivable way, she was astonishing. Her talent and good looks were only rivaled by her profoundly imposing presence, making him feel all the more inadequate. Out of nowhere, catching him by surprise and causing him to step back, she leaned over him, lifted her glasses, and grinned.

Vinyl relaxed her grip and nodded to the poster and album under his arm. “You want those signed, little dude?” she asked, lifting her glasses and hooking them above her horn. The stallion nodded dumbly and smiled like an idiot, holding the items out to her. Pulling a silver felt-tipped marker from her pocket and uncapping it with her teeth, she took the proffered merchandise and laid it on the table. “Big fan, huh?”

“Y...yeah,” he croaked, nodding enthusiastically.

Handing over the autographed CD case, she shifted her attention to the poster. “So, what’s your favorite?”

The question sent Citi’s mind reeling. Favorite? Favorite what? Favorite album? Favorite performance? Favorite outfit? His thoughts ran rampant, sending his stress levels sailing through the roof and leaving him a confused, stammering mess. Desperately trying to form a reply, his eyes drifted over her body...and landed on something out of place.

The fabric of her jeans where they covered her groin was misshapen. It almost looked like something was stuffing her pants, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He’d seen countless videos of her various performances and interviews several times, so he should have spotted something so out of place - then again, this was the first time he’d ever been so close to her before. Knowing he had to say something to her, lest he look even more foolish, he took a shuddering breath.

“Y...your bulge,” he automatically blurted, wholly unaware of what he’d said or the fact that he was still gazing at the swell in her slacks.

Realizing a split second too late what he’d said, his gaze flew to her face. Staring dead at him, the mare slowly raised a brow. He broke into a cold sweat, his jaw flapping uselessly as realization dawned: Even if there wasn’t anything in her jeans, he’d just said the dumbest, most brazen thing possible.

“I-I...I’m…” he quietly babbled, inching closer to her.

Glowering, the DJ scribbled out the rest of her signature, rolled up the poster, and handed the item back to him. “Thanks for coming. Next!” she barked, peering over at the line of fans and waving the closest one over.

Utterly crushed, Citi took his items and ran off down a corridor and towards the exit. It would have been bad enough to squander his chance to meet the idol, but he’d done something far, far worse than that. Being another nameless fan would have been a tender mercy compared to looking like some lusty, awkward sycophant! Even if he got a chance to meet her again, he felt sure she’d have him escorted away by security.

Bursting through the exit and into the cool night air, he scampered into the parking lot and towards his car. He had no real need to go back to his inn, since he had nothing to do there, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay at the venue. He wouldn’t even be able to go home for another three days, because he’d taken a train to Manehattan to see her performance. As he unlocked the vehicle and hopped into the driver seat, the CD and poster he’d held under one arm fell to the floorboard.

Staring at the pair of items, he was hit with a wave of self-loathing and sorrow. He didn’t even want the stupid merchandise anymore, since he knew they’d only serve as reminders of his bumbling, moronic blunder. Tossing the CD into the passenger seat, he scooped up the poster and unfurled it. If nothing else, he could probably sell them online to recoup some of the money he’d spent on the trip and ticket for the show itself.

As he unrolled the oversized piece of paper, wistfully admiring the photo of the disk jockey, he froze. Vinyl’s signature rested in the corner, but there was something else scribbled beneath her autograph:

Mare-iot Hotel
Room 707
11:00

Confusion washed over Citi, as he blankly stared at the cryptic little message. As impossible as it seemed, it looked like the DJ had given him an invitation of some sort. Reading and rereading the handful of words, he tried to put the pieces together. He honestly couldn’t fathom why she’d want to see him again, especially after making himself out to be a pervy idiot, but there was no way he could stand her up!

Starting his car and glancing at the clock, seeing he had just under two hours until he was supposed to show up at what was presumably her hotel room, he drove out of the parking lot and towards his lodging. Regardless of why Vinyl wanted to meet with him, he swore he wouldn’t let his second chance with her go to waste. Cruising towards his inn, he held onto the slightest glimmer of hope.

The next hour passed in a blur, before he was back on the road and heading towards the Mare-iot Hotel. He’d had enough time to shower, change, brush his mane back, and even shave his face prior to leaving his room. He hadn't anticipated any formal occasions, so the best clothes he'd brought with him were a clean t-shirt, shorts, and his usual tennis shoes; it wasn’t much, and he doubted she’d be impressed, but it was better than the sweat-soaked garments he’d left her show wearing.

A while later, after navigating his way through the bustling metropolis, he reached his destination. The hotel she was staying in was absolutely massive, making the inn he had chosen look like a shabby funhouse. After circling the blocks for a handful of minutes, watching his clock tic ever closer to eleven, he scrunched his snout. Biting the bullet and paying for a space in a nearby parking deck, he jogged down to Mare-iot’s front door.

As he neared the entrance, he slowed—not because he cared about what anyone may think of him, but because he needed to collect himself. Using one of the mirrored windows on the building’s face, he looked himself over. He was still the short, brown furred, unspectacular unicorn he’d always been, somewhat average for a stallion, but at least he didn’t look bad. Swearing he wouldn’t fuck up a second time, he moved into the building, summoned one of the elevators, and quietly rode up to the seventh floor.

Once he reached the seventh floor, he stepped out of the lift and, with a long breath to steady himself, moved down the hallway. 701...702…703...704...As he slowly passed the rooms, drawing closer to his goal, his apprehension mounted, but he pressed on. By some cosmic grace, he’d been given a chance to salvage his image, and he’d be damned if he was going to chicken out and run away. Coming to a stop before door 707, he held his breath, lifted his hand, and knocked.

“Who is it?” a gruff yet distinctly female voice called, sending a shiver up his spine.

“Citizen - er - Citi,” he responded.

“Who?” the voice shot back.

He shook his head and screwed his eyes shut, praying he hadn’t been on the receiving end of some prank. “Citi! The stallion whose poster you signed!”

Though there was no immediate reply, he detected the sound of movement from within the room. He stepped back, hearing someone big moving towards the door. It was his last chance to get away, to try and forget ever making an ass of himself, but he didn’t budge. As the door swung open, revealing the unmistakably tall, built form of the DJ, his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh yeah, the little dude,” Vinyl remarked with, of all things, a smile. Without so much as waiting for his reply, she turned around, plodded back into her room, and waved for him to follow. “Come on in.”

Citi could scarcely believe what was happening; for whatever reason, she’d invited him to her room for a second, far more private visit. It was quite literally a once in a lifetime opportunity, being able to spend any amount of time with her in private, even if he was utterly baffled by it all. Nearly dashing in after her, he closed the door behind himself and surveyed his surroundings.

Her accommodations, while spacious, appeared relatively standard. The clothing she’d worn at the show was haphazardly thrown in a corner, beside two large suitcases. At some point, likely when she’d gotten back to her room, she’d changed into a simple t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, having abandoned her tighter, flashier apparel for something more comfortable. Besides the typical luggage, a pair of laptops and a mixer board had been set up in the far corner of the chamber.

“I gotta admit,” the mare began, retrieving a beer from the mini-fridge, “I’m kinda proud of you for showing up. Most of the time, folks punk out and leave me hanging.” Chuckling to herself, she cracked the can open and took a sip. “Props to you for that.”

“T...thanks,” Citi murmured, feeling his cheeks darken.

Stepping over to him, she thoughtfully scratched her chin. “Anyways,” she continued, “what was that you said at the after-show? You liked my…” she let the question hang, affixing him with her cerise gaze.

He gulped, having had no way to anticipate the question. Licking his lips, feeling as though his mouth was full of sand, his thoughts raced. He could have bullshitted her, claimed he’d said something else, but there was a damn good chance she’d see through his deception. His shoulders wilted and he slowly exhaled as he realized it would probably be best to tell her the truth.

“I said I liked your bulge,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. “It was a stupid thing to say, I know, but I was overwhelmed and just blurted out something.”

“I mean,” she snickered, unabashedly fondling her crotch, “it is a pretty awesome bulge.”

Citi’s head shot up, his eyes widened, and his mouth hung open in shock, doubting what he’d just heard. “I...what?”

“My bulge,” the mare hummed, cupping some unfathomable mass within her pants, “it is pretty awesome. If you don’t believe me, check it out for yourself.” Hooking one thumb over her elastic waistband, she tauntingly tugged at the garment.

Standing within arm’s reach of the colossal mare, watching her fan her slacks, a peculiar aroma wafted to Citi’s nose; it smelled odd, but not in a bad way. Strong and earthy, with a strange piquant note, he couldn’t place the scent until he peeked up to her face. Vinyl’s smirk broadened into a wolfish grin, as she glanced at her loins.

“It’s hitting you, isn’t it?” she observed, cocking her head to the side. Before he could say a word, she stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead and check it out,” she instructed.

“What?” he repeated, completely at a loss.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Get over here, pull my pants down, and ogle my goddamn junk. Come on, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

He’d definitely heard her right, but the information refused to sink in. Frozen like a deer in the headlights, he fidgeted with his hands until she groaned and stepped directly before him. With only a few inches between his face and her rack, he could swear his heart was about to pound its way out of his chest.

“First time?” she asked. The little stallion nodded, only fleetingly peering up at her. “Ok, so, here’s what you’re going to do...” she muttered, leaning forward and grabbing his wrists. “You’re going to do exactly what I say, starting with pulling my pants down.”

Finding his hands pulled to her hips, Citi did his best to process everything that was happening. “So…” he falteringly whispered, only reluctantly looking to her face. "You're asking me to pull your pants down.”

“No, little guy. I wasn’t asking you to pull my pants down, I was telling you to pull my pants down,” she sternly corrected, leering down at him. “If you really want to do it right, slowly squat down when you do it; I want to see your reaction when you’re face to face with it.”

Seeing few other options, he steeled his resolve and did as he was asked—no, told. A strange mixture of bewilderment and arousal surged through him as he steadily lowered himself and continued drawing her pants to the floor. The fabric of her slacks gradually passed over her hips, giving a tantalizing glimpse of her cream colored hide. Only when the garment slipped lower, approaching the mysterious swell at her groin, did he slow.

As inexplicable as it was, the dark, root-like base of something appeared before him. Hauling the pants lower revealed inch after inch of thick, hairless, vascular flesh. Though he couldn’t wrap his head around it, the sight was unmistakable; he was looking at an exceptionally huge stallionhood, replete with a pair of absolutely huge balls. The obscene and awe-inspiring organ was a sight to behold.

Each testicle had to be bigger than his fist and easily the largest he’d ever seen. The grapefruit sized nuts and immense cock made his package look absolutely pitiful in comparison. Staring at the titanic equipment, unsure of what to say or do, a snicker from above caught his ear. Forcing himself to look away from the magnificence of her loins, he peered to her face.

“There it is,” she contentedly hummed. “Heck, I thought you were going to kiss it for a second, you were gawking so hard.”

“Wha...How are…” Citi sputtered, reeling from the puzzling turn of events. 

He instinctively backed away, but the mare extended one arm, rested a huge hand on his head, and pulled him back towards her crotch. Finding his muzzle forcibly inching closer to her groin, he resisted, momentarily caught off guard by her insistence. It was an infuriating moment, with his interest warring against his reluctance, yet it ultimately mattered little. Her patience gone,  the large unicorn stepped forward and ground her equipment against his snout.

“Why are you fighting it?” she growled, her voice somehow both seductive and menacing. “Breathe it in and savor it. If you’re a good colt, I might just let you suck on it.”

Though his face was pressed against Vinyl’s hot, unwashed equipment, the mention of oral stole his attention from her package. Glancing up at her, he placed his palms on her thighs and pushed himself away. “Suck it?”

“Duh,” she grunted. “I didn’t invite you over here to look at it.”

Citi’s eyes widened, as her declaration sank in. Now it all made sense: she’d had every intention of using him as a booty call! Vinyl's fame meant that she could pick and choose fans to help her relieve herself whenever she pleased, and she’d chosen him to entertain her for the evening. He still couldn’t explain how or why she had a giant cock, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

His gaze swept down her chest, over her abdomen, and ultimately to her now-semi-erect stallionhood. Though he didn’t consider himself gay, his boner apparently considered otherwise, and he had to admit there was something obscenely hot about seeing a mare with a dick. Still, even if he wanted to blow her, and some part of him clearly did, he had no experience with such a thing.

“Well?” she huffed, tapping her foot.

Licking his lips, he steadied himself, leaned in, and kissed the trunk-like base of her length. With his nose against her sheath, the nexus of her musk, he deeply inhaled. Her scent was intoxicating, and it spurred him onward. As he reached up to fondle one of her shockingly weighty balls, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much seed the mare could produce. His lust overtaking his trepidation, he opened his mouth.

As he dragged his tongue over the thick, pungent folds of flesh at the root of her stallionhood, and then up along the shaft, bitter, salty flavors washed over his taste buds. Working his way towards the tip, he closed his eyes and fixated on the alien sensations she afforded. As confounding as the situation was, he couldn’t deny how turned on he was getting. Reaching the tip of her length, coming face to face with the battering ram-like head of her tool, he was hit with a startling realization: even though he wanted to please her, her cock itself presented quite an obstacle; it was thicker than his wrist and easily as long as his forearm! Shifting his grip, he lifted the gargantuan package towards his face. The weight of her cock alone was intimidating enough, although there was one small detail that made him wary - she wasn’t even fully hard.

Acting quickly, hoping to buy himself some time, he brought his snout to her glans and began sloppily making out with her dick. While he was completely inexperienced with sucking someone off, he’d seen enough porn to have a basic concept of what to do. As he continued to fondle her twin cum-factories, his right hand gently stroked and squeezed what part of her length he was able to wrap it around. The seconds dragged on while he fervently tongued her cock-head.

“Not too shabby,” she whispered above him, affectionately running her fingers through his mane. “But it’s about time we stop fucking around.” 

The kindness faded from her voice, replaced by a cold edge as her digits clamped around the back of his skull. Trapped in her vice-like grip with no chance of fleeing, he was left at her mercy as she steadily pressed her hips forward. Citi’s palms flew to her waist, hoping to stop her advance, yet she ignored or dismissed what little resistance he put up. The tip ground past his lips, but things took a turn when he wasn't able to get his teeth out of the way, leaving them to nearly bite the fat stallionhood. The mare angrily hissed and withdrew, shoving him backwards and setting him off balance. Crashing to his ass, the stallion fretfully peered up at her.

“What the fuck?” she barked, grabbing her dick and inspecting it for damage. “What kind of fucking amateur are you?!”

More than a little disappointed with himself, and upset that he’d unintentionally failed her, Citi did the first thing that came to mind—he told the truth. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before, alright?” he lamented, shakily pushing himself up to face her.

“Then why did you come here?” Vinyl countered, cocking a brow.

“Because you’re amazing, a-and you're hot, and because I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. I didn’t know you had, um—” he faltered, peeking at her goods. “Anyway, yeah, I had no idea things were going to turn out like this.”

Squinting over at him, the mare incredulously scanned his face. “And you want to fool around with me?”

Despite the fact that he’d been practically french kissing her tool, the question made him blush. “I...I guess…?”

A tense silence settled between the two, before the mare stepped back and pointed at him. “If that’s true, strip. I want to see what I have to work with.”

Though he found himself ogling her equipment, the request made him do a double take to her face. “Huh?” he croaked.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you. If you want me to break you in and teach you a few things, I’d be more than happy to. But…!” She paused, lifting a finger and locking eyes with him. "No more questions, no more disobedience, no more indecision. If you do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, I’m sure you’ll love our time together.”

Nodding, Citi was all too happy to reach for his collar and start pulling his shirt up and over his head. Dick or no dick, he’d just been given a golden opportunity to get frisky with one of the premier musicians in all of Equestria! Tugging the garment off and tossing it to the side, leaving his upper half exposed, he swiftly unfastened his belt. Though it was a bit embarrassing to bare himself in front of her, she’d been naked from the waist down for the last few minutes. Leaning forward, after unbuttoning his fly, he pulled his boxers and pants to his ankles.

Now all but nude save for his shoes and socks, he straightened up to face her. He had to fight to keep from covering himself, forcing his hands to stay at his sides, yet he somehow managed. Through it all, he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the face. As she lazily walked around him, all he could do was hang his head and hope she liked what he had.

“Not a bad start, but you’re going to need a little work,” she flippantly noted.

“W...work?” he uneasily repeated, lifting his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” she remarked, dismissively waving a hand. “Alright, next step, lay down and hang your head off the foot of the bed,” she commanded, nodding to the king-sized mattress.

Citi did what he was told, not having to be told twice. After kicking his pants and shoes away, he clambered onto the bed, rolled onto his back, and got into position. Though everything appeared upside down, he watched the DJ strut over to him. It was funny; up until fifteen minutes ago, he’d always assumed she was a normal, albeit large mare - now, having discovered she was exceptionally well endowed, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her equipment.

“Sweet Celestia, you really do have it bad,” she laughed.

Following her gaze, he looked down his chest. His stallionhood, so hard that it hurt, was leaking pre-cum like a faucet. He hadn’t so much as touched himself and he felt like he could cum at any second. When he rolled his head back and found her standing right in front of him, he understood why she’d had him take the position: Situated as he was, his face was level with her groin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she planned to do with him, and his pulse quickened at the thought.

Patting the mattress to either side of his head, Vinyl grinned down at him. “Hands…”

Without questioning her, he lifted his arms and brought his hands towards hers. In the blink of an eye, she roughly seized his wrists and pinned his limbs in place. Given her size and supine position, he was totally at her mercy. His concern must have been easy to notice, since she slowly shook her head above him.

“Trust me, it’s for your own good,” she tutted, gradually aligning her stallionhood with his face. “Mares don’t get to get off unless they’re told to. Now then, open wide…” As his mouth obediently hung open, she stepped forward and brought her cock to his awaiting maw. “Deep breath,” she purred and began grinding her length into his muzzle.

Pinned as he was, all Citi could do was hold his jaw open and pray she’d take it easy on him. His lips painfully stretched around her length, until he thought he couldn’t handle any more. Peering down the underside of her shaft, seeing he’d only managed to take roughly a third of her in his snout, his blood ran cold. He had no idea how he could service, but it appeared that that mystery was about to be solved for him. As the colossal tool delved deeper, nudging the back of his throat, he stifled a gag.

Though he writhed beneath her, his head remained firmly in place. Through sheer force of will, he was able to fight the urge to bite down or resist. He’d seen folks throat comparably sized toys or dicks before, so he knew it was possible, but that did little to calm his nerves. Drawing a deep breath and remembering her words, he did what he could to relax himself.

Sensing the opening, she thrust herself into his muzzle. “Good girl,” she purred.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when she plunged her shaft into his esophagus. What oxygen he’d taken in was trapped in his lungs, as his airway was thoroughly plugged. The mare wasted no time, lazily humping his face and driving herself deeper into his gullet. Concern over his lips coping with the immense intrusion was eclipsed by something far more profound - he could feel his throat bulging outward.

The only sounds to escape him were the occasional muted sputter or cough. Mercifully, either out of pity or experience, she occasionally withdrew just enough to give him a sip of air. It was both the hottest and most terrifying thing he’d ever experienced, and he would have gleefully gotten off to the event if he’d had use of his hands. However, he was relegated to grinding his thighs together and smearing them with the steady stream of pre-cum dribbling from his prick.

Uncaring for his comfort or wish to get off, Vinyl increased her rhythm. Her long, steady strokes transitioned into much more forceful, shorter plunges as she inched deeper and deeper into him. Eventually cutting off his airway entirely, with her balls swinging forward to slap against his eyes, she used him like he was little more than a disposable toy.

Despite the harsh treatment, his arousal outshone his fear. His lungs burned, his heart thundered wildly in his chest, and a panic welled within him, yet he could think of nothing but the mare plowing his muzzle. She was simply astonishing, superior to him in every way, and a part of him embraced his inferior role; compared to her, he deserved to be wantonly abused.

Wholly choked by her magnificence, the only sounds filling the room were the behemoth mare’s grunts, his choking, and the steady Plap Plap Plap of her balls impacting his face. As badly as he wanted to jack off, a more pressing issue robbed him of his bliss. His vision blurred and his thoughts grew muddied, as the lack of oxygen took a heavy toll.

Without any warning or preamble, Vinyl took a final step forward, hilted herself in his snout, and started jackhammering his face. His head limply hung over the edge of the bed, giving her all the depth she needed, while her shaft madly throbbed in his throat. He couldn’t say how long he stayed like that, teetering on the brink of passing out, until he spied her nuts snuggling against her groin.

Right as he was about to go under, her climax shook him back to reality. What felt like liters of spunk surged through her pulsing length, being directly deposited into his stomach. His thrashing intensified as his belly gurgled from the insane influx of cum.

On and on her climax went, his gut ballooning outwards. How she could produce such a prolific load was as amazing as it was frightening, yet there was nothing he could do. Giving a final fitful hump to ensure that the last spurt of her essence joined the rest, she sluggishly retracted her hips and stepped away.

Just before she withdrew her stallionhood from his maw, she stopped and cranked her shaft. Reflexively coughing, refreshing his lungs, the final bits of her cum sailed from his nose and from around her softening length. He would have been mortified with the development, had he not been literally bloated with jizz and grateful for the air he’d so desperately needed.

Chuckling to herself as she hauled her cock free of his muzzle, she stared down at him for a fleeting moment. Having expelled a seemingly endless wellspring of seed from her balls, she released his arms and pushed him further onto the bed. As his head slid up and onto the mattress, he weakly smiled—at least until she turned away. Before he could react, she squatted down and smashed his face into the cleft of her ass.

The second his muzzle was pressed to her sweaty, musky pucker, his body was rocked with the most intense climax he’d ever experienced. His hips fitfully bucked into the air, his prick spewing a comparatively pitiable load over his distended abdomen and chest; in that moment, she became his entire world. Mewling into her rump while he pawed at her thighs, he rode out his orgasmic bliss.

“Told you you’d love it,” she snickered, standing tall and wheeling back around to face him. “Now, then,” she cooed, slapping his cheek with her semi-erect length. “Be a good bitch and lick me clean.”

Without so much as a second thought, Citi put himself to work mopping the cum and saliva from her shaft. Eagerly swallowing down every bit of her seed, he lovingly caressed her thighs. He would never have believed he was capable of doing something so raunchy with someone so famous, yet here he was, and he couldn’t be happier.

“Shit, hang on,” she grunted, abruptly stepping away. Trotting to her luggage, she stooped down and rummaged around for a moment. “Here,” she chirped, tossing him a bright pink length of leather. “If you want to see me again, you’re gonna wear that twenty-four-seven. Got it?”

Citi nodded, inspecting the collar. It was embossed with the word Princess, but his cum-addled mind only vaguely realized the implications of the order. Slipping it around his neck and fastening it in place, he smiled dreamily at her.

“There’s a good girl,” she hummed, walking by and patting his head. “Keep your phone on you, 'cause I'll want pics of you wearing that...You know, to make sure you’re staying faithful.”

“O...ok,” he wheezed.

“That’s another thing,” she groused, nonchalantly digging into his pants and taking his phone. “If we’re really going to do this, you’re going to call me Mistress,” she continued, tapping away at the device. “I just put my number in here, so expect an occasional text.”

Citi bobbed his head and rolled to his side, unsteadily righting himself. “Alright…”

“Alright what?” she snarled.

“Alright, Mistress,” he corrected, bashfully looking away from her.

“Good girl,” she huffed, that smugness returning. Cracking her beer and waved her hand as she took a draught. “I’ll be in town for the next few days, so expect a call or text.”

As Citi got to his feet, glancing over to his discarded clothes, he was unsure of how to proceed. Some part of him was starting to process what she’d said, but he was still having a hard time understanding what it all meant. Somehow, he’d curried favor with the DJ, and she’d promised that she’d be in touch. Looking towards the restroom, knowing he needed to get cleaned up, the sound of a clearing throat caught his ear.

“Before you ask, no, you can’t use the shower. I want you to go home absolutely reeking of me - that being said, I’m sure you’ll be getting off to it later…” she mused.

He knew she was right, already feeling blood rush to his dick. Without saying another word, he got dressed, donned his shoes, and saw himself out. The whole evening had been an insane whirlwind of events and, honestly, he could scarcely believe it had happened. Languidly moving through the hotel and into the parking lot, he patted the phone in his pocket. As strange as the day had been, something told him that things were only going to get more bizarre from here on out…
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Citi honestly couldn’t say what he’d expected, after his impromptu and wholly unplanned meeting with Vinyl, but it sure wasn’t waking up to a series of texts. Once he’d gotten back to his hotel room, having helped himself to a quick shower, he’d collapsed in bed. The following morning, he’d awoken to discover no fewer than ten messages from the bedicked DJ. Most of the texts were her pestering him or berating him about his lackluster oral skills, but it was the last one which really caught his eye.

Be at my room before twelve if you ever want to choke yourself on my fat cock again…

It went without saying that he hastily got dressed, ran downstairs, and hopped into his car. Truth be told, the night before, while a bit shocking, had been insanely hot. Once he’d gotten back to his hotel, he’d gotten off twice to the thought of her, once in the shower and once in bed, so the prospect of getting more time with her sent blood rushing to his loins. Getting breakfast could wait, going to visit the local aquarium could wait - for the time being, he needed to attend to his Mistress.

His drive through town was uneventful, even if it did take longer than expected; what was supposed to be a fifteen minute commute had nearly taken an hour because of the traffic. Using the same parking garage he’d used yesterday, coughing up another fifteen bits to the grumpy mare manning the booth, he jogged to and into Vinyl’s hotel. Excited as he was to see her again, he couldn’t help but wonder why she’d summoned him so early; nevertheless, it didn’t take him long to find her room and, before he knew it, he was standing at her door.

“Vinyl?” he announced, rapping on the entrance. “I got your texts and I -”

“Fucking took you long enough,” the colossal mare growled, throwing the door open. “You were supposed to come running right when you got the message.”

Wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers, the mare was just as big and imposing as he remembered. Looking her over, basking in her splendor, his eyes almost instantly settled on her groin. Spying her barely concealed package would have been provocative enough, but he got to see much more than that. Dangling out of her shorts and resting against her thigh was her mammoth stallionhood.

Nonplussed and more than a little anxious, Citi shied away. “But I was asleep,” he explained, producing his phone. “Then I got stuck in traffic and-”

“Listen up,” she interrupted, clapping one meaty hand on his shoulder. “If you want to be my bitch, you will come running when I call. If I say jump, you say ‘how high’. When I tell you to suck my cock, you drop to your knees. It’s really not that hard to understand…”

“I...I’m sorry,” he sputtered, finding it immediately difficult to look her in the eye. Peeking up at her, hoping he hadn’t fucked up too badly, he noticed the corner of her mouth turn up.

“I saw where you were looking,” she chuckled, nodding down her chest. “Go ahead,” she continued, lightly bucking her hips, “keep on staring, fag, it’s not like you’ll be doing yourself any favors.”

“Huh?” he grunted, knitting his brow. “Favors?”

Shaking her head, Vinyl lazily turned around and traipsed back into her room. “Come on in and get comfy, I got some good news for you.”

Citi wasn’t sure what he was most confused by - the fact that she’d casually greeted him in a state of undress, that she’d expected him to drop everything and come running, or that she supposedly had some good news for him. Regardless of what she was planning, he couldn’t help himself from following her. Trotting into the suite, he closed the door behind himself.

“Ok, so…” she began, moving by the dresser and picking up a box of cold pizza, “about that good news.” Reaching the corner of the room, with the leftovers in her hand, she seated herself in a recliner by her turntable. “You’re going to be my new squeeze,” she flippantly remarked, before sinking her teeth into a slice of pie.

“Your squeeze?” he parroted, only vaguely familiar with the term. “You mean like your coltfriend?”

His question apparently struck a chord with her, causing her to nearly choke on her pizza. Laughing to herself, reaching for an open soda she had sitting nearby, she sent flecks of cheese and crust sailing to the floor. “Holy shit, you can’t joke like that when I’m eating! Fucking coltfriend, you gotta be colt to be a coltfriend,” she wheezed.

“Then what are you -” he cut himself off, seeing her raise a finger.

“You’d be my squeeze, my slam-piece, travel-ass; call it whatever you like, you’d basically be part of the crew,” she explained. Seeing him fidget by the door, she motioned to the bed. “And sit your dumb ass down. Standing there like you don’t have a cum-drunk brain in your head - Jeez.”

Doing as asked, Citi strolled over to the mattress and seated himself. “So, wait, you’d want to have me around just for sex?”

“If you can call it that, yeah,” she grunted, finishing one slice and fishing for a second. “Considering how piss poor you were last night, it’d take a while to get you half-decent in bed - that being said, I think you have potential.”

“Really?” he bleated, his joy eclipsing the insult she’d just leveled at him.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, chewing and swallowing another bite. “I’m willing to bet you’d be a top-tier slut in no time flat - that is, so long as you do everything I tell you.”

Citi didn’t know what to say. After all his years of pining after Vinyl, he’d not only gotten the chance to sleep with her - well, get his throat swabbed by her - but she wanted to take him along on her tour! It was a damn compelling offer, being able to be around her practically all of the time, although it would be easier said than done. Dreams are all well and good, until you remember to account for reality.

While his life wasn’t the best, he had a decent thing going. He had a little apartment for himself, he’d just gotten a raise at his job, and he had a cat back home. Even if he wanted to take her up on the offer, which he very much did, the thought of simply abandoning everything he had was ludicrous.

“As much as I’d like to, I don’t think that’s possible,” he sighed, hanging his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it would be super fun, but I can’t just-”

“Can’t what,” she guffawed. “Can’t quit your shitty job? Can’t leave your crummy little apartment? Can’t ditch your marefriend? Wait, do you have a marefriend?”

“N...no,” Citi sullenly responded, keeping his eyes on the carpet.

“Damn, and here I was thinking I get to fuck her in front of you. Listen, fuck all that other stuff. You’ll have food, a bed, and as much mare-meat as you could want,” she snickered, brazenly fondling her package. “Hell, more mare-meat than you could want.”

“I don’t know…” he groaned.

“Well,” she grunted, unseating herself and striding before him. “For starters - I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you. A bitch like you is a diamond in the rough. Trust me, once I’m done with sprucing you up, you’ll be turning heads and popping boners wherever you go.”

The comment, while flattering, elicited a question he’d had since he met her - could he even call himself straight anymore? It wasn’t like he’d ever thought about cocks much, but his time with her had evoked an existential crisis like no other. As soon as he’d seen her prodigious tool, he’d thought about little else.

Shifting his thighs together, realizing all too well that he’d grown partially erect hearing her offer, he slowly shook his head. “I...I don’t know.”

Shrewdly rubbing her chin, as a devilish smile split her muzzle, she wheeled around and faced away. Without saying a word, she leaned forward, hitched her thumbs over her boxers, and pulled her underwear down her legs. Mouth agape, eyeing the succulent nuts and well toned ass of his host, all Citi could do was stare in open awe - that was until she started backing up.

Before he could do anything whatsoever, his face hovered mere inches from her fat, swollen nuts; the sight alone was compelling enough, but the smell - sweet, merciful Celestia - the smell was godly. Breathing heavily, drawing in her scent, his face drifted towards her musky taint. It was as if his body was acting on autopilot, bringing him to the fragrant nexus of the divine bouquet.

“Zero to faggot, just like that,” she purred, reaching back and flicking his painfully erect prick. Straightening up, just as quickly as she’d put on the debaucherous display, she peeked over her shoulder at him. “There’s an outfit for you in that bag,” she intoned, nodding towards a small, ornate package in the corner, “go clean yourself - all of yourself - then get changed and come back in here. If you really want to turn me down, fine, but you’ll eventually regret it.”

Citi peered over at the parcel, wondering what it held. Between his curiosity regarding what sort of outfit she’d procured for him, the possibility of sating his budding carnal urges, and her unabashed promise of using him as her personal cum-dumpster, his impulses seized the wheel. Nodding, taking care not to meet her gaze, he walked over, retrieved the package, and saw himself into the restroom.

Locking himself in the bathroom and giving himself some modicum of privacy, he pressed his back against the door and peeked into the bag. The first thing to strike his eye was a box of hygiene products, which helped explain what Vinyl had meant when she’d mentioned cleaning all of himself; neatly folded beneath the cleaning supplies, he discovered his mandated attire.

A very small tube top, pair of leggings, and an exceedingly short, pleated skirt awaited him. All the garments matched, being a vibrant pink, but that wasn’t the biggest issue - there wasn’t a single article of underwear to be seen. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find a pair of sheer panties or a lacy thong, but it appeared as though his host expected him to go without knickers.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t immeasurably excited - not just because Vinyl expected him to dress up like a mare, but because he knew full well what it meant. Without a doubt, the well-hung dickmare had every intention of amusing herself with him, and the thought drove him wild. The realization eclipsed his fears and inexperience, stoking the lustful inferno blazing within him.

Though it was a bit awkward, he managed to thoroughly wash himself - all of himself - in less than half an hour. It felt a bit odd, getting himself prepped for the awaiting dickmare, but he managed the task without too much trouble. After he’d toweled himself off and donned the slatternly apparel, he appraised himself in the mirror.

Were it not for the shameless erection peeking out from under his skirt, he could have been mistaken for a mare - albeit a decidedly flat chested one. The skin-tight top clung to his torso, showing off his perky nipples, while the leggings pinched into the supple flesh of his upper thighs. He felt a bit silly wearing such a getup, but there was a certain thrill in the taboo of it all.

“The fuck are you even doing in there?” Vinyl blared, causing him to start. “Did you fall in the shitter or something?”

Closing his eyes and slowly exhaling, doing his level best to relax, he turned towards the door. He’d gone this far, having put on the slutty outfit and prepared with the cleaning supplies he’d been given, so there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Moving to the door, leaving his garments in a pile in the corner, he timidly peeked out into the bedroom.

Wherever Vinyl was, she wasn’t in her seat. Taking a step out of the restroom and into the tiny foyer, Citi slowly pressed onward. He didn’t think she would leave, especially since she was the one who’d asked him to change, although he had taken a little while to get ready. As the bed, and the figure atop it, came into view, he slowed.

Laying on her back, naked from the waist down, the DJ lounged and watched the television. He couldn’t say he was surprised that she’d ditched her underwear, although the unfettered view of her equipment was just as awe inspiring as ever. Noticing his approach, she waved him over and nodded down at her package.

“And here I thought you were taking a nap in there,” she grumbled, eyeing him from top to bottom. “Oh yeah, pink definitely suits you better than the shitty t-shirt and shorts you wore.”

“I - um…” he falteringly griped, pulling his skirt down in an impossible attempt to cover his boner. “I’m surprised you didn’t give me anything to wear under this…”

“I like my bitches easy-access - besides, it’s not like you’ll have to worry about touching that pathetic little prick,” she clucked. “Now get over here and get to work. I’m sitting on nearly twelve hours worth of premium quality foal-batter for you,” she added, reaching down and obscenely fondling her prodigious balls.

Hungrily licking his lips, unable to look away from the cantaloupe sized nuts between her thighs, he crept over to the bed. He’d learned full well just how productive the dickmare could be, but it was still surprising to hear she was in need of relief; after the load she’d force-fed him the night prior, he would have thought she’d be running on empty for at least a day. Crawling onto the mattress, while she courteously spread her legs for him, he inched towards her groin.

As he buried his snout in her weighty balls, she quietly groaned above him. “You can play with them for now. I don’t mind having my nuts played with, but I gotta train you how to service this dick,” she grumbled, smacking his face with her tool.

Eager to please, thankful that she would allow him to worship her testes, he kissed and huffed the twin orbs. Gently pawing at her, flooding the sinuses with her musk, shivers of excitement ran up his spine. How anyone couldn’t bend a knee and praise her heavenly body was beyond him, making him all the more appreciative that she’d chosen him to be an outlet for her sexual frustrations. Gradually working his way upwards, he rubbed his muzzle against the fragrant, sweaty folds of her sheath.

“There ya go,” she purred, affectionately running her fingers through his hair, “there’s a good mare.”

Citi’s heart skipped a beat, hearing the demeaning and emasculating word. Not but two days ago, had someone told him he’d be turned on by such an insult, he would have laughed; now, with his tongue running over the biggest dick he’d ever seen, he couldn’t help but be turned on by the jab. Coating his taste buds with the salty, somewhat bitter flavors of her package, realizing she hadn’t showered since their last meeting, he lazily worked his way up her hardening shaft.

“That’s right, get her nice and lubed up - you’re going to need it,” Vinyl darkly snickered, watching the crossdressing stallion reach the tip of her length.

“You...you mean…” Citi stammered, both elated and terrified with the implications of her statement.

“Damn right I am! I’m gonna breed that tight little cunt you have, until you’re squealing like a filly on prom night,” she laughed, playfully bucking her hips to accentuate the point.

Though some part of him hated to pump the brakes, the logical part of his mind screamed at him to speak up. Closing his eyes and scrunching his snout, he turned his head. “I’ve never…” he couldn’t finish, too embarrassed to admit that he was completely inexperienced with any sort of anal experience.

“You’re shitting me, right?” she scoffed, causing him to shake his head. “For fuck’s sake, I have to do everything myself,” she blared, pointing to a nearby suitcase. “There’s a bottle of lube in there with a blue label. Go get it, slick me up, then fuck yourself on me,” she commanded, her harsh tone removing any doubt about how serious she was.

As he sprung from the mattress and scampered over to her luggage, Citi knew better than to question her. He wouldn’t be too shocked if she’d fuck him with or without the lube, so he was actually grateful that she was willing to briefly pause for him. Finding the bottle, he squirted a generous portion into his palm and smeared it into the cleft of his ass.

“Well,” she grunted, pinching the bridge of her snout, “if nothing else, at least I’ll make sure you’re trained right. Just don’t be pissed if regular stallions won’t ever be able to satisfy you, after I’ve broken you in.” Holding the base of her tool, while the femcolt slathered the gooey gel over her cock, she grinned down at him. “Before you know it, you’ll be begging to ride my bitch-breaker!”

Citi dumbly nodded, only then realizing how insane he must have been. He couldn’t even wrap his fingers all the way around her cock, yet she expected him to fuck himself on the monumental pillar of mare-meat. Besides the jaw dropping girth, she was longer than his forearm - still, as terrifyingly endowed as she was, he’d never been more worked up before. As he finished coating her length in the slick substance, he discarded the bottle and started to move.

Crawling on his hands and knees, he swung one leg over her abdomen. Difference in their endowment aside, she was absolutely massive. His head barely reached her tits, while his rump hovered over the towering stallionhood she sported. He swallowed hard, feeling the sublime warmth of her tool come to rest between his buns; the heat and weight of her cock was staggering, feeling even more imposing in the cleft of his ass than it had in his hands, yet he wanted - no, needed to feel it inside himself.

Rocking back, trying and failing to bring the tip to his pucker, he reluctantly looked to her face. “Would you…?” he let the question hang, hoping she’d at least lend him a hand.

Rolling her eyes, she brought the head of her shaft to his winking backdoor. “You’re really gonna need to figure all this shit out,” she growled, clearly displeased that she was having to exert more effort. “Then again, I guess it can’t be HELPED!”

The final word was punctuated by a titanic thrust, forcing what felt like an arm’s worth of dick into his virgin hole. His jaw hung open in a silent scream, his eyes felt like they were bugging out of his head, and his heart nearly stopped, as his body struggled to cope with the gargantuan intrusion. Without any warm up whatsoever, being about as subtle as an extinction level meteor impact, she’d simply rammed her cock into him.

“You’ll get used to it,” she hummed, gently patting his cheek. “I’m gonna give you thirty seconds to start moving; if you don’t get going by then, I’ll have to take charge…”

The ominous promise was enough to bring Citi some focus. If she was even half as rough with his tush as she’d been with his throat, he probably wouldn’t be sitting right for a week or more. Clamping his eyes shut, taking long, steady breaths, he did everything he could to relax. The word discomfort would have been an understatement, yet he’d take that over the behemoth dickmare’s doubtlessly ruthless plowing. As steadily as he could, he rocked forward and freed a  bit of her length.

Mercifully, after the first, dreaded thrust, Vinyl seemed content to lay there and watch him. Cracking one eye open, peeking down at her, he was met with her wolfish smile. As he’d suspected, for some sadistic reason, she was enjoying watching him struggle. Gritting his teeth, doing his damnedest not to clench, he bore down on her and incrementally impaled himself.

“Here,” Vinyl giggled, pulling his top up and over his chest, “let me help.”

It was all Citi could do to stifle a whimper, as her fingers played over his nipples. It wasn’t like he played with his chest much, but he could swear the little buds of rosy flesh were more sensitive than normal. Shuddering, yet continuing to slip her deeper, he ground her stallionhood into himself. The pleasure she afforded, twisting and tugging on his teats, actually did help to an extent, although he couldn’t say if it was because of the physical bliss or the masochistic joy of being objectified.

The sensation of being filled with something so massive was mind boggling. Resting on his knees, carefully easing himself back, he could swear he felt her rearranging his insides. The pressure within him was indescribable, creeping deeper into his torso, as he stuffed more of her into his painfully stretched ass. Driven by his unquestionable desire to satisfy her, amazed that he’d been able to manage as much marecock as he had, he only slowed when her thick medial ring bumped against his entrance.

Setting his jaw, he obstinately wiggled his tush from side to side. For all intents and purposes, it felt like a literal roadblock was jammed against his ass. No matter how hard he tried, shrugging off his aching, stuffed pucker, he couldn’t seem to fit the final third of her inside himself. His fruitless struggle only came to an eventual end when a pair of hands came to rest on his hips.

“I gotta say,” she murmured, patting him fondly, “I’m pretty impressed, but you’re not quite there yet.”

“I’m - Mmmph - trying,” he grunted, futilely bouncing on her stallionhood.

“I’m gonna give you until the count of ten to get it in; if you haven’t done it by then, well…” she trailed off, tightening her grip on him.

Citi swallowed hard, knowing what she meant. If he couldn’t manage to fully hilt her, he had little doubt that she’d be more than happy to do the job for him. She was easily big and strong enough to skewer him with ease, and had likely done so to any number of partners in the past, so it wasn’t just some idle threat. Exhaling through pursed lips, he screwed his eyes closed and prayed.

“One...Two...Three…” she quietly counted off, while he desperately tried to wriggle himself over the girthy band of flesh.

Realizing he was running out of time, Citi began to panic. Her initial plunge had been devastating, nearly causing him to blackout, so he couldn’t fathom how merciless she’d be if he failed her a second time. Placing his hands on his thighs, literally shoving himself downward, he ground his teeth together. Finally, just before she got to Nine, something gave.

In one smooth, albeit jarring motion, he forced her into himself. The trunk-like base of her tool bludgeoned its way into him, with the obscenely thick trunk absolutely crushing his prostate. Despite himself, he gasped and fell still. Peering down his chest, noticing a sizable bulge resting just below his rib cage, his mind reeled.

“Well looky there,” she mused, freeing one hand to caress the imprint of her dick in his gut, “you did it! I gotta say, there aren’t many who can do that on their first try - then again, I did say there was something special about you. Now then, since you managed to make it this far, how about you rut yourself on me like a good little slut.” Extending her arms, apparently happy with his determination, she rested her head on her hands.

Impossibly, having heard the order, Citi started to move. Seated on her lap, with his knees to either side of her hips, he would have never thought he’d be the one riding somebody else - still, the limb-sized stallionhood remolding his innards spoke to the contrary. She’d told him to fuck himself on her, so that’s exactly what he did; lifting his waist, unsheathing himself from the base of her tool, he slammed himself back downwards.

Up, down, up, down, his body dutifully moved like a machine. Somehow, though his mind grappled with the concept of being a living, breathing sex-toy, he’d obeyed her nonetheless; it was almost like this was where he belonged - what he was meant to be doing. Though the entire process was arduous, bordering on the herculean, yet he eventually found a steady rhythm. 

While he was only vaguely aware of what he was doing, the sensation of fucking himself on someone so absurdly endowed was incomprehensible. The face-fucking Vinyl had previously given him paled in comparison to having her in his backside; to say it was intense would be putting it mildly, yet he somehow managed to move faster and faster with each passing minute.

Slowly but surely, the pain and discomfort shifted into a blinding pleasure like he had never known. Glimmering strands of pre-cum crept down his unmolested shaft, drooling to the dickmare’s sculpted abs, as his prostate was utterly pummeled by his mate. Knowing he’d done what she asked, having fit her entirety within his once virgin confines, brought a joy which surpassed anything his dick had ever given him.

He couldn’t say how long he’d gone at it, needily bouncing on her, before she slapped his rear; the jolt to his system brought with it a touch of clarity, causing him to peer down at her. As happy as he had been with himself, she didn’t seem to mirror the sentiment. Unsure of whether he should continue or stop, he awaited her command.

“As much fun as you seem to be having, I’m gonna have to put an end to it. At the rate you’re going, I’m gonna fall asleep before I blow a load,” she glibly remarked, placing her hands on his hips. “Just try not to pass out on me.”

As Citi opened his mouth to ask what she’d meant, she started fucking. Leveling her tremendous strength against him, his body was driven into the air with each thrust. His pitiful efforts had been mere child’s play, contrasted against the dickmare’s rut-lust. His eyes rolled wildly, his body was rocked with every plunge, and his pathetic stallionhood bounced and flopped around uselessly while she used him.

His climax hit him out of the blue, without any buildup whatsoever, upon a particularly violent thrust from his Mistress. Raw, unrefined rapture shot through his body, as his p-spot was devastated by the behemoth beneath him. His jaw hung open, with saliva dangling from his chin, while his vision tunneled.

“That’s right,” she grunted, bracing her legs and somehow plowing him even harder than ever, “moan for me.”

Whether or not he’d been moaning all along, Citi couldn’t say, but he obliged her salacious request. Giving voice to the astounding sensations she afforded, he rolled his head back and throatily groaned. Any shame or reluctance to mewl aloud was gone, crumbling to nothing as he became her whore.

His reality, his very existence was taken from him, replaced by the sinful revelation of being her plaything. Everything sounded muffled, his vision went in and out of focus, and his heart pounded in his chest, as his body was forced closer to another orgasm - no refractory period, no gradual escalation, simply skyrocketing towards a second detonation of ecstasy.

Subconsciously, his hand strayed towards his groin - that was until something grabbed his wrist. Peering down, past the massive bulge appearing and disappearing within his belly, he spied her gripping his arm. As he dreamily looked at her face, wondering if something was wrong, she met his eye with a wicked stare.

Only slowing in the slightest degree, Vinyl guided his hand to his chest. “If you have to play with something, play with your tits…”

He nodded, tugging at his top to reveal his nipples. Tweaking and twisting one sensitive bud of flesh, the additional sensory input magnified his rapture to unimaginable heights. The notion of stroking himself was quickly lost, disappearing into the ether, as he acquiesced to the amazoness’ will.

On and on she went, literally fucking the cum out of him for what felt like hours. He couldn’t say how many times he’d peaked, although it reached a point where all he could manage were dry orgasms. Time gradually lost meaning, while he drifted in and out of consciousness, until a singular pressure within him stirred his thoughts. Glancing at his stomach, seeing the imprint of her flare growing to nearly double its original size, some part of him realized she had reached her limit.

As badly as he tried to beg her, to beseech her for her seed, all he could manage was to pant and needily whine; fortunately for him, the dickmare needed no coaxing on the matter. Wrapping one arm around his back, she pulled him forward. It was a bit jarring, especially considering she hadn’t stopped jackhammering his ass, but she wasn’t nearly finished; leaning in, she savagely clamped her jaws on his neck and came.

The influx of pain and foal-batter utterly broke him. The heat of so much cum pumping into him, filling his insides to a point of near bursting, was as mind boggling as it was obscene. Nearly convulsing, wracked with sensations that felt too impossible to describe, he suffered through something more than a climax. He simply wasn’t meant to be used in such a depraved way, so his body did the only thing it could to cope; slipping into a maddening sea of ecstasy, he passed out.

...

“Hey…” a voice called, a split second before something lightly slapped his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

Wearily lifting his head, uncertain if he was dreaming or not, Citi peeked out and spotted his Mistress above him. It took him a second to comprehend that he was no longer on her, yet that wasn’t the only thing which was different. Laying on his back, peering up at her face, he absently beamed.

“There’s that cum-drunk smile,” she giggled, smirking to herself. “Since you agreed to my offer, even if you decided to give yourself a nap, I took the liberty of putting your new equipment on.”

“Equipment?” he croaked, tilting his head. Seeing her shift, feeling her flick something on his groin, he went rigid.

Struggling to push himself up, attempting to see what was on his crotch, his view was impeded by his positively gravid-looking stomach. Filled with what had to be liters of spunk, his belly left him looking heavily pregnant. Unfortunately, the sight of his bloated gut made it next to impossible to spot what was fastened to him.

“It’s your cage,” she tutted, addressing his concern. “Mare’s don’t have a dick, right?” she asked, prompting him to nod. “Then there you go. Don’t worry, I’ll let you take it off to shower, but you’re not going to be using your clit for anything in the near future, if ever again…”

As jarring as it was, still finding it difficult to think, the notion of having himself locked in chastity didn’t seem that bad. Seeing as how she’d literally plowed the cum out of him, giving him multiple climaxes that were stronger than any he’d ever had, his lust-addled mind didn’t find it as much of a concern. As he forced himself up, into some approximation of a seated position, she extended her arm.

“Here,” she grunted, shaking something in his face, “put this on.”

Peeking down at the item, his eyes widened. In her palm rested a thick band of pink leather, embellished with large golden letters that spelled out BITCH. Unsteadily taking the collar and slipping it around his neck, he saw no reason to question her. As far as he was concerned, she owned him now...
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Closing his eyes and rolling his head back, under the steady stream of warm water, Citi rinsed the soap from his hair and face. It was an odd time for him to shower, being relatively early in the afternoon - then again, it had become part of his new normal. His daily routine had been completely upended, ever since he’d taken Vinyl up on her offer and joined her on her tour.

The last month had been absolutely bananas. Having practically given himself to the well-hung DJ, she’d exerted control over almost every facet of his life. Where and when he slept, what he ate, how he dressed, who he was allowed to talk to - honestly, it was all pretty jarring, but he’d slowly adapted to it all. It wasn’t like she was completely heartless or anything - after all, she had allowed him to bring his cat and a few belongings along with them.

Most of his days started the same; at some point or another, typically after the sun had risen, he’d wake up to the titanic dickmare grinding her package on his face or, on the rare occasions when he got up before her, he’d give her a good morning blowjob. Regardless of who woke who, the result was always the same - Vinyl would pump a hot, rich meal down his throat.

Once he’d had his breakfast, he’d ask what his Mistress wanted him to wear. More often than not, she’d choose something remarkably skimpy or whorish. Many, many days he’d end up traipsing about the RV in a miniskirt, fishnets, and a skin tight top - not that he minded, since he rarely left the vehicle much. It wasn’t that he couldn’t leave, he was just content to lounge around and relax - that was after he was finished with his chores.

One of the most beneficial routines Vinyl had instituted for him was his daily exercise. He typically did cardio and calisthenics for roughly an hour every day, spending most of his time on a stationary bike or doing squats, although he also had a few free weights at his disposal. Working out definitely hadn’t been the easiest thing to get used to, since he’d never been all that active, but the discomfort of getting sore and sweaty was definitely worth the improvement to his health.

Another big part of his duties consisted of keeping the vehicle clean, ensuring the fridge and cabinets were stocked with snacks, exercising, and ordering or preparing meals for the two of them. Though the camper wasn’t quite as big as a house, it had all the amenities of a small apartment - as such, it had a decent kitchenette. Besides the routine housework, for lack of a better word, his top priority was to serve his Mistress.

Whenever Vinyl was around, he tended to her on hand and foot - not just because he was smitten with her, but because he’d come to know his place. If she unzipped her pants or pointed to her crotch, he dropped to his knees; when she told him to present, he bent over and prized his buns apart. He lived to please her in any possible way, because she was the only thing that could bring him pleasure.

She’d made good on his promise, keeping his stallionhood trapped within a tiny, restrictive cage almost constantly. The only time he was allowed out of the chastity was for his morning showers, while she was present, but he was locked up again before he could even dry off. Besides the contraption forcing him to use the bathroom like a girl, sitting on the toilet, it fully denied him any use of his equipment.

Originally, upon moving into her RV, he didn’t think the cage would be all that difficult to deal with, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Being around Vinyl every morning and afternoon was excruciatingly arousing; she would mercilessly tease him, emasculate him, and try to get him worked up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get himself off - at least that’s what he thought, until she’d given him a small gift. Roughly a week after he’d joined her, waking up and finding the RV vacant, he’d discovered a parcel for him in the kitchen. Atop the box had been a little note, which immediately piqued his curiosity.

Babe, sorry I’m out so much. Not that you’d understand it, but I got a lot of shit keeping me busy. It may sound silly, but I almost feel bad for you. Since I’m usually at practice or side events most days, I figure you could keep yourself busy with this. Don’t have too much fun with it.

V

The package contained a modestly sized dildo, roughly half the endowment of his Mistress, and a pair of breast pumps. It was obvious enough what he was supposed to use the dong for, but it took him a moment to figure out why she’d given him the other items. Though he’d been a bit confused, but thankful nonetheless, he’d started using his gifts almost immediately.

Stepping out of the shower, he reached for a towel and started drying off. As he gazed at his reflection, eyeing himself up and down, his stallionhood struggled against its cage. Even though he’d only been traveling with his Mistress for a relatively short time, his body changed rather dramatically - sure, some of the alterations were relatively subtle, but he was keenly aware of each and every one. 

For starters, he’d put on a fair bit of weight, namely around his hips, thighs, rear, and chest, but that was only the start of it. Vinyl had insisted he grow out his mane and tail, going so far as to have his hair bleached and dyed with streaks of pink. Besides the clearly visible differences, there were several subtle, less obvious developments.

Though he’d never had well defined pecs, his torso had taken the appearance of a somewhat flat-chested mare. He couldn’t exactly explain why it looked like he was starting to sprout bosoms, but they’d developed all the same. It may have been his imagination, but he could swear his nipples and areola had grown a bit as well. The little buds of flesh seemed rosier and larger, not to mention extraordinarily sensitive.

He felt sure that the breast pumps Vinyl had given him played some part of his slow transformation, but there had to be something more to it. It was impossible for his Mistress to be dosing him with anything, since he either ordered or made most of their meals, so there had to be some other factor at play; it wasn’t that important, in the grand scheme of things, because he had other things to occupy himself with.

Truth be told, he’d been overjoyed when Vinyl had seen fit to give him a dildo. The sculpted dong may not have been nearly as big as her cock, but it was his best and only option to relieve his maddening sexual tension. With his stallionhood all but neutralized, trapped within its tiny steel prison, the only way he was able to get off was through prostate stimulation. Whether or not his Mistress ended up literally fucking the cum out of him became less of a concern, since he could screw himself on his new favorite toy.

Grinning to himself, having dried off, he traipsed into the living room and towards the couch. His trusty dong and a bottle of lube rested on the coffee table, right where he’d left them. With his cleaning and exercising for the morning done, and nothing better to do, he thought that a small reward for his hard work was due. Laying the towel over the sofa’s cushions, making any potential messes easier to clean up, he eased himself down.

He really wasn’t sure where Vinyl was most days, but he was too timid to ask. Occasionally she’d mention attending an event, visiting a friend, or simply going out to get laid, but that was a rarity. All he knew was that she’d leave for hours at a time, before coming home and expecting to find a spotless RV and an eager bitch waiting for her. 

Despite her openly bragging about knocking up or plowing groupies and fans, her sexual appetite was insatiable. He’d woken up to having his face or ass fucked more times than he could count, he’d grown accustomed to the sensation of cum leaking out of his ass, and there was rarely a day that went by where his holes weren’t violated in some form of fashion. As depraved and ravenous as his Mistress was, he’d grown to love serving her.

Easing himself down, with his head resting on one arm of the sofa, he reached over and grabbed the nearby dildo and lube. There was no way in Tartarus that some paltry sex-toy could ever match the intensity of a colossal dickmare in rut-lust, but it was the only option he had. Lifting one leg, resting his ankle on the back of the couch, he slathered the silicone stallionhood with the slick lotion and brought it to his rear.

With the barest bit of effort, the toy slipped into his pucker. He really couldn’t say if it was sad or funny - months ago, before he’d ever met his idol, he would have laughed if someone told him he’d be screwing himself with a dildo; now everything was different. Expertly angling the molded shaft, fixating on his p-spot, he gnawed his lip. While it wasn’t nearly as amazing as getting plowed by the genuine article, he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

His free hand wandered to his chest, softly squeezing and fondling one soft breast. It really wasn’t much of a bosom, barely enough to cup in his palm, but it was leagues bigger than it used to be. As his fingers wandered to his nipple, gently grazing the perky bud, he stifled a groan. His teats were definitely more sensitive than they’d been before and, much to his shame, he’d grown to love having them played with, kissed, suckled, or bitten.

Closing his eyes and raising his waist, imagining some lusty young stallion or dickmare taking advantage of him, his chaste stallionhood drooled pre-cum over his coin purse. Savagely twisting one nipple, pulling on his breast, he did what he could to up the intensity. As pathetic and wanton as it sounded, he wished Vinyl would have given him a bigger toy - that or possibly some sort of sex machine. Besides being comparatively small, the stupid dildo didn’t even have a suction cup or proper base - still, he did the best he could with what he had.

He was so caught up in getting off, attempting to scratch his sexual itch the only way he could, that he failed to hear the keys in the door until it was too late. A slam and a series of footfalls rocked him from his depraved stupor, causing him to roll from the sofa. He’d never had anyone walk in on him screwing himself before, let alone Vinyl, and he was not about to find out if his Mistress would react to such an indecent sight.

Dashing towards the bedroom, being sure to grab the towel, toy, and lube, he closed the door and stashed the lewd items. The only person with keys to the tour bus was Vinyl, which meant two things; for starters, he’d need to get out there to tend to her fast - secondly, and more prudently, he’d prefer she didn’t know he’d been playing with himself. It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of what he did with his gift, but some shred of his dignity still remained.

“Coming,” he bleated, praying she wouldn’t barge in on him.

Though he couldn’t be sure, he could swear his voice had taken a slightly higher pitch since shaking up with his Mistress. Hastily concealing the items within his underwear drawer, he snatched up an electric blue skirt, as well as matching leggings, top, and thong. It didn’t take him long to get dressed, slipping into the outfit in a flash, before he rushed back out to greet her.

As he burst through the door, spotting her trotting away and to the sofa, he froze. She had a cold beer in her hand, meaning he’d already fucked up. Even if he knew she was coming back from a meal or a party, it was part of his duties to offer her a drink or something to eat. Forcing a smile, hoping to make amends, he sauntered over to her.

Vinyl flopped onto the couch, throwing one arm over its back, and disinterestedly watched him approach. “Where are the heels?” she flatly asked, cracking her can open and taking a sip.

Citi flinched, stopping dead in his tracks. He was supposed to be practicing with a pair of stilettos she’d gotten for him. The footwear made it difficult to do much of anything, causing him to unsteadily wobble around in them, which was precisely why she’d instructed him to wear them at all times. Hanging his head, with his shoulders sagging, he turned away.

“I didn’t say you could leave, did I?” she growled, leaving him frozen in place. “If you want to make up for your fuckups, come over here and get to work.

With the chance for redemption still within his grasp, he trotted over to his Mistress. As he drew nearer to her, passing through the tiny kitchen, she lazily spread her legs. They both knew what was expected of him, so there was no point in subtlety. Coming before her, stepping between her knees, he slowly sank into a deep squat.

His eyes wandered from her smugly grinning face, down her rack and abs, and to her groin. She’d likely just come from some social event, since she was adorned in a simple t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, but he had no way of knowing for sure. Gazing at the bulge at her groin, feeling himself starting to salivate, he lovingly ran one hand up her inner thigh.

“Rough day?” he softly inquired, unable to look away from her barely concealed package.

Vinyl shrugged and took another draught from her beer, before nonchalantly reaching forward, grabbing his head, and pulling his face into her crotch. “Eh - it wasn’t that bad. Had lunch with a friend of mine, got some lunch, ended up face-fucking some cute stallion in a bathroom,” she chuckled. Seeing the pain in his eyes, she rolled her head. “I didn’t say stop! Besides, it’s not like I don’t have enough foal-batter to share.”

While she did have a point, Citi couldn’t help from feeling the slightest bit hurt. He’d done everything she’d asked, going so far as to sell most of his belongings and quit his job, yet she would still go out and have the casual lay here or there. Though he tried not to let it get to him, he’d become just a bit covetous - wanting her all to himself. Slowly closing his eyes, attempting to clear his thoughts, he deeply inhaled through his nose.

As her rich, earthy scent flooded his sinuses, an all too familiar tingle of excitement shot through his spine. Besides having the body of a veritable amazonian goddess, her musk was downright ambrosial. He wouldn’t be surprised if the smell alone was enough to cause females to ovulate, causing his pucker to hungrily clench and wink in anticipation. Though he may not be an actual mare, his place was clearly being bred by such a glorious deity.

With well practiced, mechanical precision, he undid the button on her shorts, pulled at her fly, and gently slipped his hand within her trunks. Guided by feel alone, his fingers softly stroked her semi-flaccid length. Feeling her glorious tool, paired with virtually having his face pressed against her fragrant loins, reminded him of his role - that he was meant to serve her.

“There’s a good mare,” she hummed, as he fished her shaft free. “Such a devoted little thing you’ve become, and so quickly too!”

“Y...yesh,” he slurred, dragging his tongue over her sheath.

The salty, almost bitter flavor of her endowment was as amazing as ever. She’d been out all day and, of her own admission, gotten a bit of action earlier, leaving her equipment sweaty and unwashed. While it was faint, almost ephemeral, there was the barest hint of stale cum on her stallionhood; mopping her clean, slathering her member with saliva, he worked his way to the broad head of her cock.

The moment he reached the tip of her length, he wrapped his lips around her. As much as he would have liked to present himself, or possibly mount her, that simply wasn’t an option. He was there for her, expressly doing as she asked, and she almost always allowed him to open with oral. She’d said that being on his knees was a reminder of what he was, an outlet for her carnal wants, and that was where he belonged; as loathe as he was to admit it, she’d been absolutely correct.

Bobbing his head, steadily working her into his muzzle, one hand drifted to his chest. With his pitiful colthood locked away, useless and wholly neglected, his perky little tits served as one of the only ways he could heighten his pleasure. He could have fingered his greedy ass, but he abstained; when she decided to rearrange his insides, he wished to savor what little tautness his hole had while it was ruined.

Tightly gripping his skull, the mare forced her toy downward. “Fuck,” she growled, as her dick slipped into his throat, “you’re getting pretty good at this.”

He would have thanked her for the compliment, had his airway not been stuffed with cock. Gently choking himself with one hand, while twisting and teasing one nipple with the other, he skillfully plied his trade. Vinyl said he was a natural and, coming from a she-stud of her caliber, he considered it high praise.

There were times when he still choked on her, usually when she was being particularly forceful, but those instances were becoming less and less frequent. He’d learned when to breathe, how to pull back just enough to get a sip of air, and his gullet had gradually acclimated to the routine abuse. The lack of oxygen was part of the excitement, spurring him to push his limits with her as often as possible. All told, her size, strength, and domineering will never failed to excite him.

Without so much as touching his prick, his cage drooled pre-cum to the floor below. The last genuine erection he’d had was over a month ago, shortly before he’d agreed to accompany his Mistress, and he was starting to forget what it felt like to be hard. In lieu of getting a boner, his backdoor eagerly winked; as pitiful as it was, flying in the face of what a real stallion should be, it excited him all the same.

Dragging his lips over the colossal dickmare’s throbbing length, while his throat was thoroughly swabbed, he sensed her grip slacken. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes cracked open, and he peeked up at the woman; there’d been a time when he would have worried that he’d done something wrong, that she may have been cross with him for some unfathomable transgression, but no longer. As she released his head, allowing him full freedom of movement, she reclined and rested her arms across the back of the sofa.

“Quit looking and fuck yourself on it,” she growled, impatient and expectant.

And just like that, Citi bolted to his feet. Weeks prior, when she’d first invited him back to her hotel room, he’d bumbled his way through preparing for his first anal experience. Now, after serving her day in and day out, he was primed and ready for her stallionhood at any given time. He’d even developed a routine to keep himself ready for her, which included regular cleaning, stretching, and administration of lube to his backdoor, since his hole was used so often.

Stepping onto the couch, he turned away from her and swung one leg over her waist. It was a calculated decision, choosing to mount her in a reverse seated cowgirl, but she’d shown an affinity for his ass. As he knelt down, he reached back and clasped his soft, supple buns. His fingers sank into the twin mounds of flesh, leaving her shaft sandwiched in the cleft of his ass.

Besides his little A Cups, his tush had filled out considerably. The few articles of clothing he’d brought with him no longer fit properly, if he could get them on at all, making his new wardrobe not only more alluring but more practical as well. Releasing his rump, placing his hands on his knees, he rocked his hips forward and back.

Though it was a small tease, it elicited a frustrated or possibly excited grunt from his Mistress. He knew her well enough that some taunting wouldn’t get him in trouble, so long as he immediately followed through. Raising his waist, bringing the bloated tip to his pucker, he drew a breath, slowly exhaled, and began his descent.

His once virgin hole yielded with perilously little resistance, as the broad head of her cock popped into him. The sensation was as wondrous as ever, vastly better than the flimsy toy she’d gotten him, and it was the only thing that gave him true gratification. Gradually, savoring every inch of her mighty tool, he impaled himself. All but resting on her lap, feeling her girthy medial ring settle on his prostate, he halted.

“Well?” she barked, slapping his behind and causing him to yelp. “You gonna sit on it like the dumb bitch that you are or are you actually going to do something?”

Nodding eagerly, unwilling to disappoint her, he started bouncing. Relaxing on the plunges, while clamping around her length with his ascents, he milked her stallionhood like a needy harlot. Accommodating her sizable member was by no means what he’d call easy, although it had gotten less traumatic and more pleasurable as time had gone on. As long as she let him do the work, he didn’t have too much to worry about.

Periodically mixing his routine with a sensual gyration or subtle shift, his excitement grew. Being in control meant that he could decide on the pace, depth, and exact positioning, ensuring his p-spot was stimulated almost flawlessly. He did love when she took the wheel, brutally fucking him like some common whore, but that was a different experience entirely.

If and when Vinyl took charge, the game changed. She cared little about him getting off, viewing him as little more than a walking fuck-toy who’s only purpose was to satisfy her. Some part of him lamented being considered a sexual object, but a deeper, far primal portion of himself absolutely adored it. The differences in their size, strength, endowment, and downright will was obvious, cementing his subservience to her; it was only natural.

Slowly increasing his speed, sensing himself growing closer to the limit, his thighs began to tremble. One definite benefit of being her bottom bitch was the revelation that, like an actual mare, he could have multiple orgasms; it wasn’t uncommon for him to cum again and again, until his tiny nuts were depleted and he was blowing dry loads. Panting over her, gnawing his lip, he neared the threshold - that was until a pair of hands crossed under his arms and to his chest.

“Looks like someone’s really enjoying themselves today,” Vinyl snickered, her fingers gliding towards his nipples.

“Y...yeah,” he croaked, only slowing slightly. Though she hadn’t asked him to stop, focusing on her, in case she gave him an order, was a priority.

“You know,” she sighed, tracing her digits around the twin buds of flesh, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in heat…”

At the mention of the word, Citi’s motions ground to a halt. She’d often tease or taunt him, telling him she was or would breed his ass, and he absolutely loved it. It was an insane notion, one which no rightful stallion would consider alluring, yet the thought of being knocked up by such a magnificent creature never failed to set his heart fluttering. Turning his head, glancing back at her, he met her eye.

“Is that what you want?” she whispered, as one hand shifted to the bulge in his abdomen. “Do you want me to pump a foal into you?”

“Y...yes,” he sputtered, unable to deny his depraved desires.

“I said,” she continued, languidly bucking her hips upward and driving the imprint of her cock into her palm, “do you want to be my little broodmare?”

Citi gulped, while his cage leaked pre-cum over his package and onto her massive balls. “Yes, Mistress.”

Vinyl shifted, bracing her legs and moving both hands to his budding breasts. Fiercely pinching his nipples, causing him to moan out in bliss, she darkly chuckled to herself. “If you keep up with me, I might give you what you really want - if not, you can lick my cum off the floor.”

With no further warning, she started fucking the femcolt on her lap. Every buck of her hips sent his entire body upward, nearly lifting him entirely off the couch, as her dominant streak took to the fore. Caught unawares, essentially plowed like a ragdoll, it took Citi a moment to reciprocate. Between the unimaginable bliss of being pounded, the honeyed promise of being bred, and the threat regarding his possible failure, his mind reeled; there was no way in Tartarus he’d disappoint her, not after everything she’d given to him and done for him, so he willed his body to comply.

Realistically speaking, there wasn’t all that much he could do, but that didn’t mean he was totally helpless. Placing his hands on his head, giving her a clear view of his back and jiggling rump, he lustily gazed back at her. Her hands groped and squeezed his little tits, her stallionhood molded his depths, and her nuts slapped against his inferior equipment. He was hers, in mind and body, so it was the least he could do to show his appreciation.

As his hole greedily constricted around her pistoning length, he rolled his head back and loudly moaned. He was still exceptionally close to the edge, but that was no longer important; the only thing that mattered was that his Mistress got off, preferably as deeply as possible, and that she was pleased with him. Laying his hands atop hers, ensuring she gripped his bosoms, he drew a breath.

“Harder!” he bleated, shamelessly rocking back to meet her thrusts, “Feel me, use me, fuck me, breed me! Claim me and ruin me for any other stallion or dickmare!”

Vinyl grunted and redoubled her efforts, railing him like an industrial jackhammer. The change of pace caught him by surprise, literally forcing him to climax on the spot. His back arched, his limbs shook, and his hole spasmed around her, as weak, watery seed dribbled out of his cage. As much as he would have loved to howl out, giving voice to his thanks, his higher functions briefly left him.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, while his mouth hung open and drooled over his chest. It was almost like a zen-like state; there he was, fulfilling his purpose, and the universe had rewarded him for it. If surrendering himself to such such exquisite creatures was to be his nirvana, he would gleefully embrace his role with open arms. Standing at the precipice, feeling as though he may lose himself, he was wrenched back to the present by a singular, unmistakable sensation - the feeling of her flaring within him.

One hand shot to his gut, squeezing his belly below the expanding crown of her cock. Even on the cusp of losing himself, the deepest parts of his being knew what was expected of him. Effectively jacking her off through the flesh of his stomach, he reclined on her and brought his muzzle to her ear. It was a brazen move, doing something so impudent, yet he felt emboldened by her impending climax.

“Knock me up,” he mewled into her ear.

He couldn’t say if it was good timing or dumb luck on his behalf, but his wish was granted at that very moment. Thick, hot, creamy foal-batter surged through her wildly throbbing shaft, rushing into his depths. Her output, despite having orgasmed at least once earlier that day, was jaw dropping. His guts churned, expanding and swelling with the tsunami of her cum, as he was stricken with a second climax of his own. It was all he could do to grit his teeth and pray he didn’t pass out, riding out the insane maelstrom of satiating someone so much greater than himself.

As the flow of her seed tapered off, leaving him dipping in and out of consciousness, he wearily peered down at himself. Between the tiny mounds of tit-flesh, his stomach appeared absolutely obscene. Though he didn’t have a mirror handy, he had little doubt that he could pass for being several months pregnant - a fact that his she-stud was all too quick to point out.

“You like it, don’t you?” she purred, gently rubbing his belly. “If anyone saw your dumb ass like this, they’d be asking who the father was.”

The thought of being knocked up by her was, in a perverse sense, exceptionally romantic. Had he a womb, he would have sired foal after foal for her, birthing one before quickly being inseminated with the next. Contentedly wiggling his rump on her, clamping his stuffed hole, he lovingly kissed her neck and cheek. She really was a wonderful mare, and she’d shown him what true happiness was.

Looking around, completely ignoring his affection, she scrunched her nose. “Where’s that damn plug?”

“The glass one?” he responded, cocking his head to the side.

“Wait - there it is,” Vinyl remarked. Wholly uncaring for the impaled femcolt on her lap, she leaned over, reached behind a lamp, and wrapped her fingers around the girthy, crystalline plug. “Here,” she instructed, handing him the item. “Unless you want it going in dry, lube it up.”

Citi didn’t question her, obediently licking and slobbering over the sizable toy. She often liked to keep him plugged, especially if he had a heaping helping of her spunk sloshing around within him, while they lounged about the RV; traipsing about with the toy corking his ass, trapping her jizz within him, had been embarrassing at first, although he’d come to savor it. Walking around, while his innards marinated in her essence, was almost as hot as having her blow a load down his throat - almost.

Handing her the slickened item, knowing the routine all too well, he grabbed his behind and shakily pushed himself up. The trick to the maneuver was to clench just as her stallionhood pulled clear of his pucker, assuring he didn’t waste any of the precious, creamy cargo. As he gradually unsheathed himself from her slightly softened shaft, he came to the fat tip of her cock.

Feeling the cold plug resting against his ass, just above his entrance, he hauled himself off his mate. In the blink of an eye, perhaps a bit more forcefully than was required, Vinyl crammed the giant plug into his battered hole. He shuddered, his prick dripping yet more of his worthless pre and spunk to the floor, as the toy settled into place.

“Well,” Vinyl began, getting to her feet and stretching beside him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. You want a bite to eat?”

“Uh-” Citi blurted, unsure of what to say. He was pretty hungry, but it was very, very odd for her to ask him if he wanted to eat. Slowly nodding up at her, he noticed all too late the nefarious grin creeping across her muzzle.

“Perfect! You go get dressed, then we can go out. I’m thinking that fancy pizza place that’s in town,” Vinyl remarked, trotting towards the bedroom.

Instinctively following after her, the cum-bloated stallion’s thoughts raced. He barely had any clothes that fit him normally, let alone when he had the body of an expectant mother. At best, he’d look like a positively gravid whore, so there was no way he’d be allowed into some upscale eatery! Moving to her side, with his anxiety keying up, he pawed at her arm.

“What - uh - what do you want me to wear?” he softly asked. It was a long shot, but she may have suggested they go out before realizing how off he would look.

“You know that really small tube top - the pink one - wear that,” she remarked, stripping down and throwing her dirty clothes into a nearby hamper. “Oh! And that super skimpy micro-skirt! You’ll look just perfect!”

A cold knot formed in Citi’s stomach, realizing the outfit she’d meant. It wasn’t just that she intended to take him to a fancy restaurant, while in drag and appearing heavily pregnant, that set his nerves on edge - no, it was the fact that the thought excited him. Though people may not know who he was, or if he was a he at all, they’d have no doubt as to whom had bred him. Shambling after her, plastering himself to her side, he moved into the bathroom with his Mistress. If nothing else, something told him he was going to have a very interesting outing.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Babe, who’s at the door?” Vinyl called out, causing the exceptionally effeminate mare at the entryway to start.

Glancing over her shoulder, hastily signing the delivery stallion’s receipt, Citi gulped. “It’s just the mail!”

Virtually snatching the small box from the courier’s grasp, slamming the door closed without so much as a thank you, he rushed through the foyer and towards his room. He’d been waiting days for the package to arrive, desperate to remedy his growing problem - or rather his shrinking problem. Dashing through the home, navigating the corridors with practiced precision, he scampered into his chamber and disrobed.

While many ponies would have considered the last two months a taste of paradise, it had been almost hellish for him. After Vinyl’s tour had concluded, with nearly half a year before her next bout of traveling was set to transpire, they’d returned to her estate for some much needed rest and relaxation. It wasn’t the change in scenery which had been so terrible, nor the considerable allowance she’d been giving him - no, the problem was she’d been treating him far, far too well.

Being on the road with her had been amazing, there was no other way to put it. His tall, strong, big-dicked Mistress had used him wherever and whenever she pleased, effectively making him into a walking, talking, begging cock sleeve. Though it had taken some getting used to, every part of him had adapted to the lecherous role he’d found himself in.

He woke her up with blowjobs, routinely trained his ass, and always kept his puny cock locked away within a snug little cage. Many stallions would have scoffed or been downright disgusted by such a scandalous and demeaning development, but not him - not Citi. He’d embraced his depraved duties with open arms, a move which bore unforeseen consequences.

His mind wasn’t the only thing to become steadily twisted. Over his time with her, for nearly half a year, his body had gone through a steady metamorphosis. He’d expected his throat and his ass to become more accommodating, acclimating to the regular abuse, but he couldn’t have fathomed the rest of him would change. By the time they’d returned to Vinyl’s chateau, he was almost unrecognizable from a year before.

Before he’d begun on his bizarre adventure, he’d been a relatively average looking stallion. Not overly tall, nor overly developed, his aesthetic could easily fit in with a crowd or while out and about. Now, after months of being subjected to his Mistress’ harsh and borderline sadistic affection, he’d changed completely.

Instead of pecs on his chest, he’d developed a pair of D cupped breasts which, as he’d been finding out, had shown no sign of slowing in growth. Considerable bosom aside, his rump and thighs had also expanded considerably - heck, he’d even gotten the tiniest bit of a belly. Nearly all of his once masculine features had softened, from top to bottom, though he had no way of knowing if or when the alterations would end. While some part of him had become markedly larger, other portions of himself had diminished considerably.

He’d initially thought that being held in chastity would be harmless, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Even when out of its constricting confines, his stallionhood had withered to a small, limp, and exceptionally useless vestige of what it once was. All told, between his figure, his long, luxurious mane, and his petite package, he was routinely mistaken for a bombshell of a mare.

All in all, he positively adored his life and everything he’d become - at least, until recently. Once he and his Mistress had finished their tour, everything changed. Vinyl began treating him with respect, had given him the key to his chastity, and allowed him to stay in the guest room, but that wasn’t the worst part - the worst part is that the she-stud had effectively stopped making use of his licentious services.

In short, Vinyl had stopped treating him like a live-in fuck-toy and started treating him like a honest to goodness marefriend. She brought him out to dinners, bought him fancy dresses, and even paid for lavish beauty treatments and pedicures - still, those were the last things he wanted. The thing he wanted most, above anything else, was to be subjected to the divine, carnal fury he knew she could deliver.

“Everything alright in there?” Vinyl shouted, doubtlessly curious about his odd behavior.

“J...just gonna take a nap. I didn’t sleep well last night,” Citi responded, picking at the tape on the box.

While he hadn’t expected his order to arrive so quickly, he wasn’t about to complain. His chastity cage, which he’d voluntarily kept himself in, had inexplicably lost its fit. The only reasonable explanation he could come to was that, for whatever reason, his equipment had continued to dwindle in size - as such, he’d ordered a new cage device for himself.

Strutting to the bed, seating himself on the edge of the mattress, he thrust his hand into the package to claim his newest investment. He was fortunate that he had the funds to buy it, as well as the periodic dildo to plow himself with, but one small concern remained - how well the new cage would fit. Leaning over, upending the box on his lap, he grabbed a key from his nightstand.

He almost never wore any undergarments, despite having a cornucopia of thongs and panties available, so he simply flipped his skirt and began fiddling with his oversized cage. Unlocking and removing the contraption, casting it aside, he swiftly installed the new device on his diminutive equipment. Significantly smaller than his older model, throttling his little coin purse and securing his tiny prick against his groin, he turned the key, set the lock, and shivered.

With his job complete, he got to his feet and sauntered over to his vanity. Even if Vinyl wasn’t fucking his brains out nearly as often as she used to, he’d taken to wearing makeup and dolling himself up regularly - after all, he was more of a mare than a stallion. Peering at his reflection, holding his skirt up, inspecting the gleaming chastity locked around his puny package, he smiled.

“Hey there, stud,” he purred, cocking his hips and fondling one tit, “you looking for a little action?”

Pursing his plump, luscious lips, shooting himself a wink, he slowly wheeled around and spread his cheeks. Though he was only teasing himself, imagining what Vinyl would do if he’d used the line on her, his pulse raced. It was becoming increasingly rare for her to breed him, regardless of what outfits he wore or what seductive measures he employed, but he hadn’t given up hope - that being said, he’d acquired several substitutes in her stead.

Resting beside the mirror, as long as his forearm and as thick as his wrist, stood a massive silicone dildo; supposedly cast from some porn star, the thing was almost as large as his Mistress’ endowment. Stepping forward, grabbing up the molded sex-toy and a bottle of lube, he strutted back to his bed. Though fucking himself could never compare to the real deal, it was better than nothing.

Casting himself onto the mattress, laying on his side, he cocked a leg. He’d long ago learned to be constantly prepared for any sort of action, systematically cleaning and lubricating himself throughout the day, so he was constantly ready to get his ass pounded. Hefting the dong in one hand, while drizzling a generous amount of lube over it, his pulse gradually increased.

As sad as it was to say, the sex-toy was one of his favorites and as of late his rear had gotten more use from it than his Mistress. Closing his eyes, picturing every facet of her, he brought the blunted tip of silicone to his slickened pucker and drove the dong into himself. In spite of its formidable side, his well trained hole yielded next to no resistance.

“Oh Celestia, right there,” he groaned, as the girthy medial ring glided across his overly sensitive prostate.

Peering down his chest, seeing a steady stream of bitch-juice leaking from his cage, he shivered in delight. Having his ass stuffed just didn’t feel the same without having his cocklette locked away. Though the discomfort of a struggling erection had left him long ago, with his prick giving up any attempts to grow hard, the weight and pressure on his equipment was oddly reassuring.

Rutting himself with the toy, seeing the tiniest little bulge appear within his abdomen, he practiced his technique. Fiercely clenching on the backstrokes, while relaxing on the plunges, his hole constricted around the pistoning shaft. He couldn’t count how many articles he’d read and videos he watched on how to pleasure stallions or dickmares, honing his mind and body into an amorous machine - still, that did little to comfort his glaring lack of attention.

As much as he hated to admit it, he’d gone so far as to start flirting with she-studs online. Posting pictures of himself, as well as listening to all the depraved things they’d do to him, wound him up like nothing else. It really wasn’t his fault that he’d become a total slut, since his Mistress had made him that way, so if anyone was to blame for his budding interest in having an affair, it was Vinyl.

While he hadn’t actually run around on her, the temptation was growing stronger and stronger by the day - not just because she was apparently losing interest with him, but because of the number of options he had available. There were no fewer than two dozen dickmares in the nearby metropolis of Fillydelphia, including a pair of well-hung sisters who wanted to screw him into a coma. The way things were going, unless something changed, it wouldn’t be a matter of if someone else railed him out but when.

“Babe?” a voice rang out, snapping him back to the present. “You ok in there?”

“I’m…” Citi began, glancing to the door. He swallowed hard, noticing he’d completely forgotten to lock the door behind himself. “I was just - No, don’t!” he bleated, but it was too late. Seeing herself in and spotting him with nearly a foot of dildo in his ass, his Mistress studied him. “I...I can explain!”

Keeping a stoic expression, crossing her arms over her considerable chest, Vinyl silently waited. Though she was more than likely displeased that he’d told her not to do something, a fact which flew in the face of their little arrangement, she was just as attractive as ever. Tall, powerfully built, and having a downright godly cock, the snug muscle shirt and jean shorts she wore did nothing to hide her divine figure.

“Go on…” she muttered, glaring at his blushing face.

“I...I got a new cage!” he exclaimed, desperately attempting to deflect her ire. 

Further spreading his legs, giving her an immaculate view of his stuffed hole and puny chastity, he forced a smile. Heaven help him if she kicked him out; without a job, many possessions, and nowhere to stay, he’d be up the creek without a paddle. Licking his lips, seeing her stony, unmoved expression, he beckoned her closer. 

“I was just warming myself up for you,” he insisted, hoping she’d buy the excuse. “It’s been a while since -”

“Since what? Since you messaged one of those betas you’ve been chatting with?” Vinyl grunted, cutting him off. “Since you uploaded a video of yourself riding that little dildo you have there?” she continued, taking a step towards the bed. “Honestly, given your behavior, I don’t even know if I want you here anymore…”

As the cold, calloused words rang in his ears, something fractured within him. “B...but I’ve done everything you wanted! I never turned you down or -”

“You haven’t taken much initiative either,” she countered, interrupting him yet again. “Most of the time, I have to tell you to get me off. I thought you would have figured it out by now; I don’t want just another walking slam-piece, I need one who will do things I want without me asking.”

“I...I…” he sputtered, feeling tight in the chest. “I try to wear sexy things for you! Every time I show off or ask if you’d like to fuck me, you turn me down.”

“Then don’t ask!” she growled. Leaning forward, roughly squeezing one of his tits, she chuckled to herself. “Show a bit of ambition! Just start jacking me off or, better yet, beg me for it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Citi opened his mouth, but quickly shut it and remained silent. Honestly, there’d been times when he wanted to be more assertive, but he hadn’t known how she’d react. The last thing he wanted to do was to get on her bad side or come off as needy, so he’d never fully acted on his impulses. Gazing up at her, moving to haul the dildo from his tush, he paused.

He could have taken a more aggressive role, but inspiration hit him like a bolt from the blue. If she knew about his clandestine messages and activity online, he may as well double down. Shuffling around, with the dong lodged in his rear, he angled his tush towards her, pushed himself up, and continued to shamelessly fuck himself.

“Give me your phone,” he grunted, sliding the soft shaft in and out of his needy hole.

Cocking her head to the side, unable to look away from his clinging pucker, she reached into her pocket. “Why?”

“Just gimme,” he insisted, balancing on one hand and reaching behind himself.

The dickmare relented, placing the smartphone in the palm of his outstretched hand. Deftly activating the camera, shoving the device between his legs, he did what he could to get a decent angle of the action. If she wanted begging, that was fine, she’d get a permanent reminder of just how bad he needed her.

With the phone in place, having a damn good view of his ass and cage, he wantonly started fucking himself. Though the recording couldn’t see his face, that didn’t mean he was anywhere close to finished with the little show. Arching his back, he squeezed his pucker with all his might. The added pressure on his p-spot sent a rope of glistening pre-cum drooling from his prick.

“Vinyl,” he loudly mewled, jamming the dildo into his pucker, “I need you so bad! Just pin me down and fuck a foal into me!”

He realized it was going to be a relatively short video, but it would definitely hammer the point home. The best part was, he wasn’t even acting. If making a whorish recording of himself, while wantonly fucking a faux dick, would mean feeling her hot, throbbing stallionhood rearranging his insides and knocking him up, so be it - hell, he would have done it ages ago. Briefly twerking around the sex-toy, jiggling his ass for the camera, his little act continued undeterred.

If Vinyl wanted a show, by Celestia, she’d get a show to remember. Shifting tactics, straightening into a kneeling position, he grabbed the phone and slowly moved it up his frame. Watching the display, taking care to get a good shot of his broad hips, chubby belly, and heaving bosoms, he only stopped when his face was in frame. As he lifted his free hand to his cheek, he needily sucked a finger and winked at the camera.

“So how about you put that big, fat dick of yours to…” he trailed off, feeling a palm come to rest on his back.

Before he could react, or even look over his shoulder, he was shoved forward. His pillowy tits were pressed to the mattress, leaving him exceptionally presented to the towering dickmare behind himself. Twisting his head, peering back at her, his eyes widened. At some point or other, while he’d been preoccupied with filming himself, Vinyl had slipped out of her shorts.

“Just gotta...” she grunted, wrenching the dong from his tush. Casting the toy away, stepping forward, she sandwiched her length between his supple buns. “You want it?”

“So bad,” he groaned, shivering beneath her.

With a twisted grin on her face, disinterestedly stroking herself, she shuffled back. “Then show me how bad you want it, Slut.”

As the warm weight of her tool left him, something snapped. Wheeling around, bringing his muzzle to the tip of her shaft, he opened his maw and began making out with her dick. The salty, earthy flavor of her unwashed package was like a drug, made all the more potent by the aroma of her musk, sending hormones flooding through his system. Wasting no time, almost desperate to oblige her, he wrapped his lips around the fat head of her stallionhood.

He knew he’d had it bad for her, but it wasn’t until that moment that he realized it was worse than he thought - simply put, he was addicted to everything about her. Her scent, her size, her strength, her domineering personality; she was a walking demigod, and he was a lowly sycophant who could do little more than pray for her blessing. Losing himself, with his mind fogged with lust, a small tap on the shoulder broke his reverie.

“Phone,” Vinyl quietly insisted, offering her hand.

Nodding, keeping her member lodged in his maw, Citi blindly reached for the discarded device. He didn’t know what she needed it for, nor did he care, but he’d been given an order. Handing her the phone, he shifted his focus right back to her equipment. It had been over a week since he’d last had any quality time with her, not to mention the fact that she’d urged him to be insistent, so he was not about to half-ass his efforts.

“And this, mares and gentlecolts, is how you break a bitch,” Vinyl stated above him.

Peeking up, seeing the camera trained on his face, a blush crept into his cheeks. Though he’d done some solo camera work recently, he’d never done anything on film with anyone else - let alone something so scandalous. The vestigial portions of his masculinity railed against him, screamed at him to stop, but he didn’t listen - no, if anything, he was more turned on than ever.

Staring into the phone, seeing himself in the display, he pressed his head forward. Inch after inch of glorious, thick stallionhood pressed into his muzzle. Muscle memory mingled with his desires, making the task almost laughably easy. Drawing a breath, filling his lungs with air, he slipped the colossal appendage into his throat.

Stuffing his esophagus, feeling his neck bulge outward, he peered at her groin. Her taste and her smell, each a sinful delight, had been dearly missed. Soldiering on, unhindered by the massive cock driving towards his stomach, he only slowed when his nose was pressed against her crotch. Closing his eyes, relishing the knowledge that he’d hilted her in his maw, he lifted one hand and sweetly fondled her nuts.

She’d made him what he was, trained him mercilessly, and so he brought every ounce of his carnal might against her. Withdrawing, with his lips mopping the sweat and saliva from her shaft, he started fellating her in earnest. Anyone could deepthroat a dick, but only the truly devoted could fuck their own face with something so titanic. Ignoring his body, leaving his cage to leak and bosoms to sway beneath himself, his pleasure was derived from serving her.

On and on he went, bobbing his head, while only taking the occasional sip of air. If she wanted him to blow her until she peaked, that suited him just fine. Massaging balls, hoping she had a massive load saved up for him, something grabbed his mane and wrenched him away. Rising to a kneeling position, taking care to milk the pre-cum from her length, he opened his eyes.

“Tell them what you are,” Vinyl purred, stepping back and bringing the camera to his face.

“I...I’m Citi,” he croaked, unable to look away from her stallionhood; it was so close, so very close, yet she kept it from him.

“Not who,” she chided, slapping his cheek with the meaty pillar, “what…”

“I...I…” he faltered, unsure of what to say.

Only reluctantly looking at the phone, seeing his bust on the display, he froze. His mane was a mess, his lipstick was smeared, his mascara was running, and a cocktail of drool and pre-cum coated the top of his rack. Anyone who saw him would assume he was some common whore, a piece of meat made to pleasure others, but then it clicked - that’s what he was.

He’d become an object, lowering his status and revoking his rights as a person. Before he’d met Vinyl, he didn’t have a purpose, yet she’d shown him the way. All the training, the bizarre changes to his body, and his insatiable lust to be a warm receptacle for dickmares and stallions had chipped away at the useless pony that he was, painstakingly reshaping him into what he was destined to be. Drawing a breath, steadying himself, he pressed his tits together and smiled.

“I’m just a dumb, useless slut,” he whispered.

“And?” Vinyl pressed, as a savage grin split her muzzle.

“And my reason for being is to do whatever my Mistress says, whenever my Mistress says it,” he replied, absentmindedly tugging and tweaking his rigid nipples.

The she-stud chuckled and shook her head, yet she kept the camera steady. “How about you show them that pussy you’ve been having me train…”

His eyes went alight, knowing just what she was referring to. For the last few weeks of the tour, and shortly after they’d arrived home, she’d insisted on rebranding his anatomy. Only real stallions had a cock, while all he had was a tiny, flabby clit. His ass was his cunt, its sole purpose was to take dick, and it was the only way he was allowed to receive pleasure. Smirking to himself, remaining on all fours, he moved his rear towards the camera.

“See,” he proudly hummed, steadily sinking four fingers into his well-used hole, “my pussy is always extra juicy for my Mistress.”

Reaching forward, squeezing his coin purse and diminutive cage, Vinyl tugged on his equipment. “And this?”

“T...that’s not important,” he stammered.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less about the limp piece of meat between his legs; its diminished size and lack of use were a reminder of his inadequacy as a stallion - nothing more. The rapture his Mistress delivered, while wholly ignoring his pitiable equipment, was leagues beyond anything he’d experienced in his old life. Toying with his ass, nearly fisting himself, he found the resolve to gaze up at the mare’s face.

“Mistress…?” he murmured, waiting for her to reply.

Cocking her head, subtly training the phone towards his face, Vinyl cocked her head to the side. “Yes, Slut?”

“Breed me, please, I...I’ll do anything,” he whimpered.

“Anything?” she repeated, a tinge of something dark clinging to her words.

He nodded, too turned on to concern himself with whatever she had in mind. “Please…”

With a deep, almost playful sigh, she shook her head. “I guess I could. Alright, present.”

Snapping to, resting his heavy chest against the mattress, he tugged the twin globes of his juicy tush apart. He knew she was still recording everything, as she brought the tip of her length to his entrance, yet that only meant he’d have a recording to get off to later. Resting one hand on his hip, while she held the phone above his rump, she drove herself into him.

The sensation of being impaled was heavenly, especially after suffering through the protracted dry spell. His legs trembled, he furiously gnawed his lip, and cum oozed from his cage, as he climaxed on the spot. It didn’t matter what sort of positions he screwed himself in, or the size of the toys he used, nothing could compare to having an actual dick splitting him in half. As she bottomed out, resting her balls against the impotent little marbles he used to call nuts, she slapped his rear.

“Did you just cum?” she grunted, giving his ass another spank.

“Y...yes,” he reluctantly admitted, ashamed that he’d blown his feeble load so quickly.

Bucking her hips, all but driving him forward, she growled. “Shouldn’t you thank me?”

“T...thank you M...Mist - Aaaaaaahn!” he moaned, as she began savagely pounding him from behind.

There was no warm up, no gradual escalation in force or speed - no, his Mistress simply took to plowing him like a jackhammer. Whether the supremely rough treatment was due to her sadism, domineering streak, or simply because she wanted to put on a show for their little home movie, he couldn’t say - regardless, the raw intensity of her rutting robbed him of speech. Worming his hands under his breasts, questing for his nipples, his eyes rolled.

He’d thought long and hard of ways to describe being fucked by a dickmare of Vinyl’s caliber, but words simply couldn’t do the experience justice. It was like facing something unfathomably greater than yourself, superior in every conceivable way, and having it draw pleasure from your lecherous torment. Confronted against such a force, the only rational option was to embrace the role they assigned you, since fighting was absolutely pointless.

“Well?” she barked. Draping herself over his back, bringing her face to his, she moved the camera over to capture his reaction.

“T...thank you!” he mindlessly howled, while the root of her length crushed his p-spot. “Thank you, Mistress!”

“Get up, you stupid whore,” she hissed.

Pulling one of his arms free, she slammed the phone into his palm. Staring blankly at the device, he quickly found out what she had in mind for him. Grabbing his chest, pulling him into a kneeling position, she harshly twisted and pulled his nipples. His orgasmic screams cut through the air, quickly joined by the cruel laughter of his Mistress.

“Make sure you record everything, Bitch. I want everyone to see your stupid ass getting knocked up,” she snarled.

Somehow, fling in the face of reason, she fucked him more furiously than ever. The submissive portions of his brain realized he’d been given an order, as he extended his arm and got a good shot of his torso. The frame was slightly off center, the recording would doubtlessly be shaky and slightly out of focus, and he couldn’t say if it was exactly what she’d been wanting - still, he did his damnedest to deliver.

Checking the camera’s display, he was given a rare opportunity to watch himself being fucked. His tits would have been bouncing and swaying from the force of her bucking hips, had the dickmare not been so cruelly teasing and squeezing them. Strands of saliva dangled from his chin, coating his chest and spilling to the mattress, but that wasn’t the most captivating thing. Below his bosom, steadily appearing and disappearing beneath the soft flesh of his abdomen, was the imprint of her pistoning stallionhood.

Starting just above his waist, forcing itself up to just beneath his rib cage, the gargantuan bulge was unmistakable - hell, you could even make out the bloated tip. The sight was insane, the type of extreme thing that people fantasized about, but the fantasies didn’t do it justice - not by a long shot. Feeling his insides straightened out, molded and adjusted solely for her, was astonishingly hot, but there was one element that shone above the rest - the fact that she’d chosen him.

“Harder!” he demanded, flexing his pucker around her.

Reaching back, grabbing her hip, he forced her to increase speed - sure, it wasn’t a huge difference, but every little bit mattered. He was her whore, her personal sex slave, and he belonged to none other. Her railing, besides being as amazing as ever, reminded him of just how awe inspiring she was, casting doubt on his plans to hook up with some random dickmare. Unable to change the past, yet regretting having entertained such adulterous thoughts, he sought to prove his worth.

“T...this is what a real stud looks like, and she’s mine!” he announced, training the camera to Vinyl’s face and broad shoulders.

He had no idea how he’d summoned the resolve to form a sentence, let alone make such an audacious claim, but he quickly paid the price. Snatching the phone from his grip, abandoning his teats, she grabbed his mane and slammed his head into the bed. Stepping onto the mattress, effectively squatting over his upturned ass, she pounded him with reckless abandon.

Every plunge drove the air from his lungs, a steady stream of cum seeped from his cage, and his vision began to tunnel. The combination of her primal lust and fury was the stuff of legend, more than any mortal was meant to bear, yet that was what he pined for. It was at these rare moments that he was able to sample everything she had, freed from restraint, even if it often ended with him blacking out.

Time lost all meaning, while she plowed him like a beast possessed. He’d lost track of how many climaxes he’d had, with one orgasm bleeding into another, before she finally started to flare. Pinned beneath her, too weak to move, there was no way to stop what was coming - then again, he had no desire to stop her. The moment she hilted, triumphantly grunting and bucking her hips, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

A literal flood of seed rushed into his depths, filling him in a way that only she could. His gut gurgled, displeased with the sheer volume of spunk rushing into him, while his hole spasmed and winked around her wildly throbbing shaft. Though he’d long since expended what little worthless spunk he had, his last climax was the most powerful of all.

With his ass up, and face smashed into the blanket, he felt his insides churn. His stomach ballooned outwards, filled past the breaking point. The familiar warmth her influx afforded was sublime, beyond rapturous, but his enjoyment was fleeting. Stepping away, forcing the massive head of her swollen cock out of his ass, his abused, gaped pucker gushed her essence over his legs and to the floor below.

Nearly comatose as she pumped the final few shots of her load over his back and head, it was all he could do to haul air into his lungs. He couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t fully emptied herself into him, but he quickly found out why she’d acted so out of character. Shuffling onto the bed, wetly resting her slick dick against his face, she towered over him.

“Clean it, Bitch…”

Like the obedient sow he was, Citi licked and suckled the spunk from her softening shaft. The taste of her seed mingled with the flavor of his depths, further fogging his cum-drunk mind. Swabbing her tool with his tongue, swallowing down every drop of her jizz, he smiled weakly.

“And that,” Vinyl huffed, leveling the camera at his depravity, “is how you breed a bitch.”

Pressing the stop button, she ticked away at the phone. It didn’t matter what she was doing, since he was nearly finished with his demeaning task; all he cared about was making sure his job was done properly. Wriggling to the side, burying his nose between the trunk-like base of her tool and her weighty nuts, he sighed - that was until she shuffled away.

“Press send,” she softly demanded, holding out the phone for him.

Citi’s eyes adjusted, attempting to read the screen. She’d attached the video to an email - an email with all of his contacts as recipients. A weak smile graced him, as he extended a finger to the device. If he pressed the button, everyone would see what he’d become - his friends, his family, what few coworkers he’d kept in touch with, all of them. Without a care in a world, more than happy to forsake his old life, he hit send.

“Good girl,” Vinyl chuckled, tossing the phone over her shoulder. Easing herself down beside him, sweetly caressing his face, she grinned from ear to ear. “Such a good girl…”

Beaming, gratified beyond belief, Citi snuggled up against her. Though he’d effectively committed social suicide, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but her, and the world deserved to know it. Pressing himself to her, wrapping his arms around her back, she peered down at him.

“You know, since you want to get better at this, I know just the mare who could help you out,” she mused.

There was something insidious in her tone, yet he wasn’t concerned. If she wanted him to do something, he’d do it without question. Though he’d like to say he was her marefriend, he knew it wasn’t true. He wasn’t a mare and, so far as he knew, he’d never be an actual mare - no, he was something much better than that - he was her property.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So…” Citi trailed off, crossing and uncrossing his legs, “who’s this mare again?”

Lounging beside the titanic dickmare, disinterestedly watching the television, he did his best to distract himself. Their impending visitor was supposed to show up at seven, in less than ten minutes time, but that hardly meant anything. If their guest was anything like Vinyl, she could be several hours late - that is, if she remembered to show up at all.

He could have easily passed for a busty hooker, adorned in a neon purple tube top and skirt, but that was his typical appearance. The outfit, as well as several dozen new bras, panties, dresses, tops, skirts, and accessories, were all relatively new. Vinyl had taken him shopping three days prior, updating his wardrobe to better suit his steadily changing figure, although that wasn’t what had him excited.

It had been roughly a week since the she-stud had mentioned knowing someone who could help him out. He still wasn’t sure what his lover had meant, nor had she offered to explain it, but something about the mystery of it all was both thrilling and frightening. He’d been with the dickmare long enough to tell when she was up to something, from a subtle shift in her tone to the predatory smile she’d tried to hide, and she’d had several tells each time he’d brought the topic up.

“Like I told you,” Vinyl sighed, glancing over at the clock, “don’t worry about it. They should be here any time now, so unless you want them to come in and see you choking on my cock, you’ll stop asking so many questions.”

“Alright, alright,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his expansive bosom.

Peering down at himself, marveling at just how much cleavage he’d developed, he subconsciously squeezed his tits together. Besides being on the larger side, bigger than the bust of most mares, his rack was extremely sensitive. Having his breasts squeezed or nipples suckled was a staple for getting off, whether he was by himself or if he was getting his brains fucked out, and the thought alone caused his pucker to wink.

Unintentionally exciting himself, feeling pre-cum dribble from his cage, he shifted in place. Just like the rest of him, his ass had steadily changed into something wondrous. His backdoor had become soft and extremely pronounced, looking almost like a fleshy donut, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. Between constantly wearing a chastity cage, fucking himself with dildos to get off, and being railed by the biggest, sexiest marecock in all of Equestria, his backside had been reformed into more of a pussy than anything.

He shivered, glancing over to the swell in his lover’s jeans, as he thought about how magnificent she was. While he did have a number of sex toys, none of them compared to being pinned down and bred like a little bitch in heat. Smelling her, hearing her, tasting her, seeing her tower above him, being physically controlled by her - in a very real way, she was a feast for the senses.

Wondering if he had time for a quickie, or possibly long enough to go plow himself with one of his growing number of sex toys, a sudden knock at the door jarred him from his thoughts. It was exactly seven o’clock, meaning their guest either had an impeccably punctual or they were just lucky enough to be there on time. Pushing himself up, strutting away from the couch, he moved towards the foyer.

His high-heel stilettos clacked on the polished floor, as he moved to the entryway. Aside from their visitor being a mare, one who could supposedly help him with his relationship, he knew nothing at all about her. Checking his reflection in a mirror by the coat rack, ensuring his makeup hadn’t been inadvertently smudged, he put on his best smile and opened the door.

His smile almost immediately faltered, spotting what had to be one of the tallest mares he’d ever laid eyes upon, though she wasn’t quite the size of her big-dicked lover. With a well groomed, raven black mane, contrasted against her slate grey coat, the woman disinterestedly gazed upon him. Her eyes were like cold, unyielding amethyst, steadily sweeping over his figure, as she looked him over from top to bottom. Besides her cool demeanor and size, the most peculiar thing about her was her attire.

For some reason, despite it being late spring, she was wearing a long, leather trench coat. Given the warmth outside, the garment was completely out of place - not to mention the fact that it almost entirely cloaked her figure. Staring up at her, dumbstruck by just how imposing she appeared, his lack of manners quickly caught up with him.

“Not greeting your guest - Hmmph. I can already tell my job is going to be cut out for me,” she chastised, disapprovingly scrunching her snout.

“O...oh - uh - welcome,” he awkwardly blurted, stepping to the side and waving her in. “I’m Citi, and you would be…?”

“You may call me Madam Octavia, but you will remain silent for now. First and foremost, as a mare, you will only speak when spoken to. As it’s my solemn duty to ensure you learn your place, impress your responsibilities upon you, and refine you into the woman you so desperately wish you were,” she intoned.

Stepping inside, slowly walking around him, she closely inspected his every feature. As she cleared the doorway, he noticed a rolling tote resting behind her. Though Vinyl hadn’t mentioned anything about having a protracted visit, the sight left little room for doubt. Whoever this woman was, she clearly wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

“Tavi?” Vinyl’s voice rang out, causing him to shudder. “Right on time, like always.”

“Mmmm,” Octavia impassively hummed, trotting over and hugging the musician. “I presume this strumpet is the one you’d like me to train?”

“Yeah, that’s my bottom bitch and personal cum-dumpster, otherwise known as Citi,” Vinyl guffawed, smirking over at the curvaceous femcolt. 

“While her appearance is...adequate, I have little doubt that she’ll require some work,” the woman apathetically noted. Releasing her friend, she trotted through the doorway and grabbed her luggage. “What room should we occupy?”

“We can use Citi’s room - upstairs, third on the left. She can clean up the mess after we’re finished,” the dickmare snickered, shooting him a wolfish grin. “Come on, Bitch, show our guest to your room.”

Citi paused for the briefest of moments, before sauntering towards the stairs. Not only were Vinyl and Octavia both referring to him in a female sense, but he had a sinking feeling from the mention of training. Fooling around with his Mistress was one thing, but doing so in the presence of another was a line he’d yet to cross. Seeing himself to his room, with the two women trailing slightly behind him, he opened the door.

“Alright, so what are we…” he fell silent, as the phlegmatic mare glared at him. 

He definitely wasn’t used to only speaking when spoken to, so he’d have to be extra mindful for the time being. Unsure of what to do, holding his skirt over his almost laughably small cage, he anxiously fidgeted in place. As his Mistress stood by the door, blocking the exit, their mysterious visitor trotted before him, folded her arms over her chest, and knit her brow.

“Strip…” she aloofly murmured.

Uneasily looking to his mistress, seeing her nod, he nervously did as asked. Slipping his top up and over his head, tossing the article onto his dresser, he reached behind himself and unclasped his bra. It may have sounded silly, but he’d actually become quite fond of wearing the undergarment; given the size of his bust, wearing a brassiere was almost required.

Naked from the waist up, he reached down, unzipped his skirt, and allowed the garment to fall to the floor. He only rarely wore any sort of panties or thong, staying in a near-perpetual state of open access for the virile dickmare, so his loins were left completely bare - well, almost bare. The chrome of his tiny chastity cage contrasted against his coat, causing him to blush and cover himself.

“She’s certainly filling out nicely,” Octavia remarked, brazenly stepping forward and groping his breasts. “Has she begun lactating yet?”

“Lactating?” he blurted, taken aback by the question.

Though he hadn’t meant to speak, he immediately regretted the impulsive utterance. The mare scowled down at him, shaking her head in disapproval, before pointing to the mattress. Gulping, hoping his obedience would spare him from anything too harsh, he climbed onto the center of the bed.

“Lay on your stomach, with your ass perched on the foot of the mattress,” the madam sternly instructed.

Nodding, keeping his mouth shut, Citi wriggled his way down the bed. As his legs hung over the edge, only just touching the floor, he timidly looked to his mate. He wasn’t sure what they were planning, or if he could get any sympathy from either of them, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable with the situation.

“Awwwww, little bitch looks scared,” Vinyl mockingly pouted, unhurriedly unbuttoning her jeans. “Don’t worry, I got something that’ll make you feel all better.”

Despite himself, and the strange circumstances, he found himself unable to look away from her groin. The bulge in her pants throbbed, struggling against the fabric, as she wriggled out of the jeans. It’d been less than a day since she’d last ruined him, yet he’d grown seemingly insatiable for her. Regardless of whether she was destroying his throat or rearranging his insides, he’d grown addicted to her divine stallionhood.

As her pants fell to the floor, followed immediately by her boxers, he instinctively spread and lifted his legs. Guest or no guest, the muscle memory of being dicked down countless times left his body to act on instinct. Slowly leaned forward, grabbing his knees and pulling them towards his chest, he felt the mattress shift beside himself. The sudden movement reminded him that there was someone else in the room, breaking the spell of the she-stud’s cock.

Shifting his focus, seeing something come to rest beside his face, he looked upward. Standing above him, with her feet planted to either side of his head, Octavia threw her trench coat aside and revealed what she’d really been wearing. A shining leather harness, leaving her chest and marehood completely bare, wound around her frame. It was only at that moment did everything finally click - she was a literal madam.

The getup was beyond kinky, the sort of thing he’d only ever seen in hardcore BDSM videos or photos, and it filled him with fearful excitement. Though she didn’t have a cock, something which he found legitimately surprising, her demeanor more than made up for the lack of endowment. Turning around, bringing her toned ass into view, she steadily squatted down.

“It was a long trip, mare, so clean me,” she grumbled.

Without any warning whatsoever, the dominatrix sat squarely on his face. Wiggling her tush back and forth, smearing his face with her sweat, he reflexively reached up and pawed at her behind. Sadly, his resistance lasted only a heartbeat, before a pair of hands seized his wrists and pulled them towards his waist.

“Thank you, Vinyl. While I’m impressed with her etiquette for you, she clearly requires a bit of discipline when it comes to serving others,” Octavia huffed.

Rocking her hips forward, pressing his snout against her hot, humid pucker, she rested what felt like her full weight against him. Unable to move, effectively pinned and immobilized, the femcolt could do little more than breathe in her musk. She smelled a bit different than Vinyl, lacking the heady, masculine aroma of a dickmare, but that mattered little. After the all too brief struggle, he stopped resisting.

“Now then, let us begin. A good mare serves anyone and everyone that her Mistress wishes,” the dominatrix intoned. “Which means…”

“You’re going to eat her ass like it’s your last meal,” Vinyl concluded. “And lift your fucking legs, I’m gonna wreck that cunt while you’re doing it.”

Though their words sounded a bit muffled, he heard them clearly enough. The commands left his mind reeling, though he knew there was no escape. If he refused, he’d disappoint his mate and risk further punishment at the hands of the sadist sitting on his face. Swallowing his pride, he lifted his legs, opened his mouth, and pressed his tongue against the bitter hole bearing down on him. 

Licking and kissing the dark ring, feeling it pulsate against his lips, he trembled. He’d grown increasingly fond of rimming his lover, over the past few weeks in particular, so he took to the task with gusto - sure, the mare may have lacked a package, but an ass was an ass. Unable to see anything and barely able to hear, he groaned when something massive was pressed to his backside.

“Needy little bitch wants it bad,” Vinyl darkly snickered, prodding his ravenous hole. “See her humping the air like that? That means she’s desperate.”

“By all means, feel free to indulge yourself. We’ll see how adequate her skills are while she’s being bred,” Octavia indifferently remarked, keeping relatively still.

Requiring no further prompting, the she-stud plunged into his cavernous backside with next to no resistance. Cum oozed out of his cage, trailing down his dainty coin purse, into the cleft of his ass, and onto the massive cock sinking into his deaths. Moving at a glacial pace, likely listening to his muted moan and whimpers of delight, it didn’t take her long to make him peak. As the massive medial ring slipped into him, grinding against his prostate, thin, watery seed squirted from his puny prick.

He would have howled out, thanking his mistress for her cock, but the most he could muster was an unintelligible groan. Thrusting his tongue into the madam, doing what he could to clean her as thoroughly as possible, he squeezed his pucker around the gargantuan dick in his tush. Spurred by his impetuous embrace, with his legs resting on her shoulders, the dickmare started to rut him in earnest.

Being plowed by someone was intense enough, but having a third partner involved really upped the intensity. Doing what he could to milk his lover’s length, while lavishing the dominatrix’s rear, he felt as though he was in a lewd juggling act. Doing two things at once would have been hard enough as it was, but doing so while accosted by the most wondrous, intoxicating sensations imaginable made things much, much more difficult.

He really was starting to wonder just how much his body had changed. While he hadn’t gotten off from penile contact in several months, his ass had become more than sensitive enough to bring him to climax. Truth be told, he was finding it harder and harder to remember what playing with his diminutive dick even felt like. Grunting into the mare’s tush, bucking up to meet his lover’s plunges, he flexed his legs.

“Needy - Mmmph - little slut,” Vinyl growled, increasing the speed and force of her thrusts.

Octavia shifted above him, though her weight didn’t diminish in the slightest. “Is she being difficult?”

“Nah, just super thirsty, like always,” the dickmare responded, angling her pistoning cock into his prostate.

“Perhaps you should…” the dominatrix trailed off, moving ever so slightly.

“Mmmhmmhmm - Tavi, that’s cruel! I love it,” Vinyl tittered.

In the blink of an eye, something grabbed and tightly squeezed his package. His little nuts were crushed together, causing him to breathlessly gasp. His back arched, his freed hand desperately flailed about, and his legs stiffened, as his coin purse was cruelly gripped by his Mistress. Pain surged through his system, mingling with the pleasure of being railed, overwhelming his senses.

The pair laughed at his torment, continuing to use him like nothing was the matter. He knew he shouldn’t stop pleasing them, that things would get worse if he didn’t do as they’d asked, which left him conflicted. Forcing himself to obey, fighting through the discomfort of having his little nuts throttled, he milked his lover’s pistoning length.

Even if he tried to get away, it would have been impossible - besides, he’d have nowhere to go and nobody to turn to. He wasn’t even sure if his friends or family would recognize him anymore, if they wanted anything to do with him after seeing the video he’d impulsively sent them, which meant he’d have to grin and bear it. Fixating on the stallionhood pounding his ass, focusing on pleasuring the two friends, something wholly unexpected started to happen.

The pain didn’t go away, but it somehow mingled with his bliss. Thrusting into his mate’s hand, smearing pre-cum and weak spunk over her fingers, he felt himself getting close to a second climax. All of the shame, discomfort, and humiliation transcended and twisted, perverted by his mind into something wondrous. Burying his muzzle into the madam’s behind, suffocating herself within her backdoor, he was pushed past the brink.

The second orgasm was an order of magnitude stronger than the first, nearly causing him to blackout. His entire body spasmed, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, as he was wracked by new and incomprehensible sensations by his tormentors. What little jizz was left in his feeble little nuts was forced out of his body, while the pair guffawed at his distress.

“Vinyl, dear, perhaps it’s time we switch tactics,” Octavia coolly noted. Unseating herself, she reached back, rubbed her fingers over her saliva and lipstick streaked ass, and inspected her hand. “Adequate, although her opening left something to be desired.”

“I told you she needed a little work, but I’m pretty happy with her,” Vinyl replied. Releasing his tender package, she stepped back and unceremoniously hauled her rigid length from his battered confines.

Citi limply flopped to the bed, too weak to move, yet pleased with her compliment. He hadn’t thought that it was possible to cum any harder than he had in the past, yet he’d been proven wrong in a cataclysmic way. Languidly watching the dominatrix hop from the bed, trotting to his mistress’ side, she whispered something and pointed towards him.

Be damned if he could tell what they were saying, but it couldn’t be anything good. The pair quietly breathed into each other’s ears, nodding or shaking their heads, until they wolfishly beamed down at him. Smiling weakly, praying he wasn’t in for something worse, his worst fears were realized. The DJ stepped over, slapped his thigh, and nodded.

“Get up, faggot, stop loafing,” she grumbled.

Feebly pushing himself up, using the mattress for support, he got to his feet. He knew without looking that he had to be a mess, having seen his makeup plastered into the cleft of the mare’s backside. Doing his best to straighten his hair, after wiping his face on his forearm, he brushed himself off. Even if he was disheveled, he didn’t want to look too terrible for his lover.

Idly stroking her length, Vinyl twirled one finger. “Present.”

Nodding, he lethargically turned around, placed his hands on the foot of the bed, and shuffled backwards. Though he’d already cum twice, he knew good and well that he wasn’t finished until his mate had bred him at least once. Being bloated with her seed was its own reward, a sign of a job well done, and neither of them would be satisfied until she’d knocked up his ass. Splaying his legs, flipping his tail to the side, he rested his head on the mattress.

As expected, Vinyl stepped behind him, rested her tool between his pillowy buns, and tauntingly hot dogged his tush. Gnawing his lip, he expectantly peered back at her. She really was a total stud, capable of going multiple rounds and completely wearing him out, which was one of the many reasons he’d devoted himself to her. As he slowly reached back, grabbing one ass cheek in each hand, she leaned forward and grabbed his wrists.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Vinyl purred, nodding over him.

Turning his head, seeing the dominatrix easing herself down before him, he licked his lips. The mare’s legs were widely spread, giving him a picturesque view of her slavering marehood, while she inched closer to his muzzle. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was planning to do, so he invitingly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue.

“Lift her just a bit,” Octavia instructed.

Focusing on the mare’s snatch, Citi felt his torso being hefted up. The dickmare hauled his arms, forcing his back to arch, as the mare slid forward and ground her cunt into his face. The sour, somewhat sweet nectar of her sex tasted almost exotic, starkly contrasted against the earthy spunk that he’d become accustomed to, yet he didn’t shy away.

“That’s right, just like that,” the madam cooed. Reaching downward, firmly grasping the base of his skull, she forced his face into the meaty folds of her marehood. “Though I’m sure that you’ll rarely be asked to service a real mare, it’s a skill that you simply must refine,” she whispered, squeezing her thighs against his cheeks. “After all, your mouth is the only way you’d be able to get a female off.”

“Damn right it is. The little faggot probably couldn’t even get hard for a woman,” Vinyl added. “You know, maybe we could get a strapon for her - if you want to get fucked, that is.”

“Would you like that?” Octavia asked, turning his face upwards. “Since you’ll never use that pathetic excuse for a colthood again, perhaps we should get you a dildo instead…”

While the notion was demeaning beyond belief, his heart skipped a beat. Looking away from her, nodding slightly, he continued feasting on her succulent pussy. He really was a failure of a stallion, he always had been, so he was fortunate that his Mistress had shown him his true purpose in the world. The girthy length of marecock resting on his behind shifted, as the she-stud aligned herself with his loosened hole.

“I guess that settles it,” Vinyl chirped, effortlessly sheathing herself in his tush. “After we finish up, we’ll go get you a nice little strap-on.”

“It won’t be as big as your stud’s, of course, but I’m sure it’ll be much more capable than anything else you’ve ever used,” the dominatrix snickered. “Didn’t he have to replace his cage recently?”

“Yup,” the DJ grunted, hammering into his ass. “Her little clit keeps getting smaller and smaller.”

“As it should be,” Octavia sighed, guiding his muzzle to her clit. “We’ll also procure an enchanted cage for it. It will always be extra snug, regardless of how small she ends up being, and the only way to remove it is with a spell.”

He moaned into her cunt, suffering climaxing slightly at the thought. He probably could have gotten off from the dirty talk alone, so being used as a living sex toy left him struggling to stay composed. Stings of pre-cum and thin jizz dangled from his cage, dripping to the floor, as he was rutted. Humping back against his lover, while he gently suckled the mare’s clit, he gradually lost himself.

He couldn’t care less about his once proud stallionhood, having forsaken what traces of masculinity he’d had ages ago. For all intents and purposes, he was a mare - no, less than a mare. He was an object, a toy for relieving others’ sexual tension, yet he absolutely loved it. All of his failures in life had led him to where he belonged, filling a role he had no idea he was suited for, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

His body rocked between them, as the duo made use of his muzzle and ass. Every thrust sent him lurching forward, jamming his snout against the mare’s cunt. Though he wished someone had made use of his tits, his heavy chest swung unmolested beneath him. If they were going out later, should his Mistress be in a good mood, he may just ask to have his nipples pierced.

Rhythmically constricting around his lover’s length, relishing the sensation of her medial ring popping into and out of his pucker, his eyes rolled back. He wasn’t going to last long - then again, he never did compared to her. Moaning into the madam’s snatch, he slipped over the edge. Quivering slightly, overwhelmed with the climactic bliss, his lack of focus cost him.

“She really does need to learn proper etiquette,” Octavia growled. “Now then, let’s see how long until you black out.”

As impossible as it may have sounded, before he could recover, his muzzle was forced into the mare’s silky interior. Weakly thrashing about, finding himself unable to breathe, he panicked. Moments ago, he’d been in the throes of rapture - now he was trapped within her velvety, terrifying confines.

“She must like that! Nnngh - the little bitch is really tightening up!” Vinyl cackled.

Picking up the pace, amused and possibly aroused by the sadistic act, she gradually pulled out the stops. Her hips slammed into his soft tush, and her massive nuts slapped against his inferior package, while she pounded into him. He didn’t need to see himself to know that his abdomen was bulging from her thrusts, showing the imprint of her colossal dick in his guts, but he couldn’t concern himself with that - not when he was suffocating.

For the second time in less than an hour, he was being robbed of air. The burning in his lungs grew worse with every passing second, it felt like his heart might beat out of his chest, and the world was steadily closing in on him. It was a horrifying experience, easily worse than anything he’d ever been through, but some part of him reveled in it.

He really couldn’t say if it was some sort of survival instinct, or if the depths of his depravity had never truly revealed themselves, but the fear gave way to something akin to joy. Neither of the mares had the slightest bit of respect for him, viewing him as little more than a toy, and something about that revelation simply felt right. Forcing himself to remain conscious, doing everything in his power to please them, eventually felt his mate throbbing within him.

The pulsing shaft, the flaring head, and the almost frantic pounding from the dickmare could only mean one thing - she was close. Willing his ass to clamp down on her, squeezing her pistoning length with everything he had, his efforts were rewarded by a deep, triumphant bellow. As the victorious noise of conquest cut through the air, untold pints of seething foal-batter surged into his depths.

Being claimed, knowing he’d fulfilled his purpose, did him in. Howling into the dominatrix’s sex, exhausting what little air was left in his lungs, he slipped into a maelstrom of bliss. The pleasure of being starved of oxygen heightened the experience, similarly to the pain of having his coin purse tortured, though he didn’t jizz. What little watery cum he’d had was long gone, fucked from his prostate by the goddess railing him.

Sinking her fingernails into his scalp, Octavia’s howl caught him by surprise, as did the deluge of climactic juice which went racing down his gullet. Painting his face with her essence, nearly drowning him, she baptized him in her she-spunk. Sadly, the throes of passion and cruel loving proved too much for him.

His legs buckled, collapsing under him, as he fell to the floor. Mercifully, possibly to save herself from being pulled over, Octavia released him and let him fall. Slipping from his rear, Vinyl’s throbbing cock gushed the final few shots of her load over his back, face, and hair. He honestly couldn’t say what happened for several minutes after that, having slipped into the void, but he wasn’t out for long.

Gasping, bolting upright, he looked around in alarm. The pair of friends loomed over him, disinterestedly noting that he was up, yet continuing their conversation. While he considered himself fortunate that they’d given him a reprieve, he felt like he’d been hit by a bus. His makeup was ruined, he was covered in all manner of sensual fluids, and his ass would probably be gaping for the better part of an hour.

“Will she still be able to go out?” Octavia asked, completely ignoring the cum-slicked femcolt.

“Pffft - of course! She’s had worse than that,” Vinyl dismissively snickered.

“C...can I - Cough - ask for something?” he croaked, drawing their attention.

If they wanted to go out and bring him along, there would be no stopping them - as such, he may as well strike while the iron is hot. Asking to have his nipples pierced wasn’t the most impetuous thing, especially because his lover would undoubtedly use them to her advantage, so he felt like it was a reasonable request. Clearing his throat, with the mare’s taste lingering in his sinuses and on his palate, he waited for either of them to reply.

“You may,” Octavia hummed.

“If we’re going out, can I get these pierced?” he meekly inquired, cupping one massive tit in each hand.

As he smiled up at them, holding his breath, the duo stared in amazement down at his rack. He hadn’t expected them to be that shocked by his request, which caused his anxiety to spike. Though they didn’t exactly look angry, there was definitely something off about their reaction. Unsure of what to say or do, continuing to hold his breasts, something warm rolled over his fingers.

Quirking his brow, glancing down at his chest, he froze. Streams of milk were leaking from both his teats, dribbling over his hands and dripping to the carpet. He’d genuinely thought Octavia had been joking earlier, when she’d mentioned something about lactation, but the development spoke to the contrary. Giving his bust a squeeze, causing milk to spray from his nipples, a thrill ran up his spine.

“While I certainly appreciate your suggestion, getting a piercing now would be less than ideal,” Octavia responded, thoughtfully stroking her chin. “That being said, I may have an -”

“We’re getting you a breast pump, a couple potions to increase your output, and a cow outfit,” Vinyl excitedly interrupted, cutting off her friend.

Despite having just cum, the prospect of having an on-hand dairy cow was clearly appealing to the dickmare. Her semi-rigid stallionhood twitched, steaming in the cool air, as it began to swell with blood. Stooping down, hooking her hands under his arms, she lifted her fuck-toy to his feet, lowered her head, and latched onto one of his leaking breasts.

Citi bit his lip, as she hungrily nursed on his teat. He knew they’d been growing larger, and that their sensitivity had increased exponentially, but he couldn’t have fathomed he’d actually start producing milk! Clenching as hard as he could, trapping what little remained of her creamy load in his ass, he pulled her to his chest.

“Might I also suggest some bondage-wear and accessories - slings, rope, cuffs, all the normal accouterments,” Octavia remarked, trotting around behind him. “If or when she is properly trained, I have little doubt that periodic reminders will help her stay the course.”

Squatting down, running one hand up his thigh, she suddenly jammed her hand into his ass. An effeminate moan escaped his lips, as she fiercely ground her palm against his overly-sensitive prostate. The sensation of being fisted while having his breast suckled was amazing, almost as good as being railed out - not just because of how good it felt, but because of the mental imagery it evoked.

He’d taken one step closer to becoming a real mare, and he couldn’t be happier. Thoughts of himself heavy with foal, as he nursed his well-hung lover, flitted through his mind. Even if he couldn’t actually get knocked up, producing milk would make the fantasy just a bit closer to achieve. His eyelids flitted closed, his pucker quivered, and the breath hitched in his throat, while he pictured himself as a gravid, expectant mother.

Though Vinyl didn’t vocally respond, she held out a thumbs up. Nodding enthusiastically, unable to look away from his lover’s swelling length, Citi fondled his free tit. Though the cold tempered mare had only just arrived, he was hesitantly thankful that she’d come to help his situation. With the prospect of a new cage, some very kinky roleplay, and a couple of new outfits, the afternoon could only get better...
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking through the parking deck and into the Canterlot mall, blissfully ignoring the slack jaws and shameless stares from those he passed, Citi couldn’t be happier. The last month had been nearly perfect and easily a new high in his relationship with his lover and owner, Vinyl. With the help of Octavia’s tutelage, and a bit more initiative on his part, he’d finally reignited his mate’s passion.

Regular face-fuckings and booty-plundering had become the norm once again, leaving him beyond satisfied on a daily basis. Simply thinking about his mate’s mighty stallionhood, and how wonderfully it felt lodged in his throat or ass, sent shivers of excitement up his spine; just that morning, before they’d gone out on their little errand, he’d ridden her cowgirl until she’d emptied her hefty nuts within him. Things simply couldn’t be better, for the most part.

Perhaps because of the renewed deposits he was receiving, or due to his rekindled devotion to the she-stud - his she-stud, his body had continued to gradually change - as such, he required some new clothes. Neary every outfit he owned had become far too snug in some places, while being a bit too loose in others, so an updated wardrobe was necessary; fortunately for him, Vinyl was more than pleased to spoil him with some well-fitting attire.

Trotting at his lover’s side, fully aware of how scandalous he must look, Citi pressed himself to the towering dickmare. It didn’t matter that his crop top, a rather revealing article in and of itself, failed to fully cover the areola on his massive bust, nor was he concerned that his skirt revealed the bottom of his deliciously thick tush; so long as his mate was happy, he was happy. Passing what he presumed was a married couple, seeing the husband’s hungry gaze settle on his chest, he giggled.

“You’re such a slut,” Vinyl snickered, casually reaching back and squeezing one cheek of his ass.

“Yeah,” he sighed, wrapping his arm around her hip, “but I’m your slut.”

Glaring over her shoulder, briefly locking eyes with the lusty stallion they’d walked by, the dickmare fiercely gripped his rump. “Damn right you are.”

Hearing those words, Citi’s heart fluttered within his chest. He’d always heard that some girls relished being coveted by their lover, but he hadn’t fully understood it until he’d found his mate. There was something special about being wanted and having a place, especially since his place tended to be on his knees, that brought him an unimaginable amount of joy. He was the titan’s plaything and slam-piece, an outlet for her sexual frustrations and desires, and he positively adored what he’d become.

“Where to first?” the DJ asked, slowing by a map kiosk.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, studying the list of stores. “We could start out with the lingerie shop, then go to the boutique for tops and skirts. Is that alright?”

Vinyl cocked a brow, peering down at her comparatively diminutive mate. “Kinda surprised you’re not wanting new shoes or accessories.”

Citi’s full, pouting lips curled into a sinful grin, as he nonchalantly groped the mammoth bulge in her shorts. “Why would I need shoes, when you want to keep me barefoot and pregnant…”

The titan’s eyes widened slightly, apparently caught off guard by the audacious and salacious claim, but she was quick to recover. Without a care in the world, heedless of who may be looking, she adjusted her grip on his tush and sank one finger into his pronounced pucker. He’d been a bit surprised when she hadn’t asked him to go out wearing his plug, but having his hole stuffed meant he’d miss wonderful moments like these.

“Bet you’d fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you?” she chuckled, slipping another two digits into his well-trained backdoor.

“M...Mmmhmm,” he lightly whimpered, gnawing his lower lip.

Rocking back into her hand, constricting his backdoor around her fingers, he instinctively pawed at his chest. Sweet, merciful Celestia - she knew just what to say to get him worked up. Squeezing one nipple, feeling his clit starting to drool within its cage, he only just stifled a groan. Truth be told, had she stepped behind him, whipped out her cock, and had her way with him right there, he wouldn’t have been bothered in the slightest.

Not only was she an imposing size, but her celebrity status let her get away with much more than most ponies. He’d only ever seen police or security politely ask her to curtail her actions, but he’d never seen her formally charged with anything. Most of the time, at worst, she’d halfheartedly apologize for whatever depravity involved in, then offer a photo or autograph as a small recompense - as such, if she wanted, she toyed with him at her leisure.

Plunging a fourth digit into his tush, nearly fisting him, she brought her muzzle to his ear. “Maybe we should stop by the maternity shop before we leave - you know, since you’re so desperate to get knocked up.”

“Oh my gods, yes,” he moaned, his eyelids fluttering at the thought.

Blissfully tugging at one udder-like tit, silently praying she’d sneak him into a changing room or restroom for a quickie, a moist sensation on his fingers gave him a moment for pause. Peeking down at his bust, noticing a distinctly wet patch over his teats, he glowered. Over the last several weeks, he’d begun spontaneously lactating when aroused; it was an unexpected and extraordinarily arousing development, one he was still trying to wrap his head around, but he hadn’t even considered it before they’d gone out.

“Care for a drink?” he teased, hefting the massive, leaking tit towards her face.

Smirking, continuing to grind her knuckles over his hypersensitive prostate, Vinyl nodded to his right. “Nah, but it looks like you might have a few volunteers.”

Cocking his head, wondering what she meant, he turned his head, looked to the side, and froze. Standing about twenty feet away, watching their obscene and wholly inappropriate display of affection, a lithe thestral stood rigid in several ways; his tented pants, lustful look, and splayed wings made it almost laughably obvious that he was enjoying the show, but that wasn’t what left Citi speechless. He wouldn’t have batted an eye, had the stallion been any random stranger, but it wasn’t a stranger.

He knew the guy looked familiar, yet it took him a second to recognize the face; the moment he did, the blood in his veins went frigid. There was no mistaking it, he was looking at one of his oldest childhood friends, Nox. Though they’d grown up together, having attended the same middle school and high school, it had been nearly a year since they’d seen one another - a year which must have left him unrecognizable to his old buddy. Unsure of what to say or do, feeling his mouth go dry, he swallowed hard.

Glancing between the femcolt’s aghast face and the thestral, Vinyl knit her brow. “You know that guy or something?”

The question shook Citi from his stupor, spurring him to turn his back to his friend. Though the sudden move was driven by shame, it had an unintended and exceptionally lewd result. The dickmare’s hand cleared his confines, leaving his gaped and slickened backdoor visible. Burying his face in his lover’s mountainous chest, trying and failing to hide from his friend, he peeked up at the amazoness.

“That’s Nox,” he whispered.

“Who?” she blurted, glowering down at him. “Is he an ex or something?”

“No! He’s an old friend of mine,” he hissed.

Even though he’d fully devoted himself to his Mistress, the realization that he knew the thestral from his prior life as a stallion made him feel odd. The last time they’d hung out, they’d chatted about girls, while sharing a pizza and beer - now, having effectively become a painfully curvaceous mare with an addiction to cock, he was a totally different person. If Nox recognized him from the video he’d drunkenly sent to a number of his contacts, he gave no overt sign.

“What’s his name?” Vinyl conspiratorially murmured, keeping her voice low.

“Nox,” Citi responded, peeking over at the enamored thestral, “but don’t do anything -”

“Hey, Nox!” the amazoness shouted, lifting and waving a hand in the stallion’s direction.

A cold weight settled in the pit of Citi’s stomach, and his jaw wordlessly dropped, seeing and hearing his lover’s reaction. He knew she was extremely outspoken at times, brazenly catcalling or openly flirting with strangers she found attractive, but he would have never fathomed she’d do something so insane! Sneaking a glance over to his friend, seeing the stallion trot closer, his eyes widened in shock. Like it or not, it appeared as though he was about to get an introduction he had not prepared for.

“Nox, right?” Vinyl asked, as the young thestral came to a few paces away. Extending her hand towards him, she beamed.

“Y...yeah, that’s me,” Nox stammered, clearly caught off guard by being summoned by the literally and figuratively massive celebrity - still, he reluctantly shook her hand and smiled.

“My little friend here said she knew you,” she noted, steadily turning the femcolt to face him, “but you might not recognize her. Nox, do you have any idea who this is?”

The stallion openly eyed buxom unicorn’s damp, slightly transparent top, ogling the pair of heaving bosoms, before begrudgingly shifting his focus. Squinting over at Citi’s face, he slowly shook his head. “No...I don’t think so.”

“Go on,” Vinyl snickered, shoving her pet forward and giving him a soft smack on the rear, “introduce yourself.”

Citi knew better than to disobey her, but he really, really didn’t want to deal with explaining how and why he could pass for a bimbo porn star. Pulling his skirt down with one hand, while doing his damnedest to pull his top up with the other, he fitfully squirmed in place. Realizing he didn’t have much time, lest he evoke his Mistress’ ire, he shakily nodded. 

“I...I’m…” he gulped, trying and failing to gather the courage to speak.

“She’s a little shy,” Vinyl chuckled. With a more than conspicuous shove, sending the anxious femcolt rack-first into his friend, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on…”

“It’s me, Citi,” he finally admitted. Peering down at the floor, feeling the blood rush into his cheeks, he stood motionless - that was until the thestral stepped back.

“Wait,” Nox croaked, “that was you in that video?!”

“Y...yeah,” Citi muttered, embarrassed beyond belief that one of his best buddies had seen him getting plowed like a whore.

“Wha...How? I...I mean, you look - uh -” the thestral stammered, unwilling or unable to complete his statement - a statement the dickmare was all too pleased to conclude.

“She looks fucking great, doesn’t she?” Vinyl hummed, coolly reaching under her lover’s arms to grope her bounteous chest. “Just look at these massive melons,” she proudly continued, giving the pair of tits a squeeze, “and that cunt of hers - Mmmph - some of the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

Citi’s face went a bright crimson, yet his pucker needily winked at the compliment. Nervously looking up to his friend’s face, seeing the awestruck expression painted there, he weakly grinned. Unplanned and awkward as the moment was, there was a certain thrill to the moment. There he was, being openly fondled by his Mistress, in front of his former classmate - his former classmate who obviously liked what he was looking at. Lowering his gaze, noting the erection within the thestral's slacks, his eyes locked on the bulge like a pair of cock-seeking missiles.

“You want to get a better look?” the dickmare teased, lowering one hand to cup her mate’s groin.

Nox played with his hands, oblivious to just how aroused he was, before he uneasily cleared his throat. “I...I don’t think-”

“Come on,” Vinyl sighed, tugging the femcolt’s top just low enough to reveal a very erect nipple, “judging from that little tent in your pants, I know you want to.” Without another word, shifting her grip, she grabbed her lover’s wrist, turned, and marched back towards the entrance they’d come through. “If you don’t want a show, feel free to go and jack off in a bathroom or something.”

Dragged along behind the amazoness, doing his best to keep up in his heels, Citi was at a loss. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? If he spoke out against her, or tried to stop her, he risked pissing her off, and he was not about to do that. Looking over his shoulder, his pulse quickened. Sure enough, with his curiosity apparently winning out, the thestral started trailing them.

It only took them a scant few minutes to return to the carpark and their parked vehicle, a particularly decked-out SUV she owned. The auto was sandwiched between two cars, and the lot was practically vacant, allowing them to speak in relative privacy. Without a care in the world, the dickmare stopped by the driver-side door, spun her pet around, and pulled his top down.

“Just take a look at these sweater puppies,” she cackled. Taking a breast in each hand, giving the pair of productive mammaries a squeeze, she sent streams of milk spraying to the cool concrete below. “Bet you wish she had a pair like this back when you were in school with her.”

Nox licked his lips and nodded, but he didn’t say a word, while Citi wriggled in the amazoness’ grasp, reflexively grinding his ass against her bulge. He really was a mockery of a stallion, having had what little masculinity he possessed systematically fucked out of him for the better part of a year, yet that was only one facet of who he now was. For the past several weeks, his exhibitionistic side had been growing by leaps and bounds.

What had started as taking salacious photos and indecent videos of himself had blossomed into regular online shows. Be they solo or with Vinyl, he’d become increasingly fond of recording himself being fucked, getting off, or demeaning himself for an audience. Softly panting, spreading his legs ever so slightly, he noticed the thestral's attention drop lower.

Leaning forward and peeking down, he spied a glistening drop of pre-cum dangling between his thighs; the sight wasn’t that surprising, given how worked up he was, but it may have caught his friend by surprise. As if on cue, the meaty hands on his bust crept to the hem of his skirt, threatening to reveal his chaste, pitiful cocklette.

“In case you were wondering, yeah, he still has one -” Vinyl guffawed, lifting the garment to unveil his cage, “that is, if you consider this puny little clit a prick at all. Even if I took the cage off, I don’t think the little faggot could get hard anymore.”

Getting increasingly turned on, struggling with the situation, Citi’s muscle memory kicked in. Reaching behind himself, he stroked the hardening length within his Mistress’ shorts. It wasn’t exactly like he’d planned on winding up in such a lewd situation, but his training and lecherous wants demanded he act. As his arousal dribbled to the ground, he needily wiggled his hips back and forth.

“And this bitch is well trained,” the amazoness haughtily proclaimed. Ceasing her ministrations, she stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. “Watch this shit. Ahem - suck it, Bitch.”

Without a second thought, the femcolt spun around, squatted, and deftly unbuttoned the dickmare’s shorts. Besides having blown her more times than he could count, practically leaping at every opportunity to choke himself on her girth, he’d learned to obey her without question. Gripping the zipper between his teeth, opening the garment with ease, he withdrew her semi-rigid tool and began nursing on its bloated tip.

“See, I told ya!” Vinyl guffawed, affectionately patting her lover’s head. “Hey, fuck-meat, how about you give him a show.”

Adjusting slightly, arching his back, Citi reached between his legs and drove his entire hand into his ass. His hand wasn’t much smaller than the root of his mate’s divine stallionhood, so it took perilously little effort to fist himself. Flexing his pucker, ravenously squeezing his wrist, he beat the pre-cum out of his oversized p-spot.

Smoothly plunging her length into his maw, choking her lover’s airway with marecock, Vinyl looked over to their guest. “Pretty fucking hot, right?”

“Y...yeah,” Nox sputtered.

“Go ahead and whip it out, I don’t give a fuck - besides, I’m sure your friend here has always wanted to see what you were packing,” the amazoness laughed, lightly bucking into the femcolt’s muzzle.

Though Citi couldn’t hear it, the unmistakable sound of a zipper caught his ear. If his buddy really was about to get off to his display, he needed to up his game. Pushing himself up, taking care to keep the blunt head of his Mistress’ dick in his mouth, he stood. Some part of him screamed not to, that his friend would think less of him, but he couldn’t help himself. Shuffling back and taking a broad stance, he flipped his skirt and invitingly waggled his tush at the stricken thestral.

“Heh - would you look at that! Looks like you got her kinda excited,” Vinyl snickered. Forcing her mate’s head down, continuing to make use of his snout and esophagus, she stiffed. “Actually, hang on, I have an idea.”

Just as quickly as she’d begun, she hauled Citi’s head back, cleared his clinging gullet of her dick, and hooked a hand under his chin. Glancing up to her face, he squinted. It wasn’t like her to stop him from blowing her, so he instantly knew she was up to something. Waving her hand, motioning for him to move, he stepped to the side.

“Here,” she noted, opening the rear passenger door to her SUV, “get in.”

“Are we going somewhere?” Citi meekly asked, a bit disappointed that she’d put their good time to an abrupt end.

“Hell yeah we are! Me and your little stud buddy are gonna take you to pound town,” she announced, waving to the interior. Glancing between the unicorn and flustered thestral, she smirked to herself. “Hop in. I’ll let the dude take you for a spin.”

Citi started, as the implications of her suggestion sank in. He wasn’t opposed to giving someone a show, even an old friend like Nox, but he had not anticipated being offered up as a quick lay to one of his oldest friends in existence. Ignorant to the fact that his hand was still lodged in his tush, he looked between the two; Vinyl bore a predatory, almost impish look, while the thestral seemed a bit indecisive - that was until he noticed what his companion was holding.

Holding his ground, appearing as though he was warring with the proposition, he held his rigid stallionhood in one hand. Though he wasn’t nearly as heavily endowed as the titanic dickmare, his member was definitely on the bigger side. Relatively short, but delectably thick, his member was easily big enough to fuck the cum out of anybody.

Throwing his inhibitions to the wind, seeing just how excited his former classmate was, he steadily crawled into the cabin. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, with the backseat being relatively small, but he wasn’t concerned. Rolling onto his back, with his behind hanging just over the side of the seat, he lifted his legs.

“You ever think she’d wind up like this?” Vinyl inquired, gazing at the slavering little prick at her mate’s groin. Reaching down and slapping her lover’s little coin purse, he yelped. “How fucking pitiful is this? If she’d realized she was a bottom bitch sooner, you probably would have been tearing that ass up every afternoon.”

Lifting his head, gazing past his bosoms, Citi pursed his lips. There’d been a time when such insults would actually cause him dismay, but that time had long passed; as things were, the indignities did nothing but send an excited thrill through him. Every day he spent in his colossal lover’s presence made him more of a masochist, transmuting the verbal and physical abuse to little more than excitement.

As the thestral stepped into position, holding the base of his length, the amazoness stepped behind him. “Don’t be shy,” she purred, gently pushing him forward, “trust me, she’s a bigger slut than you’ll ever believe.”

“You - Um - really don’t mind?” Nox bashfully asked, his raging boner standing in stark contrast to his quiet words.

Unable to control himself any further, with the whorish fires of his lust roaring into an inferno, Citi mouthed two words he’d become intimately familiar with uttering. ‘Fuck me…’

The silent plea did the trick, pushing the bat pony past the breaking point. Moving forward, giving the unicorn’s entrance an experimental nudge or two, he steadily sheathed himself into his childhood friend. Gasping, doubtlessly surprised by just how easily his length slid into the well-used hole, he slowed. There was no way he could have known the femcolt kept his backdoor in a constant state of readiness, staying cleaned and lubed for his Mistress’ convenience, so the sensation must have been a bit jarring.

“Here,” Vinyl huffed, “let me help.”

Grabbing the thestral's hips, she rammed him forward. The swift move caught the pair off guard, yet the impact on Nox was far hotter than it should have been. Stiffening in more ways than one, the stallion found himself fully hilted in his buddy’s bottom. Shivering in delight, Citi wasn’t quite as surprised as his friend.

As far as he was concerned, nothing quite hit the spot like the welcome feeling of having his hole filled. Though Nox wasn’t nearly as large as Vinyl, the warm sensation of an actual dick was far superior to a flimsy sex-toy. Clenching around the thick stallionhood, peering up at his friend’s face, he giggled.

The look on the thestral's face was absolutely priceless and there was only one word he could think of to describe it - smitten. With a silly little smile plastered on his muzzle, and his eyes blissfully closed, the stallion released a shuddering, contented sigh. The femcolt knew the expression all too well, having seen it on his Mistress’ face multiple times, although it only graced him when he was being plowed.

“Go ahead, Champ, don’t keep your new marefriend waiting,” Vinyl goaded, giving Nox a playful slap on the ass.

Just like that, with the slightest bit of prodding, the thestral started thrusting. There was next to no buildup, too enraptured by the situation to take his time, as he started rutting his companion. Too horny to care, or possibly having developed a fetish for emasculated and feminized stallions, he bucked his hips like a teenager on his first lay.

Leaning over her lover, watching his pucker hungrily swallow and constrict around the pistoning length, the dickmare grinned. “She might be a little well used, but there’s a trick to fix that,” she noted. Extending her arm, she roughly squeezed her mate’s diminutive package.

The jolt of pain caused Citi’s backdoor to seize, clamping down around Nox’s tool. His Mistress had adopted the sadistic tactic some time ago, and it never failed to catch him on the back-foot - that being said, he secretly loved it. Over time, under the dickmare’s care, his mentality had gradually shifted; it may have been an adaptive mechanism, or maybe she’d just cast a light on his inner hidden desires, but he’d become a glutton for punishment.

Moaning with each thrust, savagely twisting and pulling at his milk-covered teats, he endured the tumultuous storm of sensations - sure, the thestral was roughly half the size of his mate, but knowing he was being rutted by a lifelong friend added a sinful layer of depravity he hadn’t experienced before. With pre-cum oozing out of his cage, rhythmically relaxing and constricting his pucker, he allowed his perversion to take the reins.

“Just look at you two little faggots. If I didn’t know better, I’d mistake you for a pair of lovebirds - then again, since I’ve been spoiling him with this,” Vinyl grunted, smacking her bitch’s thigh with her monstrous cock, “I think you might need a little help getting him off…”

Citi’s heart skipped a beat, seeing the dickmare disappear from sight. Momentarily forgetting about the length buried in his rump, hoping his suspicions were correct, the door above his head opened. Craning his neck, seeing his lover’s face, he swooned. Situated as he was, with his tush hanging out one side, and his face just within the other, he was almost perfectly positioned for...

“Open wide, Slut,” she growled.

Resting his head back, he eagerly opened his mouth and awaited her. He’d never been lucky enough to serve two people at once, outside of his times with Octavia, and he was not about to pass up on the opportunity. As the girthy marecock slid into his maw, with his mate holding onto the door frame for support, he lavished her length with his tongue. Wasting no time, plunging into his throat, the amazoness joined the thestral in using him.

“This is so fucking hot,” Nox reverently whispered, grabbing the femcolt’s thighs.

“I know, right?” Vinyl responded, bucking into his snout. “If you really want to get her going, angle your thrusts upwards just a bit.”

With his lover’s fat, pendulous nuts slapping against his face, Citi savored every word of the conversation. It was hard to explain, but moments like these reminded him of what he’d become, who he was meant to be. Laying there, devoting himself to others’ carnal needs, this was his reason for being. His time with Vinyl had shown him his true calling, molding his mind and body to suit a purpose he didn’t know he had; he simply regretted not embracing his role sooner.

Lightly rocking back and forth between them, jostled by the force of their plunges, he did what he could to please them. Being spit-roasted in the back of a vehicle wasn’t exactly what he’d call ideal, giving him perilously little room to maneuver, but he managed all the same. With little else to do, his fingers clutched and pawed at his chest.

One of the crucial things he’d learned from his mate, and further hammered home from his tutelage with Octavia, was that one shouldn’t neglect theatrics. Even if one was being fucked silly, they could still entertain their partner - as such, he put himself to work. Milking his teats, he lewdly gagged and moaned around his the sublime length of mare-meat.

Nox apparently enjoyed the show, quickening his pace and fucking harder than ever. Heeding the dickmare’s advice, slightly adjusting the trajectory of his stallionhood, he pounded the femcolt’s tender p-spot with reckless abandon. Each plunge sent his medial ring over his busty buddy’s magic button, as he desperately sought to sate himself.

Though the thestral lacked technique, his feverish plowing was almost adorable. Citi had always assumed his friend was as straight as an arrow - at least, he’d never confessed to having thoughts of being with a guy - but that notion had gone straight out the window. His little clit was on full display, leaking and bouncing with every thrust, and served as a reminder that the stallion was screwing a guy - a buxom, curvaceous, and extraordinarily effeminate guy, but a guy nonetheless.

His palate was coated with the cloying flavor of sweat and pre-cum, while his pouting lips mopped his lover’s length. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy getting his ass railed - far from it, in fact - yet he knew where his loyalties lie. Vinyl was the world to him, his reason for being, and she’d always take precedence. Choking on her cock, gradually shifting his focus to her, he reached up and caressed her thighs.

“There ya go,” Vinyl sighed, delving deeper into his gullet, “just like that.” Picking up the pace, she leaned forward and sank her fingers into her chaste mate’s bust. “Hey, fag,” she grunted, glancing up at the humping bat-pony, “keep going. Considering she can’t breathe, it probably won’t take her long to pop.”

Eager to see his emasculated companion cum hands free, or simply getting close himself, Nox’s thrusts grew frantic. The femcolt was quick to reciprocate, extending his legs and locking his heels around his friend’s wildly bucking hips; dickmare or not, he wasn’t about to let the thestral go wanting. His pucker skillfully milked and lovingly flexed around the plunging stallionhood.

Minutes dragged on, while he juggled his pair of paramours, until things inevitably drew to a head. In spite of Nox’s zeal, or possibly because of it, his endurance was found wanting. Going at full force, relinquishing what little self-control he had, he started to flare. Sensing the impending release, like the subservient sow that he was, the femcolt’s legs flexed and drew the stallion inward.

Had Citi’s muzzle been free, he would have enthusiastically begged for the thestral's cum, but that was simply impossible. With his airway completely cut off, being thoroughly swabbed by the behemoth marecock in his gullet, the most he could manage was a choked gag of affection. Feeling his friend’s throbbing length, embracing the taboo and scandal of being plowed by someone he’d known since childhood, he crept closer to his limit.

Undoubtedly seeing her plaything’s impending release, having learned to spot his various physical tells, Vinyl launched into a full assault. Angrily tugging on the femcolt’s nipples, as she ruthlessly fucked his face, she held nothing back. She knew just what her sycophantic lover was capable of enduring, so she pushed him to the breaking point - after all, testing him was the only way to see him improve.

Unable to breathe, feeling his lungs spasm and burn, Citi’s vision tunneled. The sheer intensity of throating his mate was often enough to get him off by itself, but being rutted by somebody elevated the experience to an unfathomable degree. Urgently humping up at the stallion, practically ravenous for the winged-stud’s essence, he contracted his stuffed hole for everything he was worth.

“F...Fuck!” Nox groaned, hilting within his companion.

Hot, syrupy seed flooding Citi’s interior would have been enough to push him past the brink, yet there was another factor which ultimately did him in. Unapologetically fucking his muzzle, with the tip of her length tickling his stomach, Vinyl erupted within him. The two-fold influx of spunk cast him sailing over the edge, sending watery, impotent spunk squirting from his cage.

“See that! Bitch even - Nnnph - squirts like a mare,” Vinyl mused, pumping her load into his gradually swelling belly.

Doing his level best to knock up the femcolt, Nox grunted triumphantly. Who could say if he’d ever indulged himself with breeding a male, even a pitiful excuse for one, but Citi liked to think it was his first time. His hips fitfully bucked and twitched, as the final shots of his foal-batter were deposited within his companion’s behind.

“Well that was fun,” the dickmare huffed, stepping back and unceremoniously hauling her softening length from his maw. “Have fun, Sweetheart?”

Coughing fitfully, swallowing down the residual cum, Citi nodded. Talking wasn’t the easiest thing to do after having his throat demolished by something as big as his arm, yet there was something he wanted - no, needed to say. Pushing himself up on one arm, wearily smiling down at his friend, he wiped the spunk from his lips.

“Thanks,” he croaked, gathering his courage to look the thestral in the eye. “I always did think you were cute.”

The admission was a bit perfidious, but that wasn’t important. He’d claimed the heterosexuality of someone he’d known for ages, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy every second of it. Put on the back foot, blushing and weakly smiling, the stallion awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I...I think you’re pretty cute too,” Nox whispered.

“If you ever want to wind up like your friend, give me a call,” Vinyl chuckled, flopping her cock onto her lover’s face. As the obedient sow locked and suckled her clean, she fished into her shorts, pulled out a card, and flicked it over to their guest. “Just so you know, if you want to pay us a visit, you’re gonna have to suck me off before you get any more action from my bitch.”

Retrieving the slip of paper, staring down at the number, the thestral nodded. “I’ll...I’ll bear that in mind,” he murmured. Slipping the paper into his pocket, swiftly stuffing his softening cock into his pants, he zipped his fly and secured his belt. “I’ve - uh - gotta go. I’ll see you later, Citi, and it was a pleasure meeting you, Vinyl.”

“Toodles, Stud,” the dickmare cheerfully replied, watching him turn and hastily trot away. Peering down at her cum-drunk mate, grinning from ear to ear, she cocked a brow. “You think he’ll call?”

“I...I really don’t know,” Citi meekly responded, genuinely unsure of if his friend would be brave or foolish enough to take up the offer. “Maybe?”

“Well if he does, don’t be mad if I give him the same treatment as you. Can’t have too many sluts fighting over this dick,” she laughed, smearing his face with saliva and spunk, “and I’m pretty sure you’d like a little competition.”

The femcolt’s blissful euphoria wavered, as the implications of her statement sank in. Covetously hugging her hips, he buried his face in her hefty nuts. Be damned if the thought of sharing her with anyone was a welcome one, especially if it was his friend, so his mindset shifted in an instant. If never seeing his buddy meant he’d have his lover all to himself, he was totally fine with that.

“Finish up quick, we still gotta get that shit you need,” Vinyl tutted, playfully grabbing one of his tits. “Once we’re done with the shopping, maybe I can get some lunch - you know, since you already got your meal…”
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Citi had remained quiet for the entire ride, despite her mounting anxiety. She’d donned the painfully revealing getup Vinyl had surprised her with, and she hadn’t questioned going out while wearing it, but the revelation that they were going to a club had set her nerves on edge. Going out while wearing something skimpy was one thing, but wearing the mockery of a swimsuit while in a crowded cabaret was something else entirely.

“It’ll be fine,” the hulking dickmare mused, seemingly sensing her lover’s anxiety, “just trust me.”

“So I won’t get in trouble for - uh…” Citi trailed off, peering down at her massive, barely covered chest.

“Trouble? Hah -” Vinyl laughed, “not here you won’t. I would never do anything to put you in harm’s way, would I?” Parking the SUV, she leaned over and lovingly drew her fingers up the busty femcolt’s chin.

“N...no,” Citi weakly replied, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks.

While it was true that her Mistress had never done anything that resulted in her having any problems, legal or otherwise, being paraded about like a common whore set her nerves on edge. As the dickmare withdrew, getting out of the vehicle, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger door. Regardless of what they were doing or where they went, so long as Vinyl was with her, she knew everything would be alright - at least, she hoped everything would be alright.

As she walked around the back of the SUV, joining her awaiting mate, she looked over to what she presumed was their destination. The building was relatively large and nondescript, almost appearing as if it used to be a factory of some sort, but she could hear a thumping bass line emanating from the structure. As her titanic lover hooked arms with her, guiding her to the entrance, she gathered her courage.

“Any particular reason you wanted to go out tonight?” she demurely inquired.

The question was relatively modest, considering they rarely went out to such places. While not on tour, Vinyl almost seemed to avoid large gatherings, likely because she was forced to attend so many for her trade. Looking up to her towering lover, seeing a coy little smile on the woman’s face, a cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I just thought that this would be a good way for you to broaden your horizons,” Vinyl casually explained, waving to a pair of bouncers by the door, “and maybe make Mama a few extra bits - you know, because all those sexy little getups, shoes, and jewelry I keep getting you aren’t cheap.”

The mention of somehow earning money did little to calm Citi’s nerves, as she moved into the club beside her Mistress. As far as she knew, there were only a handful of ways for a mare like herself to make capital, and none of them would be particularly savory. Pressing herself to the dickmare’s side, doing her level best to keep her eyes on the floor, she was guided through the boisterous interior.

She couldn’t say exactly where she was being led, nor did she know how she was supposedly going to acquire any bits, but she kept her lips glued shut. If or when her Mistress decided to explain herself, she’d get the answers she sought. It wasn’t until they’d passed the dance floor and booths of the cavernous central chamber, moving into a small hallway, did she lift her head.

“Second stall,” Vinyl intoned, nodding to a doorway on her right. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

Citi opened her mouth to ask what the mare had meant, but she caught herself. Nodding slowly, taking some solace in the fact that her she-stud wouldn’t be too far away, she walked through the doorway and found herself in what appeared to be a run-of-the-mill bathroom. A number of urinals lined the wall, followed by three toilet stalls, with sinks and mirrors sitting opposite.

As she moved deeper, towards her appointed alcove, she slowed to a halt. The realization that she was clearly in a stallions’ restroom had been odd enough, since she typically used the facilities for little mares nowadays, but seeing her appointed spot was what ultimately tipped her off. The walls flanking the next-to-last cubicle each had a large, tape-lined glory hole.

Her mind reeled, grappling with the concept of anonymously servicing a total stranger. There was no other explanation to be given to what was expected of her. She’d been told she was going to make her Mistress some bits, had been ushered into a male bathroom, and been told to go to the one stall which harbored a pair of openings for people, ponies or not, to thrust their dicks through - still, as jarring as the revelation was, she couldn’t deny how hot the concept was.

Though she’d only ever fooled around with one other guy before - her childhood friend Nox - the notion of serving large, preferably imposing males was certainly an appealing one. Not because she was dissatisfied with Vinyl, but because it would be a delectably different change of pace. To have a muscular, virile stallion push her down and have his way with her was, to her shame, a captivating thought, and she had fantasized about such an event on numerous occasions.

She’d long ago abandoned the vestigial dregs of her masculinity, embracing her role as a subservient, cock-hungry sissy. Truth be told, it didn’t matter whom was using her, so long as she was able to worship and please them with her mouth, supple tits, or exquisitely succulent ass. In every conceivable way, from her neatly pedicured feet to her lusciously styled and dyed mane, she was a sexual war machine.

Where once she had been a relatively lackluster stallion, now she stood as a paragon of sensuality. Her bust easily dwarfed most mares’ racks, and her ass almost always drew attention, yet those were but two of her defining features. She’d relearned how to walk, swaying her ample hips with every step, and even her voice had become soft and girlish - not that she was complaining. For all intents and purposes, she was better than the average female.

Her little clit was perpetually locked away, relegated to being little more than a decoration, and there was no chance of knocking her up - well, not actually knocking her up. She often imagined being impregnated by her mate, and the notion of such a scandalous occurrence often pushed her over the edge, but she knew that was impossible. Shaking her head, feeling her miniscule prick struggle against its confines, she stepped into the stall, closed the door behind herself, and seated herself on the toilet.

She presumed that Vinyl would be drumming up business for her, likely pointing prospective patrons to the bathroom while gathering their donations, yet she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. Left to her thoughts, hearing a sound of approaching footfalls, her ears perked up. Either she was about to get her first client, or someone was coming to relieve themselves.

Tracking the sound, listening to the interloper drawing closer and closer, she peeked through the glory hole on her left. A second passed before she finally got a look at him, and what a him it was. Though she was only able to see a portion of his body, what with the relatively small portal being at waist level, she could immediately tell two things - he was not a pony, and he was big.

The downy feathers on his sculpted abdomen, clawed hands, and steady clack clack clack of his taloned feet left little room for doubt, she was about to get her first taste of a griffon. Her face lay plastered against the partition, as she watched him reach for his waistband. She’d seen a number of the avians in porn before, and while out and about, but she’d never experienced any sort of intimacy with one - that was until that moment.

Unfastening his belt, and unzipping his fly, the anonymous love-bird revealed his tool. Wholly dissimilar to a stallion or dickmare’s equipment, his long, tapered length had a spear-like tip, small nubs along the shaft, and was a brilliant crimson color. Gazing longingly at his semi-rigid shaft, feeling her mouth beginning to water, she waited for him to take the first move.

Knock Knock Knock-Knock Knock

“So I heard you could help me out with this,” he intoned, turning to fully face the opening.

Enthusiastically nodding, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t see her, Citi cleared her throat. “Y...yes, Sir.”

“Good, because I’m kinda pent up,” he grunted.

Shuffling forward, he guided his cock and fuzzy nuts through the hole. It took everything she had not to inhale his endowment, even if it was moderately sized, but she managed to rein herself in. Her first time with a griffon should be special, whether it was with a stranger or not, so she leaned to the side, pressed her snout to the root of his package, and deeply inhaled through her nose.

The scent was remarkable, a far departure from anything she’d smelled before, yet it was far from unappealing. His aroma was sharp, almost predatory, and held a distinctly masculine note. Lifting a hand to delicately fondle his coin purse, she gave his member a tender kiss - after all, it would be rude for a mare not to introduce herself. Lowering her head ever so slightly, bringing her lips to the head of his cock, she opened her maw.

Having no experience with servicing someone through a glory hole, she quickly discovered two of the drawbacks; not only could she not see her partner, but she was left to do nearly all the work herself. Undeterred, yet annoyed that he couldn’t appreciate her outfit, she was stricken with an idea. Withdrawing, she slipped from the toilet.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought about it before, but she had a perfectly good pair of tits she could use on him. Squatting down, placing her weight on her heels, she brought her formidable bust to bear. As she sandwiched his hardening shaft between her massive melons, squeezing her bosoms together with her arms, she stroked him off with her breasts.

“Bet you wish you had a girlfriend with tits like this,” she haughtily chuckled, feeling his dick twitch.

“Fuck, those are your tits?” he blurted. “I thought that was your ass for a second.”

The complement brought a smile to Citi’s face, even though the guy couldn’t see it. Slowly raising and lowering her torso, effectively giving the dude a tit-job, she dipped her head. The tip of his length just cleared the top of her cleavage, protruding from her rack, which meant there was one other thing she could do to help the situation. Wrapping her lips around his glans, teasing it with her tongue, she gave herself a taste.

As she hummed around his shaft, two things struck her; for starters, he either hadn’t bathed in some time or he had a remarkably piquant flavor - secondly, the texture of his tool was wonderfully exotic. The flesh covering his length was remarkably soft and slick, likely because it was housed in a sheath most of the time, yet she wasn’t bothered in the slightest - if anything, he spurred her onward. Lovingly lapping at the tip of his shaft, while stroking him with her chest, she closed her eyes and relished the new experience.

It wasn’t until a solid minute or two had passed until she decided to change tactics, eager to show off yet another of her skills - that and giving a tit-job through a wall really wasn’t the easiest thing to pull off. Sinking to her knees, bringing her muzzle to the proffered dong, she leaned in and slipped him into her muzzle.

Using her chest to get someone off was all well and good, if only for a warmup, but she couldn’t help herself from blowing him to finish. It was almost as if her throat had become an erogenous zone, though she couldn’t fully explain it. She’d always had a bit of an oral fixation, even before she’d met her Mistress, but her time with Vinyl had turned the interest into something bordering an addiction.

Bobbing her head, effortlessly gliding the griffon’s cock into her awaiting gullet, she massaged his barbed length with her tongue. The little nubs dotting his shaft were interesting, neither extraordinarily soft nor too hard, and she wondered how they’d feel diving in and out of her backdoor. Continuing to fondle his balls with one hand, while she bobbed her head from side to side, she reached between her legs and to her pucker.

The swimsuit she wore was a mockery of clothing, failing to cover more than her nipples and caged little clit, and it did nothing to conceal her ass. The slender fabric between her generous backside was essentially a thong, resting against her pronounced and remarkably soft cunt. Running her fingers over the donut-like ring pussy, feeling a shiver of excitement, she thrust two digits into herself.

Just because she was blowing someone didn’t mean she couldn’t get herself off. Rubbing her oversized and hyper-sensitive prostate, she groaned around the avian’s shaft. She’d long ago learned that it was perfectly fine for mares like herself to masturbate while worshiping a stud - as such, she did just that. Shamelessly fingering herself, working the guy’s tool like the seasoned dick-milker she was, she failed to take note of another pair of footsteps drawing nearer.

“You gonna suck on this or what?” a voice blared, catching Citi’s ear.

Twisting her head, but taking care to keep the griffon in her snout, she peeked over her shoulder and discovered someone else had joined them. Her eyes widened, seeing what had to be a diamond dog’s knotted schlong emerge through the second glory hole. The knotted root, vivid color, slender tip, and furred groin of her newfound guest set her heart racing, but not as much as his size.

While the griffon wasn’t what she’d consider small, being somewhat larger than average, the canine cock looked to be nearly as long as her biggest sex toy. Peering at the bulbous base of the newcomer’s dick, knowing full well that it would get larger when he came, eyed her surroundings and did some quick mental math. If she was right, and she prayed she was, she may be able to kill two birds with one stone - metaphorically speaking.

Rearing back, yet keeping the avian’s member in her muzzle, she shuffled back and got to her feet. The stall wasn’t all that wide, giving her perilously little room to maneuver, but that was actually a blessing. As she stood, remaining bent over, she slid her generous rump up the opposite partition and towards the awaiting dog dick.

She would have stopped to tell the canine what she was doing - then again, she didn’t want to disrupt the blowjob she was giving. Slowly, carefully, her buns glided over the wall, until they nestled against the base of the hound’s hog. Fortunately for her, the diamond dude pulled back, clearing the portal and allowing her to get into position.

Sandwiched between the pair of dividers, she raised her waist to the second opening and eagerly waited. Judging from the pleased grunts and heavy breaths of the griffon, it wouldn’t be long until her little love bird popped, so she focused on bringing him to finish. Feeling the canine, who she affectionately thought of as Rex, prod at her tush, sinking between her buns and towards her needy hole, she leveled every ounce of her considerable fellating skills to work.

Vacuuming on the backstrokes, mopping the griffon’s shaft with her pouting lips, she ravished her feathered lover’s cock like it was her job - then again, it kind of was her job. Even if she wasn’t concerned about the money she was making, she felt certain that Vinyl would appreciate the extra bit of income. As she gently kneaded the pair of downy balls, feeling them beginning to tense up, she decided to finish him off.

Pressing her nose to the wall, getting as much of his dick in her muzzle as she could manage, she theatrically gagged. While she couldn’t speak for him, she knew that some studs, including her precious Vinyl, reveled in having her choke on their endowment, and so she did just that. Lightly coughing and sputtering, hearing a muted groan from across the partition, her plan worked perfectly.

A small torrent of spunk rushed through his pulsing shaft and down her gullet, although she wasn’t able to enjoy it. Just as the griffon had begun to blow his load, the canine behind her plunged into her rear. Fully used to the sensation of being penetrated by the battering ram-like head of a stallionhood, the feeling of having Rex plunge into her ass was downright heavenly.

Gulping down the griffon’s spunk, being sure to wring every delectable drop of seed from his throbbing length, she slammed her ass against the opposite wall. Be damned if she was gonna half-ass getting plowed by somebody, regardless of who it was. As she clenched around his length, wholly unable to impede his progress, a bead of pre-cum oozed from her chastity cage.

“Thanks for the hummer, slut,” the griffon murmured, hauling his softening length from her snout.

As abruptly as the avian had begun, having nonchalantly expected immediate service, he departed. If Citi hadn’t started fucking herself on the canine’s sublimely shaped member, she would have complained or asked her unnamed partner to come back - that being said, she was enjoying herself too much. Then free to have a bit of fun, and concentrate on pleasuring Rex, she didn’t realize she was getting another suitor until it was too late.

Having turned her head, watching her ass ripple as it impacted against the partition, she was caught off guard by something thick and hot slapping against her cheek. The unmistakable fragrance of a stallionhood struck her like a gong, alerting her to what had stricken her before she could even see it. Instinctively turning and dropping her jaw, she popped the horse cock into her mouth and started sucking.

It didn’t matter if her newest participant was a stallion or a dickmare - the only thing she cared about was stuffing her gob with the deliciously thick shaft protruding from the portal. She’d choked herself on Vinyl’s marecock more times than she could count, but that didn’t make the moment of pleasuring a fellow equine any less enjoyable. There was something simply magical about slurping on a stallionhood, and so she set upon the pony with gusto.

Juggling two partners at the same time wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but her determination, enthusiasm, and downright whorish nature allowed her to handle the task - if only just. Fully bent over, with one dick in her ass and one in her muzzle, she swayed between the two partitions. While it was a bit unfortunate that she couldn’t fully fixate on either of her anonymous admirers, the sheer excitement of being used as a sex-toy by strangers more than made up for it.

Back and forth, forward and back, her body seesawed in the tiny stall. The rhythmic pounding of the canine’s hips against the wall made it clear enough that one of her devotees was getting into it, stoking the raging fires of her passion. Leaving her clit to slaver pre to the tiled floor, she pawed at one hanging, udder-like tit.

Keeping track of time wasn’t the first thing on her mind, considering she was effectively spit-roasting herself between two unknown paramours, but it wasn’t long before Rex started hammering into her. Reflexively altering her tactics, jamming her backside against the opening he was desperately trying to breed her through, she let him go wild. Sure enough, after a few fleeting moments of having him batter her well-used backdoor, he knotted her.

The sensation of having something the size of an orange pop into her ass nearly pushed her over the edge, but feeling the bulbous root of his dick swell to the size of the grapefruit did her in. Whimpering aloud, momentarily losing focus, her climax was punctuated by the stallion nearly hilting himself in her snout. Her eyes watered while thin, impotent seed sputtered from her cage, and she actually gagged on the pistoning dick in her throat as she fought to remain standing. 

It may have been her imagination, but it sure as hell felt like the seed flooding into her depths was several degrees hotter than anything she’d experienced before. The canine’s bestial snarls and growls sent her heart fluttering, while the pony who’d taken to rutting her muzzle thoughtlessly continued using her. It was a magical moment, on par with anything Vinyl had done with or to her, and it kindled a hitherto undiscovered fetish - to be viewed as something less than a person.

Forcing her body to obey her, she shoved her face to the divide. Though she’d had a momentary lapse of control, brought on by her climax, she was not about to slack on her duties. Fortunately for her, the dog tied to her ass wouldn’t be that much of an issue, seeing as how his erupting dick was trapped inside her tush. With one of the two dealt with, she swiftly composed herself and fervently fellated the stallionhood swabbing her throat.

“Hope you ain’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere for a while, bitch,” Rex chuckled, flexing his still-cumming length, “cause it ain’t gonna go soft ‘til you got a litter in you.”

Citi’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, she moaned around the pony’s cock, and a dribble of watery jizz oozed from her clit, as she heard the diamond dog’s words. One of the benefits of servicing two studs anonymously was that, for all they knew, they were actually getting off to a mare. Thrashing her tongue from side to side, taking sips of air when she was able, she silently wondered if the canine genuinely thought his load was headed for a defenseless, fertile womb.

With Rex content to stay put, waiting for his knot to shrink to a manageable size, the stallion or dickmare she was sucking off took the lead. Much like his predecessor, the pony took to banging his hips against the wall. Content to let the unnamed equine have their way with her, immeasurably pleased with her performance thus far, Citi peeked over to the door of her confines.

Much to her shock, she spotted at least two pairs of feet standing idly outside the stall. With only the cuffs of their pants, socks, and sneakers visible, it was anyone’s guess as to whom or what was waiting their turn, but that was part of the thrill of the situation. She was there to serve as an outlet for anyone and everyone’s frustrations, so long as they could spare whatever Vinyl was charging, and she was quickly warming to the role.

“You - Nnnph - want it down your throat or on your face?” a decidedly masculine voice huffed.

Feeling him starting to flare, Citi pulled back, grabbed the base of his shaft, and unsheathed him from her gullet. “Paint me, Daddy!”

While having a second piping-hot deposit of spunk in her stomach wasn’t a bad idea, being slathered in foal-batter was too good of an opportunity to pass up. As she cranked his shaft, while keeping her mouth expectantly open, she stared down his length. He wasn’t nearly as big as Vinyl, nor was the diamond dog or griffon, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy having his creamy goodness splash over her - still, a part of her hoped that she’d get at least one exceedingly well-hung guest.

While the stallion grunted and blew his hot, exceedingly thick load over her face, getting most of it into her awaiting maw, she closed her eyes and savored the flavor. The poor guy must have been pretty pent up, or possibly just naturally productive, because his output was downright obscene. Continuing to jack him off, until he began to withdraw, she gave the bloated head of his tool a parting kiss and giggled.

“Thanks for the deposit, stud muff-ffFFuck!” she croaked, as the canine suddenly pulled his swollen knot from her behind.

Though she couldn’t see it, she sure as hell felt his cum drooling from her gaped, winking hole. As badly as she would have liked to reach back and feel himself, seeing just how much damage Rex had done, she kept her derriere pushed firmly against the wall. If she moved too much, someone might take note of his miniscule package. Staying still, waiting for the next participants to talk in and take their turns with her, a commotion caught her ear.

“Gorma sick of waiting,” a deep, angry voice raged.

Spotting one of her awaiting visitors flee, while a second stepped aside, Citi gulped. Whoever or whatever was stomping towards her stall sounded big as hell and none too pleased, judging what sure as shit sounded like a wrathful titan storming nearer. Seeing a pair of gargantuan hooves appear beneath the gap of her refuge, and the tips of two horns swing into view from above, her blood turned to ice.

“Gorma smash,” the goliath continued, as two beefy hands grabbed hold of the door, “NOW!”

With a sickening crunch of rent metal and hardened plastic, her sanctuary was breached. Like a deer in the headlights, it was all she could do to stare up at the biggest, burliest yak she’d ever seen. Her eyes wandered down his utterly gargantuan frame, drinking in his features, while he leered down at her through his thick, rust-red bangs.

With shoulders wider than the stall’s width, and horns nearly scraping against the ceiling, it was a wonder he’d been able to fit into the restroom at all. Every part of the bovine was almost inconceivably big, from tree-like thighs to his mammoth chest and arms, explaining why the other patrons had either fled or made way for him. As Citi’s gaze moved down his skin-tight tank top, past his six-pack abs and to his groin, her jaw nearly hit the floor - protruding from the bottom of his shorts was the unimaginably monumental head of his flaccid dick.

“Gorma pay nice lady outside,” he groused, snorting frustratedly. “Now Gorma fuck pretty mare…”

Wondering how in the hell he was even supposed to fit within the cubicle, unable to find her voice, she promptly figured out just what his plans were. Pushing his hands to the walls on either side of her, the big bastard literally destroyed the stall’s partitions. Now with more than enough room to maneuver, and having scared off any other would-be clients, he trudged forward and thrust a finger at his crotch.

“Do good,” he rumbled, while his hardening dick struggled against the flimsy fabric of his trunks, “or else…”

Nodding and licking her lips, Citi eased herself to the cum-slickened floor and crawled towards the colossus. While she was definitely uneasy about his size, strength, and apparent disregard for the destruction of property, there was no denying how aroused she was by the prospect of worshiping someone who dwarfed her in stature and power. The servile portions of her brain seized control, all but forcing her to obey him.

Kneeling before him, she reverently extended her arms and began to disrobe his lower half. As she unfastened his belt and unzipped his fly, moving faster with every fleeting second, she got her first whiff of what he was packing. His smell was, in a word, overpowering, but not nearly as captivating at the titanic swell of his endowment and immense balls. Dragging his shorts down his muscular thighs, unveiling his immense equipment, the breath hitched in her throat.

There weren’t many who could boast about having a bigger dick than her precious Vinyl, but she’d be damned if the yak didn’t have the she-stud beat in both length and girth. His nuts were nearly the size of basketballs, holding what had to be upwards of a gallon’s worth of cum, and his tool nearly looked like a third leg. Looming over the prostrate mockery of a stallion, heedless or uncaring about the pony’s caged clit, he impatiently waited to be served.

There was no way Tartarus Citi would be able to suck the guy off unless he somehow managed to unhinge his jaw. But that didn’t mean she was completely out of options. Her hands caressed and stroked his impossibly large length, tenderly massaging him, while she dragged her tongue over the sweaty, musky appendage. She almost felt unworthy to touch the mammoth’s monstrous member, almost, yet that didn’t stop her from fawning over him like a depraved sycophant.

Bending at the waist, she brought her mouth to the yak’s prodigious cock-head. As she kissed and licked her way over his glans, doing what she could to stroke him, her mind grew clouded with lust. He was going to fuck her, pin her to a wall and likely leave her ruined for days or more, yet all she could feel was excitement. Closing her eyes, with his mere presence overpowering all of her senses, she made out with his tool.

His taste was bitter and salty, the musk he gave off was so strong that it was nearly foul, and his shaft was so heavy, so utterly huge that gravity forced it to hang towards the floor. The other males who’d come to visit Citi had expected her to relieve their sexual tension, but Gorma was different - she yearned for him to unleash himself upon her. After a scant few moments passed, incapable of controlling herself any longer, she broke the kiss and peered up at him.

“P...please,” she whispered, cautiously getting to her feet, “I w...want - no, I need you to rut me…”

Turning her back to him, leaning over the toilet, she swung her tail to the side, arched her back, and braced her legs. She wasn’t sure how interested he was, since her chaste package hung between her succulent thighs, so she offered a silent prayer that he would have his way with her. Unwilling to look back, lest she see a look of disdain on his face, she silently waited for him to make a move.

“Pony too short,” he barked. “Gorma fix.”

“Wha - Eeep!” Citi squeaked, as she was effortlessly plucked from the ground.

It took her a second to figure out what he was doing, but she swiftly put the pieces together. One of his hands was wrapped around her midsection, holding her as if she weighed nothing at all, while he lifted his dick and leveled it at her backside. While she was lowered to his meaty pillar, feeling the unbelievably giant tip of his length grind between her buns, she tried and failed to ready herself for the herculean trial.

Even if she’d had more time to relax herself, heaps of lube, and a protracted stretching warmup session, nothing could have prepared her for him. The yak simply forced her down his shaft, impaling her without a shred of concern, as her whorish howling cut through the air. She’d joked about how Vinyl rearranged her insides before, but this wasn’t a joke - she could actually feel her innards being repositioned by the elephantine intrusion.

Hanging her head, peering past her swaying tits, she watched the imprint of his cock move up her abdomen and to the bottom of her rib cage. As frightening as the sight was, it was easily one of the hottest things she’d ever seen - that and the sensation of having something so massive inside her was indescribable. Slowing to a halt, he shuffled backwards, rested his shoulders against the wall, and started using her like an onahole.

Each plunge drove the wind from her, literally forcing the air from her lungs, and caused her to rhythmically groan. There was nothing she could do to help or hinder him, being too small and far too weak to accomplish anything with the titan, so he pounded into her without the slightest bit of restraint. Her arms and legs hung limply, ropes of saliva dangled from her lips, and what little cum was left in her pathetic little nuts was forced out of her, as she was ravaged by the colossus. 

The experience walked the razor’s edge between amazingly wondrous and horrifying, knowing full well that she may not survive the encounter. It should have been impossible for someone her size to be railed out by an actual giant, and nobody with any common sense would have dared try something so ridiculous. Yet there she was being screwed by a dick nearly the size of her leg. It wasn’t until the milk leaking from her breasts whetted the yak’s fingers did he slow.

“Gorma thirsty,” he rumbled, spinning her around to face him.

Lifting her, yet keeping what felt like at least a foot of dick in her ass, he craned his head forward, popped her right tit into her mouth, and started to nurse. The added stimulation made her climax on the spot, though what little spunk she had was long since expended. Raising and lowering her, moving faster and faster with every passing second, he greedily drank down her milk.

Citi’s climaxes melded into one another, with one bleeding into the next, sundering her reality. She genuinely couldn’t say if she’d been getting screwed for days on end or a few fleeting seconds - either way, it felt like a small eternity. Weaving in and out of consciousness, only vaguely aware that the bull was rutting her with increasing speed and force, his orgasm struck her like a bomb.

His primal roar momentarily brought her back to the waking world, before he erupted within her. The flood of seed rushing through her guts fractured her mind and ruined her body, filling her with more cum than should have been possible. Her gut ballooned outward, making her appear as if she was in the final phase of carrying triplets, as the seeming endless tide of his essence continued to flow.

The pressure of his deposit, coupled with the nearly three whole loads she’d received beforehand, was too much for her. Her head lolled to the side, as syrupy jizz cascaded out of her nose and mouth and pattered to the tile beneath her. It was only then, serving as a condom filled to the breaking point, that her perception of the world faded entirely. Passing out in his grasp, the last thing she remembered was hearing him snorting and growling above her.

…

“Hey,” a voice called, seconds before something stuck Citi’s cheek. “Come on, I know you ain’t dead.”

Opening one eye, she peered upward and saw a beaming, familiar face. At some point or another, probably once he’d finished with her, the yak must have set her on the ground and departed, because she awoke in a pool of cool cum. As she shakily lifted one arm, pressing her palm against the floor, she started pushing herself up, collapsed, and laid still. The most she could manage to do was breathe, so she remained still.

“Gotta say, you put on one hell of a show,” Vinyl snickered.

The dickmare ticked away at her phone, before turning the screen around toward her. Much to Citi’s surprise, it appeared as though her time with the yak had been recorded. Shifting her focus to her lover, she weakly coughed and cleared her throat.

“C...can we go home now?” she rasped.

Vinyl nodded as she stooped down and scooped her up. “Yeah, you’ve had enough fun for tonight. Just don’t ask me to fuck you for a few days. I want that ass nice and snug for Mama - alright?”

Citi nodded, as she was carried out of the demolished bathroom and through the club. She knew she must have looked terrible, practically naked and covered from head to toe in cum, but she wasn’t bothered in the slightest. If the patrons wanted a real look at her, or possibly more than a look, they could pay her Mistress for it later…
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clutching a bouquet of flowers before herself, Citi stared at her reflection in open awe. It had been nearly two years since she’d first met Vinyl, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Her big-dicked lover had changed her in more ways than she dared to count, stripping away her masculinity and revealing who she was supposed to be, and everything had led to this moment.

Her eyes wandered from her luscious, pouting lips and down to her chest, bringing a smile to her face. The dress she wore was like some slatternly mockery of a wedding gown, failing to fully cover mountainous bust, supple ass, or her nethers, although she wasn’t bothered by her immodest attire in the slightest. This was her day, hers and Vinyl’s, so she was free to wear as much or as little as she pleased.

Looking lower down her body, past the areola peeking out of the top of her dress, she smirked down at her groin. The cage locked to her dainty little package glistened in the cool light and was uncovered by any sort of undergarment, so anyone who looked close enough would be able to see it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken the thing off, outside of when she took showers or baths - even then, on the rare occasions when her clit was free, it only served as a pitiful reminder of who and what she used to be.

It was almost funny to consider she’d used to have a stallionhood. Where once a respectable length of cock rested, now lay a shriveled, completely impotent nub of sensitive flesh. The most her clit could do was ache and leak pre-cum like a broken faucet, but that didn’t bother her. Since her big-dicked lover had shown her who she really was, opening her eyes and putting her in her place, she got more than enough sexual gratification from the use of her real sex organ.

Bringing one hand behind herself, she sank her fingers into one immense, soft cheek of her ass. The soft, bloated ring that was her pucker winked at her touch, craving attention and causing her to giggle. Her backdoor had developed considerably throughout her relationship with Vinyl, metamorphosing from a taught, useless hole to a well-trained pussy that could accommodate even the most intimidating stallionhood - heck, she’d even been double-penetrated and fisted a few times! She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of herself or the things she could accomplish, having transcended from an uninteresting stallion to an utter bombshell, and she’d stack her aesthetic and sexual prowess against any mare in Equestria.

She turned, looked over her shoulder, and flipped the back of her dress to inspect her rear. It wasn’t uncommon for her to catch stallions - real stallions eyeing her like a prime cut of meat, undressing her with their eyes and undoubtedly fantasizing about all the lewd things they’d do to her in bed, but the most they could do was look – well, unless Vinyl invited them to have some fun with her. While there were a few times she’d been brought to glory holes or seedy bars and whored out by her mate, either because the dickmare had been bored or because she’d wanted some extra spending money, she knew who she belonged to.

Wheeling back around to face her reflection, she leaned forward, set her flowers down and plucked a tube of neon-pink lipstick from the vanity. Her role, her very purpose for being, was simple; she was a convenient pair of warm, eager holes for her lover, and it was her duty to look as enticing as she could wherever she went. She really didn’t mind being the personal sex-toy for Vinyl, not for the least of which reasons being she no longer had to worry about anything but serving her Mistress, which was one reason why she’d decided to make things official.

Her lipstick, mascara, eye liner, and blush were applied with practiced ease, elevating her beauty to the nth degree - sure, she may have looked like a slatternly mockery of a bride, but that was precisely the point. Though normal mares got married and committed themselves to their lover before an audience of their friends and families, that’s not who or what she was. She barely considered herself a pony, relishing the objectified way Vinyl viewed and treated her, and that’s exactly how it was supposed to be.

As she grabbed the bouquet she’d placed on the vanity, she suppressed an excited shiver. She didn’t think that her relationship would change much after today, yet knowing she’d fully committed herself before a crowd was thrilling. Unable to contain her enthusiasm, she scampered over to the curtained doorway and peeked outside.

The sun blazed brightly overhead, there was a subtle breeze, and the temperature was just warm enough to make her lack of attire comfortable, although her interest lay with the dozens of ponies trotting to or already seated in the rows of seats placed before an altar. She could see a few familiar faces, namely Vinyl’s friends and a few family members, but the overwhelming majority of attendees were total strangers - not like that mattered all that much. Since learning that the event had been advertised in several depraved circles, with tickets being sold, she’d had no doubt that there’d be a considerable audience.

The good news was that each guest had to buy a ticket, was required to bring a gift, and there’d be plenty of eyes on her to fuel her growing exhibitionistic side - the bad news, if it could even be called that, was that she had perilously little information for how things were going to play out. She’d only been to a single wedding before, back when she’d been a colt, and she wasn’t sure about the ceremony itself. Outside of knowing about the vows, the reception, and the cutting of a cake, what lay ahead of her was a complete mystery.

Presuming she’d be called upon when the time was right, she retreated from view and went back to the vanity. Left to wait, her thoughts drifted to her lover. It would be impossible for her to tell what Vinyl was going to wear for the occasion, considering she’d look just as stunning in a gown as she would a suit and tie, but she’d find out soon enough - she hoped. As her mind wandered to her soon-to-be betrothed, she ground her thighs together.

Minutes passed in the relative silence of her tent, the only noises coming from the idle chatter outside, until the curtain was pulled open. She looked over expectantly, hoping to see her mare, but was disappointed to spot a mare she’d never seen before. Paying little heed to what she was wearing, the young lady smiled over at her and nodded.

“It’s time,” the stranger tranquilly intoned.

Right on cue, the soft sound of music drifted to Citi’s ears. Bolting to her feet, she brushed herself off and gave herself a final once-over. From the stiletto heels on her feet to her neatly styled mane, she was as perfect as she was going to get - unfortunately, her excitement grew tinged with anxiety. Though she thought she looked fine, she was nervous about meeting her mate’s expectations.

Stopping just before the curtain, she drew a deep breath to sooth her frazzled nerves, held it for a moment, and slowly exhaled. This was it, the moment she’d been dreaming of for weeks on end, and there was no turning back. Holding her head high and clutching the flowers to her chest, just between her bosoms, she walked out of the tent and into view.

The music shifted as soon as she appeared, transitioning from a relaxing ambiance to the hallmark tune of Here Comes the Bride. Her pride welled with every step she took. Every guest at the event stood and looked over at her, yet their expressions were anything but heartwarming. Lecherous smirks and hushed whispers cut through the throng, as what had to be nearly a hundred ponies ogled with sinful intent - nevertheless, the attention made her feel tingly all over.

It wasn’t until she’d passed nearly half of the seats, moving at a metered pace, that a towering figure crossed from a nearby tent and to the altar. Tall and powerful, clad in a form-fitting tuxedo, the pony smiled over at her and extended a hand in her direction. She saw Vinyl on a daily basis, excluding when they were separated because of the dickmare’s job as a DJ and music producer, yet the sight of the titan all gussied up made her weak in the knees.

As she placed one foot in front of the other, her eyes never strayed from her lover. In a word, Vinyl was breathtaking. Her mate typically wore comfortable attire, usually just shorts and a t-shirt, but that wasn’t the case this time. Towering over everyone in attendance, done up like an honest to goodness groom, the colossal dickmare smirked over at her and winked.

“As enchanting as ever,” Vinyl hummed, looking her up and down.

Coming to a halt opposite of her lover, Citi blushed and averted her gaze. If this had been any other day or any other event, regardless of who was around, she would have done anything but act demure. Glancing down at the giant’s crotch, spotting the unmistakable imprint of her mate’s package, she felt a bead of pre-cum slip from her cage and down to her coin purse.

Her reservations had been whittled away over her time with Vinyl, making modesty an abstract, almost unfathomable concept, yet she remained where she stood and restrained herself. There’d be plenty of time to shower the dickmare with her affection later, possibly during the reception if she was given the go-ahead, but that could wait - for the time being, she had to be a good little mare and behave herself. Tearing her eyes off her lover’s groin, she looked to the side and watched a pony sauntering in their direction.

She recognized Octavia in an instant, yet the sight of the dominatrix bedecked in what appeared to be a perverse charade of a minister’s raiment gave her a moment for pause. With nothing more than a stole draped around her neck, the length of white cloth being the only thing covering her breasts, the mare’s revealing garb rivaled her own. Walking over and stopping at the dias directly between the mismatched couple, she quirked a brow and placed her hands on the podium.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, we’re gathered here today for a most momentous occasion,” Octavia began. “Please be seated.”

Facing her betrothed, as giddy as a schoolfilly, Citi held Vinyl’s hands and gazed into the woman’s eyes. She was vaguely aware that Octavia was talking, officiating the ceremony and waxing poetic about love, lust, and how it was a mare’s place to serve her stud, yet she scarcely paid it any mind. Though it was a juncture she never thought she’d find herself at, adorned like a whorish bride before a big, beautiful dickmare, she was overjoyed beyond words.

“Ahem -” Octavia coughed, shaking her from her thoughts. “The rings, if you would…”

Citi turned her head and followed the mare’s gaze, realizing the officiant was looking to her right, and started when she saw a pair of ponies standing just to her side. Completely covered in black latex and led by what she could only presume was one of Octavia’s dominatrix companions, a stallion and mare stood and presented a pair of ring boxes. She would have been unnerved by such an unorthodox development, had it not fit the theme of her wedding flawlessly.

Taking the lead, Vinyl reached over and plucked a small box from one of the gimp’s outstretched hands. “Citi - gosh, I didn’t think I’d ever be saying this,” she chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck, “but I really do want you to be mine. I’ve had fun with a fair share of stallions and mares in the past, but there’s something about you that always brings a smile to my face. If there was ever a pony on this planet who deserved this ring, it’s you…”

The breath hitched in Citi’s throat, her eyes teared up, and her lower lip quivered. In spite of the depravity around her, hearing such a sincere confession warmed the depths of her heart. Her place was by Vinyl’s side, serving as support and sexual relief, yet she’d accepted that long ago. As her lover opened the box and displayed a platinum band inset with a large diamond, she extended her hand and splayed her fingers.

“Will you be mine for now and forever?” Vinyl asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“I…I do…” Citi stammered, nearly choking up.

Vinyl smoothly slid the ring over her finger and beamed down at her, mirroring her happiness. She only gave herself a second to admire the piece of jewelry, knowing good and well that it must have cost a small fortune, before she shifted and took the box from her attending gimp’s palm. Having nearly forgotten about the vows, even though she’d spend days agonizing over what she’d say, she opened the little chest and only then remembered that she hadn’t bought a ring.

Her eyes widened and she stiffened, caught off guard when she recognized what she was holding wasn’t meant for a finger. She should have realized that something was wrong as soon as the latex-clad pony had presented the box, given that it was nearly triple the size of the one offered to Vinyl, yet she’d been so caught up with her emotions that she hadn’t given it any thought. Hewn of gold and studded with gemstones, the hefty band was more of a bangle than an actual ring.

With her thoughts racing, she came to a startling revelation. She hadn’t been given a regular ring because she wasn’t participating in a regular wedding. As she glanced at her lover’s crotch, the corners of her lips turned up. There was only one thing on Vinyl that was large enough to accommodate such a hefty piece of jewelry, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to fulfill her part of the vows properly.

She sank to her knees and reached out with a trembling hand. Seeing as how Octavia was virtually topless, there were a duo of latex-clad gimps acting as ring bearers, and she could easily be mistaken for a very immodest whore, it only made sense that the onlookers wouldn’t mind seeing what the groom had to offer. Deftly popping the button on Vinyl’s pants, she pulled down her lover’s fly and began to salivate.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d performed for an audience, and she’d bet her bottom bit that it wouldn’t be the last - still, seeing the dark flesh of the she-stud’s stallionhood made her forget about anyone or anything other than her mate. Regardless of where she was or whoever was around, she’d gleefully drop whatever she was doing to service Vinyl.

After slowly pulling the pants down the colossal dickmare’s legs, hoping the audience appreciated the gradual reveal as much as she did, she reverently wrapped her fingers around Vinyl’s shaft - well, she tried to wrap her fingers around Vinyl’s shaft. The fact of the matter was that her lover’s tool was simply too big to hold in one hand, but that was part of its terrifying appeal. Hefting the prodigious length ever so slightly, she brought the golden cock-ring to the tip of the giant’s dick.

The burnished metal contrasted wondrously against the dark flesh of Vinyl’s endowment and glimmered in the sunlight. Though she was well aware that the piece of jewelry was primarily ceremonial, meant to commemorate the occasion and to serve as a sign of their bond with one another, she had no doubt that it was fully functional. She smirked and guided the band up her mate’s shaft, past the tracing veins and over the thick medial ring, until it was seated around the trunk-like base of the woman’s cock.

Pausing, she looked up to Vinyl for guidance. While she was far from an expert at wedding etiquette, she was fairly certain that it wasn’t part of the ceremony to choke herself on her betrothed at the altar. Much to her pleasant surprise, her mate nodded and flashed a small smile at her. With nothing needing to be said, she leaned back, hefted the immense appendage, and closed her eyes.

Kissing one’s spouse was a tried and true part of any wedding, it was common sense, yet she hadn’t anticipated making out with a colossal dickmare’s stallionhood while she was getting married. Her tongue played over the fat, battering ram-like cock-head, she fondled her lover’s balls with her free hand, and she pulled her top down to fully reveal her huge, leaking udders. To Tartarus with it - since things had gone off the traditional rails as soon as she’d walked down the aisle, she saw no reason not to give everyone in attendance a bit of a show.

Bobbing her head and groaning around the mammoth tool, she smeared her lipstick upon her mate’s shaft. She’d definitely need to reapply her makeup before attending the reception, and she may need a shower as well, but that would be a concern for later. So long as she made Vinyl happy, she’d gladly put her wifely duties on display for any and all to see.

The intoxicating scent of musk filled her sinuses, the flavor of sweat and unwashed flesh blossomed on her palate, and she whimpered when a strong hand clutched the back of her head. It would have been impossible for her to say how many times she and Vinyl had fooled around, yet her enjoyment of serving the colossus never got old - on the contrary, like a fine cognac, it only got better with time. Quickly filling her lungs, she drove her head forward and sheathed the she-stud’s shaft in her gullet.

Her eyes watered slightly, causing her tears to carry mascara down her cheeks and to her jaw, yet she wasn’t crying out of discomfort - no, she was crying out of joy. While the ceremony wasn’t technically complete, not until they were declared husband and wife, she’d been looking forward to this day. Sleeping with her lover was all well and good, but sleeping with her betrothed was an electrifying concept.

With nearly half of Vinyl’s length buried in her face, she lowered both her hands and began playing with her tits. She had to milk herself a minimum of twice a day, typically first thing in the morning and then again before she went to bed each night, yet becoming aroused had a way of upping her productivity. Rich white cream ran down her fingers and pattered onto the carpet beneath her while she ravenously sucked the she-stud off.

She could have stayed where she was for ages, only slowing to get sips of air when she absolutely needed it, but it wasn’t meant to be. After several minutes passed, the hand on her head shifted and patted her cheek. Her eyes flew open and upward to Vinyl’s face and her movements drew to a halt in an instant.

“The ceremony’s not done, honey,” Vinyl chuckled, motioning for her to stand, “but I’ll let you get back to that later - that is, if you behave.”

Flying back and clearing her airway, Citi licked her lips and got to her feet. “Yes, Mistress.”

Eyeing the dickmare and busty femcolt, Octavia stepped back from the podium. “Since it’s painfully clear that you’re both ready to move things along, let’s wrap this up ~ shall we? Vinyl, do you take this little whore as your wife, to use and abuse, to turn out as you see fit, and to do your best to breed whenever the mood so strikes you?”

“Damn right I do,” Vinyl smugly answered.

Octavia nodded and swung her attention over to the untidy femcolt. “And do you - uh - what’s your name again?”

“Citi,” Citi serenely responded, unable to take her eyes off Vinyl’s face.

“Right, Citi,” Octavia muttered. “Do you, Citi, take Vinyl to be your husband, unquestioningly pledging your body to her, tending to her every need, and subjecting yourself to whatever lecherous desires she -”

“Yeah,” Citi interrupted, subconsciously reaching down to rub at her cage. “I’ll do anything for her.”

Extending an arm and hooking a finger under her chin, Vinyl lifted her muzzle. “Whenever I want?”

“Whenever, wherever, and with whoever,” Citi cooed, lowering a hand to pat the giant’s stallionhood.

“A bit uncouth, but I’ll excuse your impertinence this once,” Octavia tutted, lifting a piece of paper from the podium. “By the power granted to me by the City of Fillydelphia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Please sign on the appropriate lines, mail to the registrar of deeds office, and you’ll have your wedding certificates in the mail within fourteen business days. I wish you the best of luck with your marriage. You may now kiss the bride.”

Citi clamped her eyes shut and expectantly pursed her lips as recessional music started to play. She never would have guessed she’d be a blushing bride standing at an altar while awaiting a kiss from her monumental she-stud husband, yet she’d never been more elated. Seconds passed, the applause from the crowd dwindled, and she only reluctantly peeked up at her lover, apprehensive that something may be wrong, and watched the dickmare shy away.

“What are you…” she trailed off as Vinyl shook her head and reached into her shirt pocket.

“I know this isn’t exactly customary, but I wanted to do something special for you,” Vinyl hummed, sinking to one knee. “Come here for a sec.”

Doing as she’d been asked, Citi stepped forward. The sight of her lover pulling a key from her pocket compounded her confusion and left her mute. In abject silence, she lowered her gaze and remained still as the titan reached out, unlocked her chastity cage, and removed the contraption from her package.

“Don’t need this anymore,” Vinyl laughed, tossing the device over her shoulder.

The warm air against Citi’s freed clit felt odd and almost alien. She’d spent the better part of a year being locked, so having her chastity taken off so suddenly, and on the day of her wedding, left her nonplussed, yet that didn’t seem to matter to her mate. Fidgeting uncomfortably, unsure of what to do or what was going to happen, she gasped when the she-stud produced a new, even smaller cage.

With a gentleness that belied her massive size, Vinyl expertly fitted the device onto her. “Wanted to do something special for you, babe.”

Citi cocked her head to the side and stared down at the contraption. The cage was slightly smaller than the one she’d been wearing, imparting an even greater sense of snugness than she was used to, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. So far as she could see, leaning to her left then right to get a better look at the device, it was without any sort of lock.

“It doesn’t have a key?” she inquired, almost disappointed.

“Doesn’t need one,” Vinyl noted, standing back up and dusting her hands. “Check this out.”

As the unicorn’s horn flared to life, Citi felt a strange tingling sensation about her package. Purely out of instinct, assuming the cage had some magical element, she brought one hand to the cap of the cage and pulled. The chastity didn’t budge in the slightest, even when she gave it a hard tug, although she quickly noticed why. The seams of the metal disappeared, fusing the contraption into a single unit that was trapped to her equipment.

“And,” Vinyl snickered, “I can make it do this.”

With a snap of her fingers, the chastity cage shrank and compressed Citi’s clit. She he stifled a whimper, overwhelmed by the familiar feeling of discomfort and denial. She would have been more than content with just the wedding ring and the promise that she and Vinyl would be together forever, yet her lover had found a way to spoil her with the enchanted present.

Stepping out of her pants and kicking them to the side, leaving herself naked from the waist down, Vinyl began unbuttoning her shirt. “I really think you’ll like it. It cleans and prevents hair growth in the area, so you won’t have to worry about taking it off to shower or shave anymore!”

“I…I…” Citi sputtered, glancing between her clit’s new prison and her gradually stripping husband. “I love it.”

“I figured you would,” Vinyl hummed. “You might be a total whore and a cock-hound, but you’re my little whore and cock-hound ~ got it?”

Flinging the flowers into the crowd, heedless of who caught them, Citi clasped her hands together. “Of course I am!”

As thrilled as she’d been to attend the reception reception and be paraded around while holding her hubby’s hand, her raging libido eclipsed her more sensible desires. There was only one reason why Vinyl would be stripping down, and it wasn’t to mingle with guests and eat cake. As she turned toward the altar, stricken by inspiration, a coy grin split her muzzle.

“Mistress,” she purred, splaying her legs and flicking her tail to the side. “You want to show all these mares and gentle colts how much you love me?”

Before she’d finished speaking, she threw her arms back, grabbed her ass cheeks, and spread her buns. She may not have been completely naked, but anyone could see just how well-used and eager she was to consummate her marriage. Enticingly swaying her hips from side to side, she looked over her shoulder and shot a wink at the dickmare behind her.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Vinyl grunted, grabbing her dick and stepping up behind the buxom femcolt. “Hope you don’t mind trotting around looking like you’re carrying triplets.”

Citi rolled her hips back and tittered. It had been a bit frustrating to go nearly two full weeks without getting her brains fucked out by her stud, but the payoff was definitely going to be worth it. Shortly after they’d agreed to tie the knot, Vinyl had said she was going to save up for the event, abstaining from blowing a load until they were hitched. It was anyone’s guess as to if the dickmare had planned to rut her in front of the crowd, but she couldn’t care less about having an audience - as far as she was concerned, she’d be overjoyed to have a huge group of spectators watching her get bred.

Turning away and folding her arms on the podium, allowing her breasts to hang heavily from her chest, she braced her legs and readied herself for the inevitable. She’d adopted a regiment of keeping herself ready for action at any given time, downing a special potion each and every morning that left her interior clean as a whistle and lubricated. And this day, even though she was getting hitched, was no different. She would have been shocked if she hadn’t ended up getting her guts rearranged at some point or another, so it was as good of a time as any to get warmed up for her wedding night.

“Not quite the wedding cake I’d expected,” Vinyl laughed, slapping her wife’s ass, “but I’m not opposed to having an appetizer.”

“Appeti - Nnnnph!” Citi groaned as what could only be a big, thick tongue was drawn up from her coin purse to her backdoor.

It was very, very rare for Vinyl to eat her ass, which made the development all the more exhilarating. As she giggled with herself, pre-cum oozed from her cage. While it may not have been as intense as getting fucked, being rimmed by the she-stud reminded her how how lucky she was. Vinyl may have been rough almost all of the time, treating her like a living fleshlight, yet she had her tender moments.

Though she was too caught up with enjoying herself to check, it was almost a guaranteed certainty that several members of the audience had pulled out their phones to record the impassioned exchange. It wouldn’t be long until the video began circulating online, and she was made all the happier for it. Soon everyone would know who she belonged to, that she’d gotten married to the Vinyl Scratch, but that wouldn’t be until the ceremony was complete.

Vinyl eventually withdrew and rose to her full intimidating height behind her. “You ready?”

Recognizing the feeling of a very familiar cock-head press against her entrance, Citi nodded back at her lover. “For you, always…”

She pushed back as the dickmare thrust forward, embracing inch after inch of thick, wondrous stallionhood. Her mate didn’t relent until she felt a pair of weighty, cum-filled balls bump against her coin purse. Vinyl had seen something in her when they’d first met, somehow realizing that she was meant to be an attractive and eager plaything, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to repay her gratitude.

Moving in tune with the dickmare, she clenched her hole around Vinyl’s retreating shaft before bucking back to meet her lover’s next plunge. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, driving her to the very cusp of a climax, yet that wasn’t enough to keep her from moving. Months upon months of being used had forged her into an all but literal sex machine, giving her the strength and muscle memory to continue even if she passed out, so she gripped the podium tightly and put her body to work.

From an outsider’s perspective, the sight of the pair of newlyweds going at it was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Vinyl was a titan compared to Citi, towering a full head and shoulders above the buxom femcolt if they were standing side by side, and she had the endowment to match. Several of the spectators crept from their chairs, jockeying for positions to capture the action on their cameras, while the couple’s passion soared.

Vinyl’s thrusts were slow, steady, and remarkably deep, causing Citi’s abdomen to bulge outward from the immense intrusion. Her massive nuts swayed and repeatedly slapped against her wife’s caged clit, as the drumbeat of their colliding bodies filled the air. While there were bigger and more aggressive dickmares out in the world, many of whom had harems of sycophantic lovers for themselves, she was an impressive sight nonetheless.

Saliva crept down Citi’s chin, her eyelids fluttered, and pre-cum slung from her cage. In what felt like seconds, she’d been driven to the brink of what she could endure. No matter how many times Vinyl railed her out, the longest she could keep herself from cumming was five minutes on a good day. Throwing her head back and howling, hoping someone would capture her orgasm, she came and trembled from head to toe.

Increasing her pace by an order of magnitude, Vinyl grabbed her hips and began power-fucking her ass. Her blissful wails were a symphony, so loud and discordant that they could have drowned out the band that had been playing earlier, but that couldn’t be helped. She used to hold herself back when she was getting screwed, trying to stay quiet out of embarrassment, although that had stopped a long, long time ago.

“Yes,” she brayed, her head wrenched back as Vinyl pulled on her neatly styled mane. “Ruin me for everyone!”

“God, I - Mmmf - love when you beg,” Vinyl growled.

The praise, while subtle, was enough to make Citi’s orgasm rebound in mere seconds. Her clit and tiny balls flopped about uselessly at her groin, her backdoor was drawn out and stuffed back in with every plunge of Vinyl’s stallionhood, and milk dripped from her swaying bosoms. If ever there was a more perfect way to finish off her ceremony, this was it.

Vinyl stooped low, grabbed one of her legs, and pulled it upward. Everyone in attendance could have clearly seen what they were doing, but now her minuscule package was put on full display. She would have liked to think that the move had been purely for the good of those with recording equipment, adding an even more scandalous flare to the depraved scene, but it was so much more than that - it was to illustrate the dynamic between them.

Citi wasn’t a stallion, having lost any trace of her masculinity ages ago, but she wasn’t a true mare either. She was an avatar of perversion, the embodiment of carnality and a beacon to those who yielded to the sins of the flesh, and she wore her title with pride. Squealing out in delight, climaxing a second time, she needily milked her lover’s pistoning length.

It wasn’t long before she yielded to the nirvanic pleasure Vinyl afforded, surrendering herself completely. Against such a sexual titan, there was only so much she could do - sure, there were times when she would ride the dickmare cowgirl, and she loved worshiping the she-stud’s equipment, yet she had no real control. With her tits bouncing and spraying milk, singing a hedonistic symphony with her orgasmic cries, she struggled to remain conscious.

Like a machine, Vinyl went on pounding into her seemingly without end. She came until every drop of her impotent seed had been fucked from her body, convulsing with each dry-climax she had. The sensation was heaven incarnate, satiating her on a physical, mental, and even spiritual level, although she snapped out of her trance when she felt her lover starting to flare.

She tried to speak, to beg the dickmare to fill her, but she simply couldn’t form a coherent word. Rambling and whimpering like a mare possessed, she weakly clamped her aching, battered pucker around the she-stud’s monolith of a cock. Several intrepid souls had inched closer, and a few were even kneeling to either side of her, when her wish was ultimately granted.

Vinyl bellowed and draped herself over Citi’s back as she came. Draping herself over the femcolt’s back, holding the little mare tightly, she pumped what had to be at least a gallon of thick, virile foal-batter directly into her comparably diminutive mate. She’d done her part, she’d bred her wife right there at the altar, but she wasn’t done yet - not by a long shot.

Whimpering in glee, Citi stiffened when the dickmare bit her on the neck. Pain mingled with her ecstasy, giving her a final, cataclysmic orgasm, while her belly gurgled and began to bloat beneath her. If her distended gut and the fact that she’d been seen getting fucked hadn’t been enough to convey who she’d pledged herself too, the teeth marks on her tender flesh would let everyone know she was a claimed mare.

The lovers fell still and silent, basking in their pleasure for several minutes, until Vinyl began to move. Straightening up and inching back, the titan hauled her semi-rigid length from her wife’s abused ass. She only stopped when the tip of her length remained lodged in Citi, acting as a cork of sorts, before waving to a nearby mare with a camera.

“Hey, c’mere,” Vinyl croaked, waving the mare forward. “Get a good shot of this?”

The nameless mare nodded and leveled the lens at Citi’s stuffed hole as Vinyl pulled out. A waterfall of spunk coursed from the femcolt’s ass, pouring down her legs, coin purse, and clit, but she somehow remained standing. Though several of the stallions in attendance were clearly aroused by the spectacle, none of them made a move - not just because it would be rude to screw someone else’s bride at their wedding, but because none of them could ever dare to dream of satisfying her.

Stepping over to the podium, once she’d released her lover’s leg, Vinyl softly patted Citi’s face. “You still in there?”

“Uh…uh-huh…” Citi weakly replied.

“Wanna lick this clean?” the hulking she-stud hummed, lifting and smearing her cock against her wife’s face.

“In…in a second,” Citi rasped, pushing herself away and collapsing to the ground. Staring up at the dickmare, she drew her tongue over her lips. “L…let me eat your ass…”

Vinyl guffawed and shook her head, amused with the request. “Be my guest, baby.”

Seeing the titan turn and present her plot, Citi feebly got to her knees and buried her face in Vinyl’s muscular buns. The irony didn’t escape her - weddings were sealed with a kiss, so it only felt fitting to end the ceremony with her feasting on her mate’s behind. The scent of sweat and musk that filled her sinuses was so strong that it made her lightheaded, yet that didn’t stop her from giving the dickmare’s behind a thorough spit-shine. Her hair was an absolute mess, her face was smeared with makeup, and she was filled with so much cum that she could pass for being pregnant - in spite of all that, she was genuinely overjoyed.

As soon as she was finished, she’d make herself as presentable as she could to mingle with the guests and cut the cake with her hubby. The strangest thing was that nothing had or really would change between her and Vinyl; they’d keep living together, she’d keep tending to her lover’s needs, and she’d continue enjoying life to its fullest. Sinking her tongue into the dickmare’s taut pucker, she moaned and imagined how incredible the rest of her life was going to be…