"I'm going to stop you."

They were only five little words, but they hung in the air like a heavy fog. Diamond let them—they were his line in the sand. His promise.

His opponent didn't seem to see them that way.

"You—stop me?" Mane-iac's cheeks flushed dark with heat—and then she threw her head back and laughed, long and hard and utterly insane. All around her, the hundreds of tendrils that made up her mane writhed and squirmed in a chorus of echoing mirth. The sight of it would have thrown any pony into squeamish unease, but he was no pony. He'd seen much worse, done much better.

"You're cute," the villainess managed between chest-heaving gasps, once her cackling had subsided. "But you'd better scram, mutt—else I'll be less likely to forget all about you." The dismissive sneer despite the paroxysms of laughter was mildly more impressive.

All it did was irritate him more.

"I'm not a mutt," he said. He stepped toward her, fist clenched. "I'm Diamond Justice, and this is my part of town. You're the one who'd better leave—if you know what's good for you." Eyes to eyes, stance ready but not too tight.  Ready for the leap.

Mane-iac actually hissed. Her hackles went up, her eyes narrowing into predatory slits. "Do you seek to test me, puppy-slut?"

He hadn't managed rage, not yet, but he knew he was getting to her.  She inhaled, eyes bugging out as her barrel arched up and her myriad limbs writhed with spite. Her tentacles hefted the poor Diamond Dog shopkeep she'd pinned up into the air. They wormed around his wriggling figure, evincing a whimper of discomfort—and inevitable pleasure.

This was the Mane-iac's tactic these days.  Justice had been prepared for it; the shopkeep hadn't, and was paying for it now. His chest was already splattered with his own seed, his long tongue lolling out of the side of his muzzle. Below, the rubble of the destroyed storefront glinted wickedly in the twilight.

"Put him down."

Her eyes flashed hot. "Poor choice of words." And she flung her captive across the street, cackling like the madmare she was.

Diamond's muscles were tensed in a heartbeat.

Ten degrees.

Quadriceps bulged—thighs pumped—and in a blur, he was across the street, the shopkeep in his arms before a pavement kiss could be completed. In another flashing moment, he'd set the victim down, then turned to face Mane-iac again.

His opponent didn't look impressed. "So you can run," she said, flatly, and while her head remained still, her mane flicked arrogantly. "I've dealt with a do-gooder like you before."

Diamond gingerly cracked his corded neck. He could already feel the blood pounding inside his chest. His bicep—already swollen from sixteen to nineteen inches—flexed beneath his hide. His legs remained tense from his dash, his ankles ready to pivot. But he didn't let his gaze flicker for a second. He wondered if she liked surprises.

"I'm not like any pony you've fought before," he said. "And I'm no do-gooder."

"Clearly not," she scoffed. She eyed him up and down, licking her lips as though eyeballing a fresh piece of meat. No different, ultimately, from the still-climaxing grocer. "You're just a mangy mutt in need of obedience training!"

Diamond had already leapt aside by the time she sprang—but he hadn't accounted for the sheer flexibility of her tentacles. Halfway through the arc of his jump, a trio of tendrils whipped around Mane-iac's form and lashed straight for him.

He hit the ground hard. Diamond cried out, all the breath driven from his lungs from the force of impact. His proud legs throbbed in the vice-grip of Mane-iac's unbound mane, tentacles twisting around his thighs and tying them into place.

"Cute," she hissed from above him. He struggled, tried to get up—and found himself forced back into the dirt by the surprising strength from a limb of her animate mane. "Stay down, mutt. I'll make sure you enjoy this."

He opened his mouth to retort—and then choked as a fat, juicy tentacle rudely thrust its way between his lips. Leaking an ominous nectar that tasted more salty than sweet, it penetrated his muzzle with ease. He gasped for breath, nostrils flaring as his neck bulged around its girth.

Her mane was all around him—tentacles invading every crevice of his exposed body. Every contour of his chiseled muscles was obscenely caressed by a tendril of her mane, every angle ripe for molestation. Diamond's eyes widened when he felt an intruding weight pressing against his rear end—reflexively, he clenched his puckered hole tight—but even in disappointment, the fat tentacle returned to sliding lustily between his taut cheeks, each drip-drip of its predatory arousal leaking over the small of his back. All around it, its multitude of partners curled and writhed in delight.

Fangs glinted sharp in the light—and with a slice, Diamond bit through the tendril in his mouth. He hacked it up, only for a hydra's retort: a half-dozen others instantly competing for the freed space. And above it all, Mane-iac watched with a gleeful, crazed expression.

"I've never had a mutt for a minion before," she purred. A cackle slipped from her throat. "Stay still, pup."

Never! Diamond's temper flared hot, and he struggled. But the maelstrom of tentacles around him was nearly too much. He groaned, squirming as two slithered around his caninehood. His puppy's mast was already halfway emerged from its sheath, its tapered tip teased out with every expert twitch of Mane-iac's slick mane around his length. His plump orbs, fuzzy and taut with seed, churned between his muscular thighs as another horde of tendrils assaulted them. Tentacles swished across the surface of his nuts, taunting, teasing, raising the pressure until he was thrashing and grunting beneath her grip—

"Give up!" the Mane-iac hissed. Then she drew herself up, smile glinting with a madmare's glee. "You'll look cute, mewling and whimpering for me." He grunted—and she only pushed him harder into the dirt. "Maybe I'll even steal you a collar."

A collar.

His lips drew back in a snarl. Before he knew it, his ears had gone flat, his brow furrowed in rage. A number surged in his mind: Thirty degrees!

Bones creaked. Blood pounded in his ears. As the undeniable heat filled him, Diamond Justice groaned, eyes squeezing shut. He felt the preternormal strength rush into him like a waterfall, pushing out the Mane-iac's musk like nothing. And then—he began to grow.

His biceps swelled. Twenty-inch arms grew to twenty-five, triceps pushing outward until his unflexed arms were nearly the size of basketballs. His thighs flexed, pure muscle rippling until they were nothing less than miniature tree-trunks, his big canine's feet surging with size and width. With a grunt, he twisted his legs—threw his weight to the side—and felt his claws find traction in the dirt.

Big hands—big enough to hold a little pony's head in their palms—clenched into craggy fists, hard knuckles instinctively crushing those tentacles unlucky enough to lie in their path. His thick forearms, rippling with that burning strength, bulged and flexed as he threw his body forward, gathering up huge masses of the mane around his torso between his half-inch claws. His grip secured, he steadied his weight and tore.

Mane-iac withdrew with a piercing shriek. "You—punk!" She recoiled, her mane lashing back as if it'd been burned. In a way, he thought, letting the singed ends of the tentacles he'd ripped apart drop to the street, it had.

This time, the hissing sound came from Diamond.  Just not from his throat.

Steam rose from the seams of his palms. The few tenacious tendrils remaining around his body collapsed to the ground immediately—they, at least, could take a hint. Jagged fangs poking above his upper lip, Diamond drew himself up, standing tall before the wounded villainess.

Where before he'd born a toned stomach, a full six-pack now shone through, hide-covered muscles looking impressive enough to give a bodybuilder a fright. Protruding pectorals beefy enough to match a hoofball flexed, bouncing against the cool city air. Diamond exhaled, then let his eyes narrow into slits as he glared forward.

Pony mare?  Meet predator.

His shoulder muscles clenched and pulsed, his broad—impossibly so—torso rippling with hard, steely muscle. He groaned—grunted—as he felt the final inch of height slip over him, his spine lengthening to his new size. Then, he smiled.

An extra six inches sure helped when you were feeling small.

And as above, so with below. Between his legs, where Mane-iac's malevolent ministrations had previously teased a pup's victimized arousal, a massive canine erection now swung proudly in full view of the street. A jutting slab of masculine lust stuck out a good eighteen inches in front of him, its vertical ascendancy dragged down by its own ponderous weight. Below it, his balls hung low between his bodybuilder's legs, fuzzy orbs swollen to the size of cantaloupes, sloshing and groaning with virile seed. And upon his cock, a tapered, almost sharp tip slipped out into a pink, rugged shaft—before flaring out into an enormous, bulbous knot the size of his fist.

That knot throbbed in time with his heartbeat, blood pounding through his veins and roaring in his ears as tablespoons of precum drooled down onto the ground. Diamond Justice stepped forward—and the street seemed to shake with his very weight.

Mane-iac hissed. "I see," she spat. "You're some kind of heat-burning muscle-buster hero. No matter!" Her mane whipped around her, once more surging into a frenzy. "I'll still make you my mewling bitch."

As she flung herself forward, Diamond's lips pulled back into a sharp-toothed snarl of a smile. "I'm nobody's bitch," he rumbled.

But if there was one thing that "mutts" knew, he thought—his mighty cock flexing—it was heat.

In a blink, he'd leapt aside from the point of her impact. She crashed into the wall behind him in a yelp, dazed for the moment. This time, he'd been simply too fast for her scorched mane to follow. In that instant, he'd already rebounded, trajectory aimed straight for her exposed body.

Her mane came to her defense, but between the rake of his claws and the strength in his bulging arms, he tore through it like ribbons. He dove through that labyrinthine cloud of lashing mutant hair only to find—her.

She was surprisingly slender.

He'd always been cool-headed, but at his heart, he was as hot-blooded as any Diamond Dog male. And Diamond Justice wanted justice.

Letting instinct alone drive him, he grabbed her shapely hips and flank, his huge claws groping them both easily. He squeezed the supple flesh between his fingers, savoring her shriek of offense. They weren't the whipcord of the rest of her body, of her mane.  They were plump—soft—pliable.

Perfect for a breeding bitch.

His ragged breath was hot, even musky, as he leaned forward into her ear, big arms already wrapping around her sensitive belly. Their heartbeats struck against each others' bodies; her panic-struck into arrhythmia, his steady and pressuring

"Nice ass," he rumbled, voice deepened by an extra hundred pounds of muscle and size. "You shouldn't grow your mane out so much."

And then he plunged his fat, throbbing cock into her cunt.

His heat into hers.

She cried out in surprise—and then hissed in pain, his claws digging deep into her flesh. She twisted, squirmed, tentacles lashing all around him in a maelstrom of activity, but he held on without a flicker or a blink. Screeching with the displeasure of an enraged harpy, she drove her mane at him as a storm of piercing spears—until another jerk of his hips lodged his knot deep inside of her.

Mane-iac didn't screech so much as squawk, her voice failing a protrusion the size of his massive fist plunged its way into her constricting depths. Diamond growled, his deep voice rumbling as he sawed his way deeper and deeper inside of her. She tugged—struggled—strained—but no matter how hard she tried, the girth of his knot kept him firmly inside.

"Eager to get off?" he growled. "But the ride's only starting!"

Forty degrees.

He could feel his muscles bulging bigger, rippling, swelling, flexing larger. Wider arms, broader shoulders, his heart thumping like a drum in his chest as the hormones of growth pushed him into a breeding frenzy. He thrust into his bitch again and again, the guttural growling in his throat raising to a fevered pitch as she squirmed and moaned beneath him. The heat in him was an inferno—a furnace—a wildfire spreading and surging and growing even larger.

"Fifty degrees!" he snarled aloud—and grew again. She cried out as the heat of his member inside of him seared in time with his lust. He pounded her prime ass, each backthrust only wedging his knot more firmly in her tight cunt. He was enormous now—and she still the same size, a full-grown mare looking like little more than a cocksleeve wrapped around his monstrous member.

The writhing tentacles around him didn't even hurt. Couldn't. Even if they had, he wouldn't have noticed anyway—he was too focused on the burning, throbbing pleasure around his cock. The constant drumming against his taut rear—the stroking, caressing, pounding at his massive, beefy pecs—all of it just drove his arousal higher. Hotter. Lustier. Stronger.

Mane-iac's voice was shrill, but panting. "What arrre you?" she squealed.

"I'm Diamond Justice," Diamond growled. He grabbed hold of her mane by the roots in one massive hand, and lifted her body until she was held up by only the hardness in his cock. "And this—is your sentence!"

He bottomed out inside of her—and felt the dam break.

Testicles the size of melons churned and groaned as they output enough production to impregnate twelve bitches in heat in the space of a single contraction. Diamond roared aloud, his furry hide straining and stretching around his massive muscles as they bulged and flexed. His climax exploded inside of the criminal on his cock—a flood of hot, virile seed that burst into her cunny and rushed onward until it filled her very womb.

Mane-iac twisted, writhed atop him—then moaned, her muscles contracting rapidly as she came as well. One massive hand traced along the outline of his cock in her belly, felt the mare's hide stretched taut around his knot. He jerked his spasming shaft with her very skin,gave it a thrust, and moaned in pleasure of his own as she bounced atop his orgasming erection.

She was growing softer atop him—rounder, heavier. Fat and ready for litterbearing. The flood of his seed didn't stop, and at this depth of heat, the judgment of Diamond Justice was far more virile for any single villain to take. But take it she did, her stomach bloating, swelling, inflating as he pumped her full of gallon after gallon of his hot, steaming load. He squished his fingers into her middle, snarling with the temper of an alpha as he felt his spunk shift and slosh and swill inside of her. As he caressed her swelling cum-bloat, his massive biceps flexed around her ass. She moaned again, obediently cumming once more as his volleyball-sized biceps smooshed her plump cheeks together, milking his cock as his release continued inside of her.

"Who's whose bitch?" he rumbled, a chuckle beneath his words. She gave back only an incoherent moan, still writhing around the oversized canine's knot bulging out her overstuffed cunt.

The moan was answer enough, after all.

With a final shot of spunk, Diamond grunted in satisfaction. He flexed his cock once—and she popped off, released from the pressure of his knot. Her mane hit the ground after her, covering her figure as her marehood oozed his seed out onto the street below.

Diamond's grin widened ferally, and he nodded in satisfaction.

Justice had been served.