Title:           merely a male-mare
Author:          innersanctum
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/7M0aJfh7
First Edit:      Friday 14th of October 2011 04:30:19 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Friday 14th of October 2011 04:30:19 PM CDT

Merely a Male-Mare
 
A clopfic. A clop in progress. Enough to be... getting on with.
 
Enjoy.
 
***
 
    I scratched my scraggly beard thoughtfully as the cheers and talking echoed across the paddock where they were keeping me and the other... undesirables. I grimaced, that was the wrong word. Where they were keeping the adult non-citizens.
    My arrival in Ponyville was still a mess of confused half-images and forgotten dreams, but I was getting used to the pastel-coloured world I seemed to be stuck in. Mostly. Every so often the civilisation here threw me for a loop. I squared my shoulders and tried again. I wandered across the paddock towards the two ponies who were guarding the only entrance and exit to the fenced-off area where myself and around ten ponies were being kept waiting until their... I guess you could call it ‘owners’ showed up to claim them. As I approached, the larger of the two spun around and snorted, stamping a forehoof. Even at four foot high, she was a creature to be wary of.
    “Back on the other side, colt, you’ve no business in Ponyville unaccompanied.”
    “No, see, there’s... been a mistake.”
    “No mistake, Big Mac himself led you here and left you. That means you,” and the tan pony poked me with a hoof in the ribs, winding me, “stay here. Preferably there.”
    The pony pointed, and half-charged, causing me to jump backwards. She snorted derisively as I stumbled. I scowled again but left with my metaphorical tail between my legs. That’s another thing which surprised me about this place; all ponies, all the time. I was the only sentient non-pony, if you didn’t count the odd fantasy critter here or there. A dragon, a griffon... no humans, except me.
   
    I slunk back to the shady tree and leaned against it.
    “Didn’t work this time too, huh?” asked a voice. It was another juvenile pony. I was getting used to recognizing them now. It helped they mostly had unique marks on their butts.
    “Hey Caramel,” I said, smiling as he head-butted me gently in the side, “who’re you here with?”
    “Big Mac and Apple Jack.”
    “Yeah? Haven’t see you ‘round the farm, though they do kinda work me hard.  I can’t buck apples like they can with these scrawny things,” I thumped my legs with a fist, “but I can do other stuff it’d otherwise cost them the services of a unicorn to pull off.”
    “Like ear-scritching.”
    “Like that.”
    The pony head-butted me again, “I said, like ear-scritching.” he nipped me, I yelped and winced, snaking out a hand to scratch him behind his ear at his order. He was an earth-pony, they were strong when they wanted to be. I shivered, they were strong and knew what they wanted. They usually got it, too.
    Caramel sighed happily, flicking his tail, “I can see why they keep you ‘round.”
    “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
    “Don’t give me that, human.”
    “Bob, short for Robert. Is it that hard to remember my name?”
    Caramel snorted, “Like I have to remember your name, everyone knows who you are.”
    “I... I don’t think I like that tone.”
    Caramel snorted and bit me, “I don’t rightly think you got much of a choice, Bob.”
    “Neither do you, Car. You’re stuck here with me.”
    “T’ain’t how it works. You are stuck here with me, and I’m bored. Those two fillies over there... you know what time of year it is, Bob?”
    “Summer?”
    “You know what happens in the summer?”
    “Yeah,” I scratched my head, then continued scratching the insistent earth pony when he nipped me again, “some sort of summer celebration...”
    “Not the party, dufus. The mares. They’re all... ready, at least for a stallion.”
    “And poor Caramel hasn’t got one, and he’s stuck in here... with...”
    “That’s right,” Caramel bit me on the ass again, I staggered and fell, clutching my backside.
    “Woah, woah, wait... I’m not...”
    “Bob, I’m only going to ask you this a few times before I get mad... but if you were a filly I’d be asking you nicely to raise that purty tail of yours. Seein’ as you ain’t, I’m jus’ gonna tell you ta get into position.”
    “I don’t... we can’t...”
    Caramel idly kicked me with a hoof, I doubled up, winded. He leaned in close, “I said don’t give me that. I can smell him on you, human. He came last night, didn’t he?”
    “Wh-”
    A hoof.
    “You think I don’t know what Big Mac smells like? He gets around, does that Big Mac, and he’s taken a shine to you, his latest male mare... though it ain’t letters what’s gettin’ delivered, and t’ain’t you what’s deliverin’ ‘em, am I right? Now get up, human, and assume the position. I know Big Mac’s taught you what to do... I’ll be right gentle...”
    I whimpered, “Right here?”
    “Right now.”
 
    The pony was serious... could he really smell that stallion on me? It’d started gently enough... The Apple family had me sleeping in the barn, said they didn’t have a room for me. I took what I could get, a lone monster in an otherwise cold, heartless world. he hadn’t come the first few nights... but on one rainy night, the red stallion had clopped into the barn and opened the door with his teeth. The heavy, musky weight had pressed down into the straw next to me in the darkness, pinning my slender frame to the floor. Since that night, he’d got more insistent, until finally his voice, low in the silence, had rung out.
    “You can touch me, you know... I like it when ya touch me.”
    I’d stammered, hesitated, but he’d just rolled over and his erection had flopped across my chest.
    “I ain’t gotta say much, human, and you’ll be gone...” he’d said, quietly. I’d gulped, he had me by the metaphorical balls.
    I’d reached a hand out. I’d expected it to be slimy and disgusting, but it wasn’t. Mac looked after himself, though I didn’t know how. They barely let me in the house except at certain mealtimes. I washed in cold water from the well, I only had the one set of clothes. I stank. Come to think of it, the ponies smelled too... but not bad. Maybe I was getting used to it. I didn’t have much choice.
    “Y’all can touch it... T’ain’t gonna bite. I might though.”
   
    I’d reached out a hand, two hands. I took a hold of his penis. It was heavy, weighty. Gingerly at first, I ran my fingers up and down the solid, warm length. I gripped it, caressed it, cuddled it up against my body. He was surprisingly gentle, for all his veiled threats. His release had been sudden, grunting, his tail slapping me in the face as the hot sticky liquid spurted onto my chest. He’d licked my face, then kissed me, tenderly I guessed though for me it was rough and almost painful. His tongue, tasting of hay and apples, forced itself into my jaw. Pony saliva filled my mouth and covered my head. Then we’d laid there in the darkness as he snoozed for an hour or two, his seed cooling on my body, and I’d ran my fingers through his silken mane and coarse coat. It was the dawn chorus before the sunrise that led him out into the misty morning. I’d washed up as best as I could, but I’d had to go shirtless for that day since it was stiff and unusable with it’s fresh coating of ponycum, until I’d got it washed and dried.
 
    Back in the real world, I unbuckled my pants and let them fall to the floor. Caramel bit my underpants and pulled. A momentary pain and the elastic snapped. He threw them in a heap and buried his muzzle in my buttocks.
    “Mmmm, yes, I can smell Big Mac all over you. Everypony can. Didn’t you know that? I know, AJ knows. Those two... filly-foolers over there know.”
    I blanched. I went into town whenever I could... I’d guessed that the other ponies had just warmed up to me, that they’d been informed where I was staying. Now every stray “give my regards to Big Mac” struck home. It was rarely Apple Jack, though I knew she was at least as well liked as her red older brother, if not moreso.
    “That’s right, human, you’re his mare of the moment. And now... you’re gonna be mine.”
 
    Big Mac hadn’t come every night, but I found myself slowly looking forwards to it. He was the strong, silent type, and the nights could grow cold, even in midsummer. One night, as I’d been working him up softly with my mouth, he had me stop.
    “Get up,” he said, “and lean against the door.”
    I wondered if I’d done something wrong. He’d snorted and pulled my legs back from the door, knocking a hoof between them to widen my stance. Then he’d put his head between my cheeks and sniffed long and hard. I could hear in the darkness how he’d thrown back his head, snorting. Horses in my world had done that, when they found something they really liked the smell of. I trembled. He bit and nudged me with his teeth and muzzle, his head snaking between my thighs as he coated my legs, crack and puckered anus with saliva. His tongue forced it’s way painfully in through the tight ring of muscled, widening it further than I’d thought possible. Only once he was happy did it withdraw. I whimpered, it soon became apparent he’d wanted my butt sticking out. I arched my back, but the breath was still knocked from my body when the stallion mounted. His forehooves kicked in the air, I felt them digging against my ribs but these ponies were surprisingly soft. It wouldn’t leave a mark - not one that could be seen, anyhow.
    He’d walked himself forwards on his hind legs, his teeth had fastened around my hair, conveniently perhaps tied back in the ponytail I’d forgotten to remove that night. He pulled, and at the same time I felt the tip of his huge shaft brush up against my anus. He was going to...
    I grit my teeth, it hurt when he pushed himself in, despite the tonguing he’d given. He’d snorted, bucking those strong hips of his as he’d gripped my tight like any mare with those powerful forehooves and eased his cock in inch by inch. The hot, thick rod had rammed home eventually, Big Mac stopping with a shudder as he hilted, his sheath up against my buttocks. He’d put his great head next to mine and whispered, “I’ve been waitin’ fer this night... first of many.”
    Then he’d begun to slide his shaft in and out in long, slow strokes, sucking and thrusting, until his precum coated my inner sanctum and the mutual juices eased it’s passage. He built up his pace, quiet whinnies and foggy snorts of hot breath coating my hair as he whispered softly in my ears about how good a mare I was. He’d grown hard, harder than ever, until I was all but lifted from the ground as he ploughed into me, and then he’d came, a hot torrent of ponycum that hosed my insides and spurted out around his magnificent cock to rain down amongst my now-sticky bedding of straw. He’d rested against me, what felt like a tonne of muscle and fur, and the most sensuously soft, intimate embrace I’d ever received. I looked down at my hands, pale in the moonlight, in disbelief. They were coated with my own seed, my own cock throbbing and aching with the release. I raised them slowly, sticky and wet, to his muzzle, and I’d pulled his great head in for a soft kiss. He’d returned it and, gently, withdrawn and left.
 
    Caramel’s hot breath on my rear brought me back to the present, again. He shuffled his forehooves in agitation and bit at my buttocks. I winced. Big Mac had always nipped lightly, for all his size he was a gentle giant. Caramel, a pony I thought I knew well, was impatient, randy, and domineering. I knew what he wanted.
    The sun was hot on my ass cheeks as I spread my legs. I’d learned not to piss off a pony, not even in jest, when the lightest of horse-play from Apple Jack had bruised my ribs. Caramel snorted repeatedly, throwing his head back and curling his upper lip. I could hear his cock slap at his underbelly, he was fully erect already and raring to go. The breath was knocked from my lungs as his weight plunged down onto my back. He’d not been with many mares, I could tell. It would have made me laugh if he hadn’t decided to make me the first of them. I spread my legs, I couldn’t fight back, no way. Where was I to go? If I left the paddock... I shuddered to think.
    “Easy boy,” I said to him, “take it slow.”
    “Quiet mare,” he said, biting my neck and shoulder, “you just lift that tail, spread those legs, Caramel wants some...”
    “Car, Car, easy, eas-oohhhhh my gosh!”
 
    Caramel was smaller than Big Mac. Like so much else in this strange land, Big Mac was every bit his namesake. Over our nights together, the torrid mounting had become passionate love-making. He was a pony, it was true; large, powerful, strong... but also gentle and kind, despite his underhanded tactics and blackmail. Maybe I’d gone mad, maybe being the sex-toy of a talking stallion just negated common sense, but I found I liked him, us. Neigh, I loved him. I had grown... accustomed to his length and girth. It still hurt at first, but now... now the feeling of his urgent penetration sent new, powerful feelings surging through my body. I rode his cock as he speared it in to me, living for the nights when he would take me in his hooves and make me his own. We’d even made love face-to-face, though it was awkward and we spent a good deal of the experience laughing and fumbling. I’d learnt to take my clothes off and sleep naked - a few awkward days ploughing naked as my clothes were washed of the scent of our copulating, not to mention bodily fluids, had taught me. He let me sleep in, some days, stealing a quick kiss as he brought breakfast - oat and apple porridge was surprisingly tasty.
 
    But Caramel... I moaned.
    “Oh, you like that, filly? You like that? Daddy like.”
    I laughed despite myself, fumbling with a hand behind me to help guide his cock into my male love-cave, “Slowly, slowly... feel the mare beneath you, it’s okay, I’m yours, Caramel, take me, make me yours, just slow down, easily... in and out...”
    I coaxed him, goaded him, guided him, and the horny, musth-crazed eased up. His cock was thinner, flatter at the tip, wider, than Big Mac’s. i still dripped with the elder stallion’s seed, so my new mate slid smoothly in to his male mare. I was sweating now, trembling, despite the muscular workout I got most nights with my red lover. Caramel was gasping, his taught cock thrusting wildly in and out, jerking, spasming, slick with Big Mac’s dripping seed and his own copious amounts of precum. I felt Caramel’s hooves, thinner, daintier, fasten around my ribs as his shapely head pushed itself against my cheeks. He kissed me, then, hard and needily. He talked as he fucked me, his powerful cock riding my insides deep and long, whispering how good a mare I was, how sweet, how wet, how perfect. I goaded him on, encouraged him. I spoke of his mane and tail, silky smooth and soft against my bare skin, his coat, his musky male scent, his body, pawing against mine in wild abandon. I kissed his cheeks, his lips, his tongue, bit his ear, widened my stance to let him fuck his mare as deep as he wished, until his tail flagged almost straight up and for the second time that day a torrent of ponycum spewed into my body, out of my clenching anus and spilled onto the ground.
    My young stud slumped, breathing hard. Truth be told, I wasn’t in much better shape, but I held him there as he recovered and basked in the hormonal afterglow. I kissed him, congratulated him - my own deposit of seed joining his. After an eternity spent with the equine hugging me to his body - he almost sobbing, so sweet despite his demeanour earlier - he shuffled backwards. Another gush of cum left my body as his now-flaccid ponycock flopped freely between his legs. It withdrew into his sheath. I felt jealous. I’d not be able to hide my manhood, nor my new status as pseudo-broodmare, since my underpants had been destroyed and my pants... were currently in need of a wash. They’d been between my legs, around my ankles.
    I was still laughing to myself when a shadow fell across my body. I looked up, it was Big Mac. I sprung up, back against the tree, “I can explain... I was... he...”
    “Y’all enjoy him, Caramel?” Big Mac asked, eyes never leaving my face.
    “Yessir, Big Mac, he was jes’ right.”
    “Good. Feel like catching the last of the party?”
    “I... yessir, Big Mac.”
    “Good. Off ya go now, Caramel.”
    I watched, dumbfounded, as a renewed Caramel trotted between the guards. They looked at him, once, but he snorted and slapped them with his tail. They let him pass. My jaw almost hit the ground.
    “Ar’ Caramel ain’t no beta stallion no more, mare,” said Big Mac, looking at the retreating form of the light brown stallion, before turning back to me, “he jus’ needed a little... push. Come on, you’re with me. You leave them duds where ya found ‘em, you dun need ‘em. Sides, I might feel a little frisky.”
    His tail slapped me on my buttocks as I stood there, rooted to the spot. His one glance back as he started clip-clopping away told me I’d better follow him if I expected to see anything of this midsummer festival. I wouldn’t be let out of the beta paddock alone, yet.