Soarin' High, by Top Quark


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/z7fkFHaA]


                                            “I’m back, Dashie. Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

                                            > You smile at the pegasus mare, wings bound and mouth ball-gagged, as you close the door behind you.

                                            > You casually stroll across the dark basement (a ‘dungeon’, some might describe it as), taking you time to watch your pet as she futilely struggled in her bindings, before coming to a stop before her.

                                            > Taking a knee, you grab her muzzle and force her hateful eyes up at you.

                                            “You know, I spent a lot of money on you, because I thought you were as cute as a button. I thought you would appreciate having good food and a master who doesn’t flay you alive for looking at him the wrong way. I guess I was wrong,”

                                            > you say sadly, your hand moving up to scratch behind her ears, despite her muffled growls of protest.

                                            “Any other owner would have punished you severely at this point, or worse, sell you to a work camp. Is that what you want, Dashie? Are you really going to be that stuck-up?”

                                            > You release one latch of her ball-gag to allow her to speak.

                                            > Immediately, she collects the saliva built-up in her mouth and spits it at your shoes.

                                            > “I’d rather get worked to death than bend over for you, bastard.”

                                            > This is going to be harder than you thought.

                                            > Even when you first saw her at the auction, she was growling and kicking, glaring with Hell’s fury at anyone who dared look at her, and probably being an all-around nightmare for her handlers.

                                            > In retrospect, you should have taken that as a sign.

                                            > Maybe you felt sorry for her and wanted to show her she didn’t need to be so angry.

                                            > Or maybe you were just looking for a challenge; you can’t quite recall.

                                            > Either way, you had made the decision to buy a ‘problem pony’, and now you had to play cards.

                                            “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

                                            > You look down at her, the smile returning to your face.

                                            > “Luckily for you, I have come with a solution.”

                                            “You gonna torture me? Rape me? Well you can save yourself the sweat; nothing you can do to me will turn me into your dick-sucking slave.”

                                            > The angry, little mare is practically foaming at the mouth as she glowers at you, despite being locked into a bow at your bent knees.

                                            > You give a small laugh and tousle the silly filly’s mane, much to her chagrin.

                                            “Perhaps not. But, I have no intention of harming you, or forcing you to do anything. After all, what kind of master would be if I couldn’t even get an adorable little pony to do what I want without the threat of pain? No, if you want to keep being an ungrateful leech, I won’t stop you.”

                                            > “...What?”

                                            > You can’t help silently ‘d’aww’ to yourself as you watch the gears in her little pony brain chug.

                                            “That’s right; if being locked up for the rest of your life and being treated like a criminal is your idea of fun, who am I to interfere? Though, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have my own fun with you. You were really quite expensive, after all.”

                                            > Dashie’s eyes narrowed.

                                            > “Do your worst, fucker.”

                                            > You frown, getting a little irritated at the pegasus’ lack of respect for her master.

                                            “Oh, I intend to. But not to you, since you’ve made it so very clear that you’re nothing but a rude, ungrateful bitch. You don’t even deserve my attention right now. So, I’ve found a new toy to play with. I understand you were quite close with a nice stallion named Soarin?”

                                            > At once, the mare begins thrashing about.

                                            > “Don’t you dare lay a hoof on him, or I swear to Celestia, I will bite off every one of your disgusting hoof-warts, you ugly, monkey-assed motherfu- Umf!”

                                            > Growing tired of the insolent pony’s weightless threats, you shove the ball-gag back in her mouth, cutting off her tirade.

                                            “You know, Dashie, you’re quite interesting. Just about every other pony I own has been so happy to have a master as… forgiving as me. And the ones who weren’t, well, a stern talking to was enough to have them begging for my forgiveness. Ponies seem to be naturally submissive, you see, hard-wired to serve their superiors, and to come to love them. Humans have conquered ponykind, Dashie. Every other pony recognizes this — why can’t you?”

                                            > You shake your head sadly.

                                            “I guess you’re just a bad pony. Too truculent, too individualistic... You know, Rainbow, you would have made a good Human.”

                                            > If she thought anything of your honest compliment, her unwavering glare doesn’t show it.

                                            “But anyway, back to the point: ponies are social creatures, so maybe you just need a friend to put you on the right path — Soarin, you can come in now!”

                                            > “Yes, Master!”

                                            > The door opens, and the blue-maned pegasus enters.

                                            > He happily trots toward you and places his head upon your still-crouched legs, ears folded back submissively.

                                            > He lets out a happy nicker as you begin stroking his mane.

                                            > You look back to Rainbow; her eyes are wide, conflicted between happiness at seeing her long-lost love, and anger at him so eagerly entering your embrace.

                                            “As you can see, my Dashie...”

                                            > you speak, though you make yourself appear more focused on running your fingers through Soarin’s soft mane and rubbing behind his ears, than on your one-sided conversation,

                                            “...Soarin is a good pony. He was hesitant at first, but he has come to accept my kindness and generosity, and is eager to give me his gratitude in return. Especially after he heard that I own you too. Isn’t that right, Soarin?”

                                            > “Mmm… yes, Master… Thank you, Master…” Soarin mumbles, clearly in his own little world of pleasure from your hand’s loving attention.

                                            “And wasn’t there something you wanted to say to your old marefriend?”

                                            > Soarin’s eyes flutter open, his mind coming back to him.

                                            > He gives your open palm one last nuzzle before pulling himself from your warm lap and turning to face Rainbow.

                                            > He gives her a smile and moves down to hug her, bending down to her body restrained to the floor.

                                            > Rainbow is at first agitated by his touch, but soon closes her eyes, accepting his embrace.

                                            > (You hope the low light is enough to hide you grinning like a middle-aged soap-opera fan at the pair’s reunion.)

                                            > “I’ve missed you so much, Rainbow. I thought I would never see you again.”

                                            > Soarin releases her and moves back to look into her eyes.

                                            > “That’s why you need to stop fighting Master Anonymous; I don’t want you to get sent away. I… I know your probably mad, and… and I was too, but Master Anonymous is good to us… he doesn’t hit us or make us do hard work… h-he even promised that if you… come around, we could be… together again, that we maybe could… start a family. I-If you wanted, I mean… What do you stay?”

                                            > To Soarin’s hopeful smile, Rainbow just snorts and looks away, sadness and betrayal in her eyes.

                                            “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Come here, boy, you did your best.”

                                            > He moves back over to you, allowing himself to be scooped up into your arms and lifted to your chest as you stand.

                                            > “I-I’m sorry, Master. I tried, but I’m not… good with words like you,” he says glumly, snuggling into you.

                                            > When you first acquired the Wonderbolt, he expressed his deepest wish with you to see Rainbow Dash again, the pony who was closest to him before the war.

                                            > Of course, you were happy to oblige, on the condition that your Dashie could be made to accept how things work around here; can’t have her corrupting your favourite little colt, can you?

                                            “Don’t worry about it. I think she might come around yet. In the meantime, why don’t we… show Dashie here how much fun she’s missing out on?”

                                            > you whisper sensually in his ear, though loudly enough for Rainbow to hear.

                                            > He looks up at you, his cheeks starting to flush.

                                            > “R-Right here, Master?”

                                            > God, this delicious colt is making you horny.

                                            > Seeing him blush at the though of sex reminds you why you keep ponies in the first place.

                                            “Of course. In fact, it’s all I can do to keep myself from taking you right here on the floor.”

                                            > You begin nipping his ear, eliciting cute moans from the little pony.

                                            > Still holding him tight, you walk across the room to fetch a bed (more of a cushioned bench on wheels, really), and secure it in place directly in Rainbow’s line of sight — you’re going to make sure she has a front-row seat to this show.

                                            > Her eyes flick to-and-fro, unsure whether to look away in shame or to indulge in her curiosity of the lewd scene unfolding before her.

                                            > Losing interest in Rainbow for the moment, you turn back to your Soarin, setting him on the bed so you can disrobe.

                                            > The stallion rolls onto his back to present his belly to you in submission, his face flushing upon seeing your exposed chest.

                                            > He blushes even harder when he catches you gazing hungrily at his crotch, his cock-head beginning to peek from its sheath.

                                            > Not that he’s going to get much use out of it, you laugh to your self.

                                            “Now, then, Soarin,”

                                            > you say as you finish striping off your undergarments, exposing your manhood to your two ponies, both pairs of eyes locked to your length,

                                            “why don’t you get me ready to plow your tight little colt-pussy?”

                                            > A moan of anticipation escapes Soarin’s throat as a you join him on the bed, resting on your back.

                                            > He crawls over to you, wiggling between your legs for better access to your groin.

                                            > You grin as you hear Rainbow groan in her bonds.

                                            > Whether she is agitated with Soarin’s complete compliance or is trying to contain her own arousal, you cannot tell; you are, after all, currently anticipating the throat-fucking her sissy coltfriend is about to receive.

                                            > You sharply inhale, the feeling of Soarin’s nose touching your scrotum sending shivers up your spine.

                                            > The pony takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with your Human scent. After holding it in for a moment, he exhales, his pupils dilated and a giddy grin on his face.

                                            > “You smell so good, Master. May I wear your scent, so that everypony knows I belong to you?”

                                            > You give a nod to the stallion’s lewd request, and he begins nuzzling your balls, making sure to cover his entire face in your musk.

                                            > The pony’s short fur rubbing against your sensitive skin tickles, but you manage to keep a straight face.

                                            > Eventually deciding he had been sufficiently coated in your scent, Soarin’s tongue lolls out, coating your crotch in his saliva as he licks up and down your shaft like a tasty snack.

                                            > Your breath hitches as he sensually draws his smooth tongue up the outline of your urethra, pausing when he reaches your cock head.

                                            > He goes cross-eyed as he looks down, noticing the bead of pre-cum that formed on your opening from his stimulation.

                                            > Carefully, he puckers his lips and places them around your tip in a sensual kiss, showing his affection to your Human dick.

                                            > You feel him begin to gently suck, doing his best to get as much of your pre into his mouth as possible before continuing with the rest of your shaft.

                                            > You idlily wonder what colour lipstick would look best on him.

                                            > Definitely bright green…

                                            > As your sexy stallion works on getting your cock lubed nicely, you glance back at Rainbow.

                                            > This time, she appears significantly more flustered, her pupils dilated from watching Soarin worship your cock, her breaths coming from her nostrils in heavy huffs.

                                            > You can’t see from your position on the bed, but if the strong smell emanating from her direction was any indicator, you would bet a puddle of mare-juices is starting to form around her nethers.

                                            “It’s not too late, Dashie, I could still fuck you instead of him. I can’t imagine it feels too good being cucked like this — don’t you want to save your coltfriend from being turned into a gay, Human-cock addicted ponyboy? Though from the look of it, he may not want to stop.”

                                            > You give Soarin’s mane an affectionate tousle, his eyes looking back at you adoringly.

                                            > He moved on to taking your erect member into his mouth completely, shoving it deeper down his tight throat happily.

                                            > Rainbow looks at you for several moments, considering your offer, before dropping her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

                                            > You can feel the mare’s resolve cracking, so you press forward with Soarin.

                                            “Well, since she’s still not picking up what I’m putting down, I guess I’ll just have to fuck your cute little pony ass. And, since you’ve been such a good colt for me, I’ll give you a treat; you can ride my dick yourself until you cum.”

                                            > Soarin’s ears flick up, momentarily distracted from doing his best to slobber all over your cock.

                                            > “Oh, thank you, Master! I promise to make you cum with me!”

                                            “I doubt that. But I know you’ll try your best, and that’s what’s important.”

                                            > You have a pretty good idea of how this is going to go down, and it certainly is not ending with you orgasming first.

                                            You reach under Soarin’s shoulders, pulling up to your chest.

                                            > You give his snout a little kiss (much to the stallion’s glee), and take a deep breath of his well-brushed, blueberry-scented mane.

                                            > He gives his beautifully-preened wings a little flutter, not one bent or errant feather.

                                            > Truly, you take good care of your ponies; you give them proper living conditions, keep them well-fed and groomed, and allow them plenty of free time.

                                            > Why Rainbow Dash cannot see that is beyond you – what else could a pony want?

                                            > Soarin positions himself above you, gently guiding your shaft with one hoof as he lowers his ass down.

                                            > He gasps as your cockhead kisses his hole.

                                            > “Master, you’re so big! I hope you can fit inside…” he said tentatively as he slowly increases the pressure between you.

                                            > Even after all the work he had done to get your cock moistened, the tightness of his pucker was creating a lot of friction.

                                            > Still, you groan in pleasure as your pointed penis successfully penetrates the pony’s barrier, encouraged inward by his natural lubricant.

                                            > “M-Master! You… I…” Soarin managed to stutter, before his legs give out, forcing your shaft to hilt inside him, dominating his tight bowels.

                                            > He lets out a moan of pure ecstasy when your tip slams into his prostate.

                                            > You growl in pleasure as you feel his insides pulsing against your flesh, constricting against the invader for a lack of space.

                                            > His head falls back, tongue lolling out and unfocused eyes rolling up into his skull.

                                            > Completely submissive and overjoyed to serve his Human master; this is how ponies should be — how they are, for the most part.

                                            > “Master, y-you feel so good inside me… I-I don’t know how much longer I can… can…” Soarin stutters through his panting breath, clearly already on the brink of orgasm.

                                            > You rub your stallion’s flanks comfortingly.

                                            > You begin to lean upwards to face Soarin, slowly running your hands up his body as you go.

                                            > The feeling of your digits groping his curves cause him to whimper needily.

                                            > Your nails part his fur and gently scratch the sensitive skin beneath, giving your slutty stallion a shiver-inducing pleasure only a Human can provide.

                                            > They come to rest on either side of his head, forcing his face firmly pointed to you (not that the lovestruck stallion would ever dream of looking away).

                                            > Eyes now level, you watch with amusement as you lower one hand, stroking along his neck, across his floofy pegasus chest, and down his abdomen.

                                            > Soarin’s breath hitches when you reach his nethers, teasingly circling his crotch with one finger before slowly engulfing his testes in your grasp.

                                            > A gentle squeeze elicits a small yelp from the pony, his bowels clamping around your meat-spear even harder.

                                            > You smile as you continue to massage his tender stallion orbs as you whisper in his ear,

                                            “You’re such a slutty colt, you know that? Just like a pony should be. Tell me what you want.”

                                            > You nibble his ear as he struggles to gather his words.

                                            > “I… You’re amazing, Master. I want to be your little colt for ever and ever. I want your virile s-seed to breed my c-coltpussy…”

                                            > You silence your slave with a kiss to the lips.

                                            > He is clearly uncertain with his dirty-talk — something to work on, at least.

                                            > Soarin opens his jaws, granting your tongue access to his mouth.

                                            > You seize the opportunity and enter, setting about to stake your claim to yet another of this pony’s orifices.

                                            > While you make sure he can taste your intoxicating Human saliva slowly trickling down his throat, you give him little nips along his lips and on the tip of his tongue.

                                            > You have always loved this about ponies, how all it takes is a firm grip and a few small nips from your canines is enough to turn them to butter in your arms.

                                            > Too soon for either of your liking, you break the kiss.

                                            > As you fall back into a reclining position, you give your stallion an encouraging pat on his firm rear, prompting for him to resume buttfucking himself on your shaft.

                                            > On his part, Soarin is staring at you with a look of pure reverie, lips still glistening with your saliva.

                                            > Was he blown away by the intimacy of your kiss, or is he still processing tasting you so intensely?

                                            > Hard to tell with ponies.

                                            > And in the end, it doesn’t matter.

                                            > As long as your pony is happy, you are happy.

                                            > After a moment’s recovery, Soarin shakily begins to push himself up, his asshole desperately gripping your retreating dick, as if unwilling to part for even a second.

                                            > Then, he lets himself drop, the force of the impact jostling your body.

                                            > The momentary burst of contact gives you some pleasure, though clearly not as much your pony is getting; each time he repeats the action, he cries out, “Master!”, and swishes his tail across your legs erratically.

                                            > His cute little horse cock had unsheathed totally, and is now flopping about on your toned belly in time with his thrusts, completely flaccid, as if sensing that his master is conquering his pony flanks, and needn’t bother being erect to achieve release.

                                            > “Master, I’m… I’m gonna…”

                                            “It’s alright, my little pony. Cum for me. Cum for your master.”

                                            > Before the stallion can get any more words out, his eyes glaze over and his anus clamps down on your cock, preparing to be filled with seed that would not be coming.

                                            > He began moaning, mare-like and effeminate in comparison to your own deep groans from the sudden burst of pressure from his vice of a colt-hole.

                                            > His tail wraps around your leg in a pony gesture of affection.

                                            > Then, his own cum spews forth, flowing out of his half-limp pony dick in a small pool on belly, mixing with the drool leaking down from his lax tongue.

                                            > Soarin’s expression is distant, riding the waves of pleasure from his orgasm, the pure pony pleasure forcing a goofy grin on his face.

                                            > Suddenly, the bone-crushing grip Soarin’s anus had on your meat slackens, causing the clumsy colt to drop beside you on the bed, the friction of your still-hard-and-unsatisfied cock escaping his depths gives you both one last tendril of pleasure (for now, at least).

                                            > Still very much out of it, your broodmare of a stallion shimmies up to rest his head on your chest, half-lidded eyes looking up to you lovingly.

                                            > “You… You are so wonderful, Master. Your huge, alien cock makes me cum so quickly,” he mutters, nuzzling his little snoot into your neck, inhaling more of your scent (his scent, now).

                                            > “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t make you cum, Master. Humans are so good at fucking… you should be the only ones allowed to do it.”

                                            > Soarin blushes at his own lewd words, and gives your cheek a lick, making sure to spend his afterglow completely dominated by your presence.

                                            > You give him a smile.

                                            “While it’s good you think so, my delicious blueberry-”

                                            > you bend up to give your pony another kiss on the snout, causing him to bounce happily,

                                            “-if ponies weren’t allowed to have sex with each other how would we make more fillies and colts to have fun with?”

                                            > You stroke his mane, occasionally scratching behind his ears while you speak.

                                            > The stallion would apparently be completely content to just fall asleep on you right here in the cellar.

                                            > “You’re so smart, Master,” he says with a yawn.

                                            > Now he’s not even trying to hide his brown-nosing.

                                            > A sly grin appears on your face.

                                            “Don’t think you’re off the hook. It seems one filthy little horse made a mess…”

                                            > Soarin looks cocks his head, confused, but grows a look of concern as he follows you eyes and sees the semen he left on your abdomen.

                                            > He hops to his hooves and scrambles back between your legs, looking back at you supplicating.

                                            > “Oh, Master, I’m so sorry — I didn’t mean to d-disgrace your Human body with my p-pony cum,” he apologizes vehemently, and begins drawing his tongue across your belly.

                                            > As he laps up his own seed, making sure to present the sticky substance in his mouth to you before swirling it around in his mouth and swallowing.

                                            > You reach down and begin stroking your pony’s mane, smiling at him as he works.

                                            > He was being such a good boy for you.

                                            > Maybe you should take him out for ice-cream and a flying session tomorrow.

                                            > You really did mean it when you told Dashie that you didn’t want to hurt her; ponies are just too adorable to beat senselessly, and when most of them are just so easy to convince to be your happy little pet, you just can’t justify it.

                                            > You even tell off other pony-owners being needlessly cruel whenever you can – ponies are for loving.

                                            > No, you are certainly not in the wrong.

                                            > All you do is help ponies, help them to learn to enjoy their situation.

                                            > The ponies are victims of circumstance, but Humans did conquer them; fair’s fair.

                                            > Soarin, you are lucky turned out so submissive and willing to please; with Rainbow, you would honestly be happy if you can get her to call you ‘master’ and to smile once in a while.

                                            > You sigh, and look over to the mare.


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