Big McIntosh heard a noise

Then Big McIntosh woke up. Sitting straight up in bed, he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. He wasn’t sure if he had really heard it, or if it was just a dream. He tried to hold his breath and listen. His heart was pounding in his chest. It was before three in the morning. The witching hour. Big Mac didn’t have clock, but he knew roughly the time. As a farmer, he lived his life by the movement of the sun, or the absence thereof.

There! There it was again. It was like... some kind of animal scream. Or howl. A cat was his first guess, but that wasn’t quite right. Big Mac swung his feet off the bed and stood up. His heavily muscled frame was illuminated by the moonlight. He slept in the buff. But he kept a pair of boxers hanging on the chair by his bedroom door in case there was an emergency, so his sisters wouldn’t see his business. Big Mac quickly pulled them on and headed downstairs.

He was the only one awake. Even good ol’ Winona was still asleep in her basket by the back door in the kitchen. That was comforting, yet strange. Usually, she’d be the first one up at the sound of strange noises, especially cats. She lifted her head up to him, and he bent down and scratched her behind the ear as he passed by. He went out the back door and closed it behind himself.

It was an early summer night. It was cold, but not to the point that it was too uncomfortable. Big Mac’s blood was pumping too fast for him to really notice the cold. Still, the hairs on his powerful chest and arms started to stand on end. Big Mac looked around his farm. It was hard to see in the starlight, but there didn’t appear to be any sort of commotion.

He walked around his house and down the drive. He could feel the dust of the road between his bare toes. Goosebumps were raising up his forearms. He looked to the left, in the direction of Ponyville. Nothing out of the ordinary.

There! There was the noise again. A kind of screech or moan. Not like any animal he could think of, not exactly. It almost could have been human, but it was very strange. It raised in pitch as it went on, seeming to send vibrations through his very flesh. It could have even been some kind of mechanical noise. Or even, of course, magic.

Big McIntosh very slowly started to turn his head to the right. It was the direction that the noise had come from. He looked down the other end of the road. There was a big black void where the road met the horizon. It was as if some demiurge had taken scissors and cut out a hole in space itself. It was blacker than the black of night.

It was the Everfree Forest. Without knowing why, Big McIntosh turned and started walking towards the woods. The Everfree Forest was a dangerous place. Big Mac never came her. He might enter it during the day if one of the farm animals got loose and wandered into it, then he would have to fetch. At night? Maybe if it was one of his little sisters who had wandered in, and only then would he go if he brought his shotgun.

Big McIntosh passed under the canopy of the Everfree Forest and vanished into the blackness. He was alone, unarmed, had no reason to go in, and was nearly naked. He didn’t even hesitate. The sound pulled him in, as if he was under a compulsion. The road turned into a rough trail. Big Mac had to step over thick vines, although somehow he did not trip. The forest blotted out all the light from the sky, but there was still light here. Strange mutated fungi glowed with a ghostly bioluminescence in unearthly blues and greens. Unusual forms of lightning bugs flickered between the tree trunks. Off in the distance, will o’ wisps vanished behind the trees when he turned his head to look at them. According to the stories, these were the ghosts of people who had died lost in in the woods. Big Mac tried to ignore them. And their distant giggling.

Large mosquitoes and other biting insects landed on Big McIntosh and fed. These would occasionally be scraped off by the branches he would blunder through. The branches themselves left scrape marks on his bare skin. Enormous leeches hoped up from the mud of the trail to feed on his legs, only falling off once full. Half way down the trail, a monstrous cockatrice leaped from the bushes. It fluttered in front of Big Mac’s face, trying to capture his eyes in its gaze. Big McIntosh reached up with his left hand and seized the cockatrice by its throat. It desperately tried to claw at his arm. It left deep gashes. Big McIntosh reached up with his right hand, grabbed its head, and twisted. He threw its broken corpse in the bushes without losing his stride. He carried on undaunted.

The creatures of the forest seemed to vanish as he marched on. The glowing flora also ceased to be. He walked through complete darkness, not knowing why. He seemed to be approaching some dark heart of the forest that even the forest itself didn’t care for.

Drums. Drums started to pound.

Big Mac froze in place. The spell pushed him onward, but the sound of the drums gave him the strength to resist, at least for a moment. The spell was redoubled, and he moved on again. The drums grew louder.

He stopped again. This time he was... allowed to. There was something here. Some kind of animal. He could hear it rustling through the dried leaves on the forest floor. And then he could see it. It was striped, and moving around on all fours. The stripes were glowing in unearthly greens and blues. It paced back and forth in front of him, as if it was some kind of large jungle cat. It started to approach him. Big McIntosh swallowed hard.

The thing... stood up. Not on its hind legs, but on its only legs. There were two legs, two arms, wide hips, and two round breasts. It was a human being.

Oh god, Big Mac thought to himself. It was the evil witch woman who lived deep in the woods. He had heard stories about her. He tried to move. He tried to speak. He tried to flee, but his body wouldn’t respond.

The glowing stripes were paint on her body. He could see nothing of her but the paint, yet still it showed her form. The stripes were painted horizontally up her long legs. She was shorter than Big Mac, but she was probably the tallest woman he had ever seen. She looked skinny, but it may have just been her height. It was difficult to tell without anything for scale. The lines continued up her wide shapely hips. There was a tiny, thin line in purple stretching from about where her navel should be, and ending about where the slit of her pussy should start. There were stripes on her back, but he could only tell because the ends of them wrapped around and ended at her belly, which was mostly blank. Spirals of paint were decorated around her two large breasts. They thinned as they spiraled inwards. Her nipples were unpainted, and lost in the darkness. But the edges of her areolas were decorated with yellow triangles, as if representing the sun. Her face... her face was covered little lines and dots of all colors. He couldn’t tell what they represented, but he could make out her features clearly.

Two torches flared into existence. Big Mac’s pupils sharply contracted. The woman started to dance to the beat of the drums. Big McIntosh could finally see his surroundings. There was a small and unusual hut behind the dancing temptress. The two torches were at either side of the door. Where the drums were, or who was playing them, he couldn’t imagine. Her skin was black, but not as black as the night. She was the darkest brown he had ever seen on a person. The glowing of the paint faded in the light, but the color remained. She was gorgeous, despite being so alien and threatening. She only wore a kind of loose leathery belt around her waist, and her hair was done up in some multicolored headwrap. Big McIntosh thought he knew the name of it, but he couldn’t remember. He was not a worldly man.
Her dance was the epitome of eroticism. Her frame would be silhouetted in front of the torches. Her tits, while large, were still pert. In profile, the upper portion of her breasts above the nipple gave the illusion of curving upwards, while the lower halves were near perfect hemispheres. There was a gap between her thighs that let the fire light through. He could see the little curvy outline of her lips as she bent this way and that. He could feel himself growing hard in his boxer shorts, despite his fears.
The drumming started to rise in a crescendo. The woman danced faster. He could see sweat streaming down her body. She started coming closer to him in a series of kicks and leaps and spins. He tried to back away, but his feet were frozen to the forest floor. She landed right in front of him, in the fetal position. The drumming stopped. She slowly started to raiser herself up, stretching her arms out. She stood up straight but held her head low. Then she slowly started to raise her head up to him. Her eyes were closed.
There was a brief, sudden gust of wind that seemed to come out of nowhere. The torches were blown out. Both of them were submerged into total darkness.
Zecora opened her eyes. She was staring into him. Big McIntosh could see her eyes. They were an intense blue-green. It was all he could see. They seemed to just float there in an empty universe. He stared back into them. He started to feel different. He could feel part of his conscious mind floating away into the void. His fear. His doubt. His conscience.
Zecora lifted up an unseen finger and placed it under his chin. She started to walk backwards and he followed her, being guided by nothing more than the finger. She led him into her hut. He had to bend down to keep from hitting his head on the door jamb. The interior of her hut was lit with torches on the wall. The smoke drifted up through natural holes in the ceiling, leaving greasy smears. The walls were decorated with numerous carved fetishes and masks. Some were monstrous or animalistic or even erotic. The room was filled with various gourds and flasks filled with all kinds of exotic potions, or poisons for all Big McIntosh knew. There were a series of pots and cauldrons all sitting in their own fire pits, their coals just burning embers. Zecora walked over to one. Big Mac watched her ass swing as she walked. He could see her much more sharply in this light. Her skin was perfect.
Zecora produced a small wooden bowl and used a ladle to serve up a small portion from one of the cauldrons. She returned to him, and offered him the bowl, holding it up between her breasts. Big McIntosh stared down at them. They were perfect in his opinion, despite being a color he had never seen before. Her nipples were almost jet black. His mouth watered. He noticed the bowl and reached up to take it. He looked at the contents. It was a red brew, there seemed to be some kind of ground herb floating on top. He looked back into Zecora’s beautiful blue-green eyes. She said nothing, but she gestured for him to drink it. He touched the bowl up to his lips and sipped.
It was like being hit with a bolt of lightning. The flavor was intense. There were spices here that he never knew existed. This was unlike anything he had ever known on his little farm. He took another sip. As he drank, Zecora got his bath ready. She pulled a galvanized metal tub out from a hallway, and started to fill it with hot water from the largest cauldron.
Big McIntosh finished his bowl. He went back to the cauldron to ladle up some more. Zecora put her hand on his as he grabbed for the ladle. He looked at her and she shook her head. Big Mac had enough of that particular brew. She took the bowl from his hand and put it away. Then she took him by the hand and led him over to the tub.
He stood in front of it. She stood behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and reached up to his chest. He could feel her tits on his back. His pecs were huge and muscular. He wasn’t sculpted like a body builder, he was just built from a lifetime of hard work. Zecora placed her cheek to his back, and started to stroke his chest. She moved her hands down to his navel. His stomach was one hard slab of muscle. She kept sliding her hands down, and stuck her fingers below the waistband of his shorts. She pulled the front of his boxers down over him. She grabbed his balls in one hand, and his semi-erect cock in the other. It was just briefly, as if to inspect them. She rolled her fingers back around the rear of his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles. She caressed her hands back up his solid thighs, then ass, then up his back to his shoulders.
Big McIntosh stepped into his bath. He sat down. The water was very hot, but incredibly comfortable. Zecora started to hum a tune as he bathed. Big McIntosh liked it, but didn’t recognize that it was the melody that went with the percussion that he had heard earlier. Zecora used a gourd to pour bathwater over his head. It ran down his face in rivulets. The blood on his arm, the one that the cockatrice had scratched, was washed away in the bath.
Big McIntosh started to feel sleepy, and perhaps a little dizzy. He felt himself drifting off. He was staring directly in front of himself. There was an animal mask on the wall. It was painted black and white. It could have been a zebra, but it was so abstracted that it was hard to tell. He just started at it, it seemed to get more interesting as time wore on. As he focused, it seemed to drift closer to him.
There was a bright flash of light and a brief loud noise. Big Mac blinked and flinched in the tub, splashing water over the edge. He could feel Zecora’s hand caressing his feverish forehead. Nothing had happened. He must have nodded off into a dream. He looked at the mask again, still fascinated. As he relaxed again, it started to drift forward again. There was another flash and loud noise. Big McIntosh flinched again, but not as dramatically as the previous time. For a split second he thought he had seen a face behind the mask, or at least blue-green eyes.
The mask drifted closer still. His whole vision faded into a bright whiteness. He heard the noise, and this time it was the same screech-scream that had awakened him from bed. Big McIntosh started to have visions.
The white wall before him started to break up. Deep black vertical gashes of negative space appeared. They were slightly curved or wavy. They looked familiar, but he couldn’t place them. The scene split vertically again, right down the middle. As it was stretched apart it was a bright pink color. Big Mac flew into the pink. A series of visions assaulted and confused him. There was a great flaming red stallion galloping before him in a green meadow. He flew up into the air and there were cities in the skies. He saw a great castle, built into the side of a mountain. He flew down into the castle, into its deepest dungeons. There was a room. A mirror.
Big McIntosh woke up screaming. He tried to leap out of the tub and instead fell onto the floor. All of his limbs were shaking uncontrollably, as if in some sort of seizure. Zecora caught him as he slipped across the floor. She was sitting on the floor, singing a simple melody in a language he didn’t understand.
She rested his head on her lap and he was instantly comforted. His muscles relaxed. The visions vanished. His mind cleared. He looked up at her smiling down at him. He looked over and saw her tits hanging just above his face. He reached up and sucked a nipple into his mouth. She tasted of exotic oils and lotions. He heard her gasp. He smiled thinking that he could have an effect on her, even though he was in her total control. He could feel her nipple growing erect in his mouth. He bit down gently on it and tickled the tip with his tongue.
She started to caress his face with her hands. She wiped back his wet hair, then ran her hands up and down his huge body. He popped the nipple out of his mouth and took in the other. He sucked forcefully. Zecora slid her hand down and grabbed his cock by the base. It had grown fully erect. She could barely get her hand around it. She moved her hand up and down, jacking him off as he sucked her tits. She closed her eyes and tried to determine which she enjoyed more. She opened her eyes and looked down at his manhood. The fire of the torches was reflecting off of every wrinkle and bulging vein and his shining pink head. She could feel her mouth water. She reached up with her other hand and pulled her nipple out from between his teeth. Then she carefully laid his head down on the floor with one hand while jerking him with the other.
She crawled down his body. She grabbed his rock hard cock with both hands and looked closely. A little clear drop of pre-ejaculate was rolling down his smooth round head. She bent close and licked it up his head, then sucked the whole head into her mouth, her large lips wrapping around beneath it. It filled her whole mouth. She could feel it getting even harder on her tongue. She noticed Big McIntosh’s knees bend with ecstasy as she sucked on it. She took in a deep breath through her nose, and then started to slide down the shaft. He started to writhe underneath her. She had to move one of her hands out of the way as her lips moved past. She heard him groan loudly as she got halfway down. She kept going, driving his cock deeper down her throat, her jaw as wide as she could open it. She moved her other hand out of the way. She kept pushing it down. She had to close her eyes. He was more man than she had ever taken before. She opened her eyes. Her lips were wrapped around the base. Her nose was sunk into his balls. She would have smiled, but she couldn’t. Only then did she start sliding it back out. She wasn’t in a hurry, so she took it out slowly. She knew she had many seconds of breath left. She was especially slow taking out the head. She let her teeth gingerly graze the skin of it. She closed her lips around the tip, and kissed it with a wet smack. Then she finally inhaled another deep breath. Big McIntosh inhaled too, he had been holding his breath as well. His eyes were rolled up in the back of his head, not in a magical trance, but in ineffable pleasure. He had never known a woman who could take the whole thing.
Zecora, now properly warmed up, sucked the whole thing back in again. She started to fellate him rapidly. She used a free hand to fondle his balls. His sack grew warm and loose in her hand. She played with each ball individually. When she slid her lips down to the base of his dick, she pulled them up to her nose and wiggled her face. He gasped behind her.
Big McIntosh’s eyes returned to normal and he blinked a few times. He turned his head to his left. Zecora was on her knees beside him. Her curvy ass was sticking up right next to him. He lifted up his hand and moved it to her ass. He used his thumb and pressed it directly against her asshole, then slowly started to slide it down. He moved down to her pussy. He could feel her getting wet even as he moved his thumb down it. He got to her clit and then flicked his thumb. Zecora had to stop for a split second, his cock half in and half out of her mouth, and then she resumed.
He couldn’t wait. He wrapped both hands around her waist and lifted her into the air as if she weighed nothing. He set her back down again, his cock still in her mouth, on his face. He looked up at her pussy above him. Her two round butt cheeks were reflecting the warm fire light. Her asshole was a tight little spot of darkness. Her slit was more blackness, stretching down. There was single tiny little fold of bright pink inner lip sticking out. Big Mac reached up and stuck his tongue to her clit. He could almost watch as her pussy seemed to open up to him. The slit grew imperceptibly wider, her pink inner lips shined through, their wetness glistening in the light. It was a long vertical pink gash. He shoved his face up into her cunt, plunging her tongue deep inside of her.

Zecora couldn’t take it. Her lips were at the base of his cock when she had to pause. She let his dick slide out as he drove his tongue in and out of her. His wet boner slapped against his belly as she let it drop. She had to take a minute just to regain her breath. She picked it back up with her hand, and started to lick the shaft up and down the side. She licked around the head. She put his head back in her mouth and tried to work down the shaft, but she couldn’t focus, the pleasure was too much. She laid her head down by the base of his cock and kissed it. She turned her cheek up to it and started rubbing it up and down as she pressed her cheek against the shaft. It was all she could think to do.

She gradually started to regain her composure. She looked at his cock again. She admired it. She wanted it inside of her. As good as he was below her, she remembered that she was in charge here, and that it was her who was going to have her way with him.

She started to crawl forward and off of him. Her pussy moved out of reach from his out-stretched tongue. She crawled on all fours away from him, like the jungle cat that he had first thought she was. Big McIntosh sat up, then he followed, also on all fours. She let him catch up to her. He ran the palm of his hand up between her legs. She was sopping wet and ready for him.

He placed his chin on her back, just above the crack of her butt. Then he shifted it forward, and forward again. He was slowly inching up, his chest on her back. He reached down and grabbed his erection. When it was close, he pushed it up to her pussy, sliding the head in. It went in smoothly. He let go of it, and then pushed it the rest of the way in. She heaved underneath him. She started to slowly pump into her. Each time he slowly straighted up his back. He wrapped his big hands around her waist and started fucking her harder. Her big tits swung back and forth underneath her. On a couple of thrusts, here and there, he hammered into her as hard as he could, just to let her know he had control over his body. She yelped each time, but she seemed to enjoy it. She started to arch her own back towards him. He reached forward and grabbed her by the tits and squeezed. His white fingers pressed into her dark brown flesh. Her black nipples squeezed out between them. They both started to moan. He started to stand up, but didn’t lose his rhythm. She was pulled up as well, he had to squat at his knees because her legs, long as they were, weren’t as long as his.

It was an awkward position. Big McIntosh lifted her up, light as a feather, still fucking her. He carried her, feet off the floor, over to a wall. She placed her hands against it for some leverage, and he let her feet back down. Now he could really fuck her properly, his hands gripping her at the waist. He started hammering into her with each stroke. Her ass jiggled. They could hear his big balls slapping against her. Her tits were flopping around in big circles. He reached up with one and grabbed one of them as it slapped into his palm. He squeezed hard. She screamed. She reached down with one of her own hands, and covered his hand with hers. She made him squeeze harder, then pinch her nipple.

Big McIntosh could feel his conscious thought drift away. It was as if he was becoming animalistic. Turning into a kind of fleshy machine, just as she had wanted. Zecora stopped him. He pulled out of her. She turned around and threw her arms around this thick neck. He placed his hands on her waist again and lifted her up. They kissed and she shoved her tongue into his mouth. She wrapped her legs around him. Big Mac took a few paces forward and squeezed her up against the wall. Their kiss broke as Big Mac slowly let her down onto his stiff cock. Zecora’s mouth hung open. It opened even further into a large letter “O.” They started fucking again, this time even harder than before. The whole hut began to creak as Big Mac fucked her up against the wall. Her feet were wrapped around his back and her toes curled up. She started to wail. Her erect nipples danced against his chest as she was shoved up and down. She pounded her fists against his chest. He squeezed further into her pressing her tighter against the wall. Her tits were pressed flat against him. Somehow he found the strength to fuck her harder. She started to come. She dug her nails into the skin of his back, leaving scratches. She was dripping fluid down onto his balls and onto the floor. They were both soaked and slippery with sweat. Their skin slid past each other without a hint of friction. She lost sensation, except for the feeling of his cock pounding deep inside her, and the rubbing on her clit.

Zecora came. She screamed, but as he was pressed into her, it came out sounding strange and strangled. It started as a low moan, and then rose, grainy, into a high pitched scream.

Big McIntosh recognized the noise. It was the same noise that had woken him up. A noise in the present he had heard in the past. There was powerful magic here. He started to stagger back a few steps. Zecora reached up around his neck, pulled herself up and off of his cock, and then lowered herself back down to the floor. She got down on her knees in front of him. With her right hand she grabbed the base of his shaft and stuck his dick back into her mouth. She jacked him off while she blew him. With her left hand, she stuck her fingers down between her quivering legs and got them wet. She reached up and grabbed his balls to fondle him. She stretched her middle finger back behind his balls. Zecora was a wise woman, and knew exactly how to finish him. She found his anus, and then slowly slid her finger up.

Big McIntosh came. While he might have been under her control, all of his senses were heightened. He came hard and suddenly. He shot his load harder than he ever had in his life. She took his dick out of her mouth and let him cum on her face. It got all over her. Her face was nearly covered. Still, he shot more. Some of it got all over her tits. More shot clear over hear head and landed on her back.

He looked down as she smiled back up at him. Still more dribbled out and she let it fall on her. It seemed to dribble off her face and drip all over her body. Big McIntosh’s mind started to fade. His cum was a bright white on her black skin. It seemed to flow into a pattern, streaking off her face. He thought he could recognize it, but he couldn’t place it. She looked up at him with those big blue-green eyes.

Big Mac’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He fell over backwards. He fell through the floor of Zecora’s hut and into an infinite space. He fell forever.

Big Mac sat straight up in bed. His heart was racing and he was breathing heavily, nearly panicked. He looked out his window. Light was appearing on the eastern horizon. He looked down at his arm. It was tightly bandaged, and not with any kind of bandage he had seen before. He hastily undid the wrapping. He was cut underneath. It was the tell-tale claw marks of a cockatrice. He would have to re-bandage this later. He reached around his back and found more claw marks. These were shallow, but human.

He leaped out of bed. He nearly flew out the door. He saw his boxers were neatly folded on the chair, so he remembered to quickly put these on. Doing so, he rushed down the stairs and out the front door. This time Winona followed him, barking all the way.

He got down to the road and skidded to a halt. The Everfree Forest was to his right. The tops of the trees just turning a golden green in the rising sun. It looked the same as it always had. He stopped to listen for that noise, but it didn’t come. Instead he heard the crowing of one of his roosters. The witching hour was over. He turned back to his farm. Then down the Ponyville end of the road in confusion. Then back towards the Everfree Forest.

It was over. It was done. Big McIntosh didn’t know if he would ever see her again. He didn’t know yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He would have to think about that. Winona barked, and he looked down at her. He reached down and scratched behind her ears as she wagged her tail. He stood back up and took one last look at the forest. Then he turned back to the farm to do his daily chores.

He never said a thing.