Keeping his eyes lowered and on the sidewalk, Blueblood numbly trotted along. There were a number of things that wore on his mind, but it was almost impossible for him to pick which one stressed him out the most. Glancing over for the umpteenth time, peeking at the hulking zebra walking just beside him, he timidly smiled.

He never would have thought he’d wind up voluntarily going through a seedy part of town, all while gussied up like some lowly prostitute, but that’s exactly the direction his life had taken. Though he wished he could blame somepony for his predicament, the circumstances in which he found himself were nopony’s fault but his own. With a heavy sigh, catching a glimpse in one of the closed storefronts he passed, he slowed and looked at himself.

If he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn he was looking at somepony else. His long, luxurious mane was perfectly styled, makeup was expertly applied to his face, each of his hooves was painted, and a matching black tube top and form-fitting bikini clung to his supple frame. He could easily pass for a mare until he spoke - even then, on the increasingly rare occasions when he did say anything, his voice seemed softer and more lilting than it used to.

“Mmmmm,” a deep voice hummed, drawing the unicorn’s attention. “What’s wrong?”

Looking over, Blueblood shook his head. “N…no. I’m j…just nervous.”

Standing just within reach, an utterly titanic zebra loomed over him. The stallion was absolutely massive, making him look downright tiny in comparison, yet his warm features and sympathetic eyes gave him comfort. While the giant, striped equine could easily be mistaken for a personal guard of some sort, that was far from the case.

“Babe,” the stud sighed, closing the gap between them and sweetly caressing the femcolt’s face, “there’s no need to feel nervous. A pretty little thing like you should enjoy showing herself off, and it’s not like anypony will mess with you if I’m around, so what’s there to worry about?”

Blueblood’s pulse began to race, the corners of his lips turned up, and he felt his stallionhood struggle against its silver confines, as he drifted closer to the stallion. “Thanks, Eze…”

Grinning from ear to ear, the stud raised a foreleg and lifted the unicorn’s chin. “Ah ah -” he softly tutted, locking eyes with the pony, “what did I tell you about that.”

“S…sorry, Daddy,” Blueblood hastily corrected.

“That’s better,” Eze noted, giving a small nod as he turned away. “Come on, the club isn’t far from here.”

Scampering up to and beside the colossus, shivering as he inhaled the zebra’s natural scent, Blueblood’s thought back to what had brought him to this moment. Nearly a month ago, as he’d been on his way back from a formal wine tasting event, he’d almost literally stumbled upon a mysterious creature. He’d initially thought the fiery-maned and exquisitely slatternly unicorn had been lost or possibly on her way back from visiting somepony in his part of town, yet that had been far from the truth.

The pony he’d encountered was named Sunburst and in spite of looking like a mare he was anything but. After a very short introduction, having apologized for nearly bumping into the odd little unicorn, the strumpet had brazenly solicited him for sex!Though he’d had next to no interest in doing anything even remotely amorous with the whore, the unexpected encounter did give him an opportunity to learn about something that had held his curiosity for years.

Offering to pay the femcolt for an interview, claiming he was working on some research, he’d brought Sunburst back to his home, made them some tea, and launched into a discussion about sissies. As a Prince and member of the aristocracy, he had certain expectations placed upon him - expectations that could be detrimental at times. It would be unthinkable for a stately stallion to be fascinated with the concept of crossdressing and serving a stallion, let alone a non-unicorn, but he had no control over his impulses. As he had chatted with his guest, growing increasingly excited to actually meet somepony who was living out his fantasy, his arousal eventually got the better of him.

It hadn’t taken long for Sunburst to notice his stallionhood, yet he hadn’t been bothered in the slightest - in fact, he’d been amused with his reaction. Having placed his tea down on the table, he’d leaned back in his chair, spread his hind legs, and shown off the chastity cage locked to his meager endowment, as he’d explained how similar they were. Though the pair were different in a whole host of ways, they shared rather taboo tastes.

He had hung on his guest’s every word, practically salivating as he was regaled with stories about a group of changelings and their lecherous little hive. If he hadn’t been a royal, he would have accompanied Sunburst back to the manor that very instant and demanded such treatment - regrettably, that would have been impossible. Even with the little hive situated outside Ponyville, some distance away from his home, there was a very real chance he’d be recognized and questioned by somepony.

As he’d gradually slumped in his chair, realizing his dreams would remain dreams and dreams alone, Sunburst had made him an offer. If he couldn’t travel to the changelings, perhaps there was a chance the changelings could travel to him. The love-bugs could use their metamorphic abilities and easily slip into Canterlot to pay him a visit, if nothing else than for a single night, so he’d instantly agreed to the proposal.

Sunburst had seemed just as, if not more pleased with the plan than he had been, and returned two days later with Talon, the leader of the sinful shapeshifters. Blueblood had been a bit nervous to meet an unreformed changeling, but he’d tamped down his apprehension and done what he could to be a gracious host for the parasite - not purely out of fear but because he yearned to be used by a big, strong stud. The good news was, once he’d confessed his perverse proclivities, the drone had agreed to make his dreams a reality - the bad news was there was a price.

If Blueblood wanted to be dominated by the drones, he had to prove it. He’d been given four weeks to work on his figure, acquire a wardrobe, and go on a date. The task had seemed easy enough, if not a little embarrassing, yet there’d been one additional stipulation that he’d been completely unprepared for. He couldn’t go on a date with a pony - no, he had to go on a date with a zebra. Though he’d balked at the condition, finding the primitive, striped creatures boorish and beneath him, he’d reluctantly agreed, shaken Talon’s hoof, and seen his guests out.

Practicing his makeup skills, altering his appearance with potions, and buying some tight-fitting, marish attire had been easy, but finding a date - sweet Celestia, finding a date that fit the bill had been downright impossible. He wasn’t even sure if zebras could read, let alone advertise their romantic pursuits, so he quickly found himself at an impasse - mercifully for him, he got some help from an unlikely source. Either out of pity, compassion, or some combination of the two, Sunburst had found him a prospective suitor.

Though he’d only met Eze a few days ago, he didn’t think he’d ever forget their first encounter. Nearly double his height and triple his mass, heaped with slabs of toned muscle, the banded stallion had appeared at his door one evening, introduced himself, and immediately began hitting on him. His largest concern about the encounter was that, even though he’d intentionally presented himself like a mare, he wasn’t one - a fear which proved wholly unnecessary.

Not only had Eze been aware that he was a stallion but that was evidently one of the primary reasons the big lug had agreed to take him out! Their first date had been, in a word, perfect; they’d gone out for a light meal, talked for hours, and he’d even managed to score a kiss before they parted ways! He was loath to admit it, but that fateful encounter had eroded a great many of his preconceptions about Zebricans.

Their second and third outings went much the same, although things took a turn on their fourth date. Barely able to control himself, having grown increasingly smitten with the stud, he’d invited Eze back to his home. Zebra or not, the glorious bastard was everything he could have wished for. The stallion was tall, handsome, and quite the smooth talker, not to mention he was attracted to femcolts like himself - in short, by the time they’d made it into his bedroom, he practically flung himself at the hunk.

Sex with Eze had easily been the best he’d ever had, there was no other way to put it. The stud had done things with him - to him, that defied explanation - sure he’d been walking funny for a few days, but having a sore ass had been a small price to pay for the mind-boggling orgasms he’d been given. Things couldn’t have been better, he’d successfully hit things off with a zebra, he’d managed to feminize himself, and he was fully prepared to submit himself to the den of changelings - that was until fate threw him a curve ball.

The only way he could prove he was dating a Zebrican native was to introduce Eze to the drones, and the only way to do that would be to bring his budding paramour to Ponyville. While the task should have been simple, an easy teleport to and short walk from the remote town, his stud had made a small request; before they made the journey out of Canterlot, he had to go out to a club - a zebra club. Until that point, all their meetings had been relatively low-key, consisting of visits to unobtrusive, less popular venues, so the idea of going to a bustling place set his nerves on edge.

His nature made romance a tricky thing. On one hoof, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for stallions to embrace their marish side whilst in public - on the other, his family and the Canterlot elite would be less than pleased if one of their own was wantonly traipsing out and about in such a shameful manner. Going on dates was all well and good, especially if he didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, but going to an honest to goodness nightclub was a different matter entirely - nevertheless, he’d hesitantly agreed.

“I can’t wait to show you off,” Eze chuckled.

With a start, Blueblood glanced over to find the stud lagging behind him. “What?”

“A couple of my buddies are dying to meet you,” the zebra clarified, hungrily eyeing the femcolt’s tush. “You really shouldn’t be so shy; you’re cute as a button, any real stallion would be happy to have you, and that ass - Mmmmph…” he trailed off, reaching out and nonchalantly running a forehoof up his date’s thigh.

Blueblood swallowed hard, finding himself torn. If he hadn’t been a royal, none of this would be a problem; he would have gone wherever the stud wanted, wearing whatever the stud wanted, and wouldn’t have cared less. As things were, he was left to hope he wasn’t being brought somewhere too conspicuous or crowded.

As Eze took the lead, reigning in his affectionate impulses, he followed along and wondered exactly where they were headed. It was very rare for him to go to this part of town, and it wasn’t like he’d ever had much of a nightlife for himself, so he was effectively going in blind. Rounding a corner and seeing him point to an inconspicuous stairwell leading to the basement of a nondescript building, he was even more confused than ever.

Looking both ways and crossing the street, Eze smiled over his shoulder at his date. “She might not look like much, but I’m sure you’ll love the place.”

“Really?” Blueblood murmured, uneasily grinning up at him.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” the stud smugly responded. “Remember how I said Zebricans like cute little sissies like you?” he asked, earning a nod from the femcolt. “Well this is a place for ponies like us - alpha studs like me and adorable little things like you.”

Giving a small nod, Blueblood kept quiet as his towering stallion led him down the stairs and through the front door to the establishment. He understood what Eze had meant the moment he stepped inside. The establishment was absolutely brimming with zebras, nearly three dozen as far as he could tell, and what few ponies he spotted were all adorned in extremely immodest outfits.

“Hey,” Eze began, catching his date’s attention, “you see that table over there?” Nodding to a table sat in the far corner, he shifted and waved a forehoof at the opposite end of the club. “How about you go get us some drinks then join me over there.”

The unicorn paused and scrunched his snout. “I’m not much of a drinker though.”

The zebra rolled his eyes and smirked, already moving away from his lover. “Trust me, it’ll help you relax. I’ll see you shortly.”

Abandoned by the entryway, Blueblood gave himself a moment to drink in the atmosphere. Though he’d only been inside for mere seconds, he quickly realized what sort of place he’d been brought to. A catwalk at the back of the cavernous chamber led to a dais in the center of the floor, music thumped from a number of speakers, and the exotic, unmistakable scent of zebra stallions filled his sinuses, while a number of the banded equines eyed him; it was equal parts thrilling and alien, leaving him both flustered and more nervous than ever.

Collecting himself as quickly as he could, feeling vulnerable without his beefy coltfriend by his side, he trotted to the bar. Not a single one of the zebras he passed said a thing to him, though he could swear he heard a few passing, very provocative remarks as he weaved his way through the crowd. A part of him was glad he was left unmolested, but another, far more lecherous portion of himself reveled in the attention he was getting.

“E…excuse me,” he stammered, reaching the bar and lifting and waving a foreleg at a short, svelte pegasus serving drinks, “I’d like to make an order.”

She paused and quirked a brow, drawing nearer to him. “Sure ~ what’ll ya have?”

Opening his mouth to reply, Blueblood only then realized Eze hadn’t mentioned what he’d wanted to drink. “Well - um - perhaps you could help me out. My coltfriend is from Zebrica, so I suppose I’ll take a popular beverage from those parts for him; as for myself, do you have any recommendations?”

The pegasus rubbed her chin and slowly wheeled around, peering up at the assortment of bottles lining the wall. “I’d say a pint of banana beer would probably be the best bet for your coltfriend, but for you…” she hummed, flitting up and plucking a decanter from the rows of beverages, “I got a cocktail that you may like. Give me just a second.”

Blueblood anxiously smiled, tearing his eyes off her as he fished a few bits from a pocket in his skirt. He could scarcely believe it - the cute, demure pegasus tending the bar wasn’t a mare at all. Like himself, the pony wore a little chastity cage around his package and sported a downright obscene getup. Sliding a hoofful of bits onto the polished surface, mutely speculating if she had a coltfriend of her own, he was served his drinks in a matter of moments.

As he reversed course and strolled through the club, trying and failing to ignore the lustful looks and sinful whispers from around him, his pulse quickened. He’d never gone without, having access to nearly limitless resources and the power that came from his position, yet he wondered how different his life would have been if he hadn’t been shouldered with his title. If he ever did lose his wealth, he took some solace that he might be able to get a job at a similar establishment.

Simply imagining what it would be like to work in the club, surrounded and undoubtedly hit on by countless numbers of big, strong, masculine stallions, caused him to tingle all over. There was no way that the ponies in attendance wouldn’t be getting positively ravaged before the night was out, and he certainly hoped he’d be amongst those getting a steaming load of seed pumped down his throat or into his ass. Lost to his imaginings, magically carrying the beer and martini glass with his magic, he reached his coltfriend’s table in what felt like no time at all.

“There she is,” Eze announced, patting an empty chair beside himself. “This is the mare I told you about.”

Hopping into the seat, Blueblood sat the drinks down before himself and his lover. “H…hello…” he mumbled, looking over at a trio of stallions that rivaled Eze’s size and build.

Having just taken a sip from his drink, he was pulled to the side and abruptly kissed by his mate. The affectionate gesture caught him completely off guard, causing him to start, but his surprise only lasted for a split second. His eyes drifted closed, he softly moaned into the stud’s muzzle, and he felt a warm dribble of pre-cum leak down to his balls, as he submitted to his coltfriend’s passion.

“You were not kidding about her,” one of the stallions chuckled, bringing an end to the pair’s impromptu makeout session.

“Yeah,” a second added, leaning to the side to check out her flank. “Hey, hot stuff, you gonna show off for us or are you just gonna suck face with your stud all night?”

“Show off?” Blueblood repeated, looking to his coltfriend in confusion.

Eze shrugged and snickered, waving to the stage and walkway that split the club nearly in half. “You don’t have to, but I’m sure it’d boost your confidence a little.”

Blueblood knit his brow and eyed the platform. “I don’t know…”

As fun as it would be to have an audience admire him, he had his career and name to consider - still, it was an enticing offer. He’d spent a fair bit of time and a good many bits making himself look as marish as possible, going so far as to practice moving in a more feminine way, so some acknowledgement for his hard work would be appreciated. Taking another draught from the fruity beverage, feeling a subtle warmth radiate from his belly, he peeked over when his lover’s hoof drifted down his back and to his tush.

“Just so you know, what happens in this club stays in this club,” Eze remarked. “This is a place for my people, so you wouldn’t have anything to worry about - plus look around,” he continued, motioning over to the side, “it’s not like you’d be the only pony enjoying yourself.”

Following the stud’s gaze, Blueblood’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but there was a slender earth pony practically choking himself on a zebra at a nearby booth. Bobbing and torquing his head, squatting on the floor with his prick bobbing and leaking to the floor, the pony shamelessly throated the large stallion’s length without a care in the world.

The depraved sight struck a chord, reminding him once again of all the things his stately status had caused him to miss. He loved his family, he really did, yet they’d steered his actions for as long as he could remember. Opportunities had slipped through his hooves in the past, things that he would always look back on and regret not doing, and he needed to break the cycle.

Pushing himself away from the table, he slipped to the floor. “You know what, buck it. What do I have to do?”

“Go wait by the stage,” Eze chirped, easing himself from his seat. “I’ll go let the DJ know that you’re gonna put on a show - don’t worry, I’ll be right there with you.”

Blueblood nodded and made a beeline to the dais, as his mate rushed off to make the arrangements. He was sick and tired of catering his actions to please others, acting how he was supposed to act, but that was going to end tonight. As he approached the stairs, hearing the music from overhead come to a stop, the lights around him dimmed.

“Mares and gentlecolts, it seems like we’re going to have a performance tonight! Put your hooves together for Princess Debutante!” the announcer blared.

Struggling not to grin like an imbecile, Blueblood instantly understood what his lover had done. He’d confided with Eze about his concerns on a number of occasions, being open about what would happen to him if his lecherous secrets were revealed, so he was ecstatic to hear he’d been given an alias. Swaying his hips, moving at an unhurried pace, he strutted up onto the stage and under the spotlight.

The second he stepped onto the center of the platform, he broadly smiled. Dignified circumstances or not, he’d always been quite comfortable in front of a crowd - that being said, this was not like the august dinners or ceremonies he’d attended at the Canterlot castle. Slowly exhaling and closing his eyes, he spun on a back hoof, threw his head back, and twirled in place.

While he was far from a stripper, he’d attended enough ballet classes as a colt to have some grasp of putting on a show. He wasn’t as small as most mares, but regular exercise and yoga, as well as the various positions Eze had put him in in the bedroom, had left him remarkably limber for a stallion. As he executed a flawless fouetté, revealing his cage and pillowy backside, the room instantly exploded.

The adulation from the onlookers stirred emotions in him he’d never felt before. He felt beautiful, elegant, and sexy as all get-out, but, above all else, he felt at peace. It was only at that moment that he understood that this was where he belonged, entertaining real stallions in any way he could, and that revelation filled him with colt-like glee. Growing more bold with every passing second, shaking his ass and enticingly gyrating his hips, he worked the crowd into a frenzy.

He couldn’t say if he’d danced for minutes or days, basking in the zebras adoration, yet things came to an end before they felt like they’d truly begun. Pressing his chest to the platform and raising his waist, he flicked his tail to the side, reached back, pulled his buns apart, and felt something bump against his rump. The surprising sensation of something or someone pressing against him shattered his reverie and caused him to peek over his shoulder.

“Why so surprised ~” Eze rumbled, his voice like boulders cascading down a mountainside, “I thought I said I’d join you?”

Looking past his coltfriend’s face and to the dangling, midnight-black length gradually swelling beneath the stud, Blueblood’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been impressed with himself for summoning the courage to perform, but the sight of his lover’s gargantuan endowment chipped away at his reservations. He’d already shown himself off, going so far as to display the plump, darkened pucker and chastity cage, so would it really be that bad if he made his solo a duet?

Shifting and crawling toward his mate, his mouth beginning to water, he was stopped as Eze held up a hoof. Remaining where he was, looking up at his lover’s smug expression in confusion, the stud slowly turned and faced away. Seeing the titan’s striped hindquarters, weighty nuts, and pulsing backdoor, he drew his tongue over his lips.

Crossdressing had been a well-kept secret of his for ages, but that was far from the most degenerate obsession he had. Shameful though it was, he’d always - always had a weakness for stallion ass. Something about a muscular rear, preferably with a pair of fat balls, got him worked up like few things did, so seeing his coltfriend’s big, sweaty bottom struck a ruinous blow against his timidity.

Ignoring the spectators’ excitement, he pushed himself up on his forehooves, leaned his head back, and dove his snout into Eze’s immaculately presented tush. The musk which filled his nostrils, the salty, bitter flavor on his tongue, and his view or lack thereof stoked the fires of his lust into a raging inferno. Audience or not, his concerns were reduced to one thing and one thing only - making out with the zebra’s behind.

Though he could compose himself in front of nearly anypony, through all manner of circumstances which may have shaken others, he wasn’t without his weaknesses. He was quite fond of sucking cock, he savored the sensation of a thick cock in his ass, but he absolutely loved rimming beefy studs. Sunburst had guessed his admittedly ignominious penchant stemmed from his noble background, having something to do with a fetishistic desire to be demeaned, and he wasn’t wrong. Something about performing the debased act never failed to get him worked up, in spite of his high societal standing.

“That’s right,” Eze softly growled, rocking back and grinding his rear against the unicorn’s face, “I want to feel you sucking on my hole.”

As he ran his tongue around the thick ring of flesh, Blueblood’s eyes rolled back. It was hard to think that he, a distinguished noble from a long, illustrious line of unicorns, would so eagerly defile himself - then again, that was part of the appeal. Royal or not, this was where inferior stallions like him belonged. His hips began to spontaneously buck, sending ropes of pre-cum slinging to the floor, while his mind slipped into a haze.

He could have stayed where he was for ages, yet it wasn’t meant to be. Sensing the stud shift and step forward, leaving a strand of saliva connecting him to his mate’s pucker, he opened his eyes. The cleft of Eze’s tush was smeared with his makeup and lipstick, letting him know he had to look like an absolute mess, but the titan wasn’t about to let him get cleaned up.

Turning to face him, Eze lifted and spun a hoof. “Face down, ass up. When I said I wanted to show you off, I wasn’t joking,” he grunted. The pony instantly complied with his orders, shuffling around and bracing his hind legs, and he smirked because of it. “That’s right, raise those marish hips of yours.”

Blueblood kept one eye over his shoulder, watching his lover rear back and mount him. The weight on his back, the hooves digging into his upper thighs, the aroma of sweat and arousal wafting to his nose - each and every facet was incredible, but it was the sensation of his mate’s stallionhood kissing his pucker that ultimately broke him. Drawing a breath, he peered up at the zebra’s face.

“Do it,” he breathed, his voice no fainter than a whisper.

“Louder,” Eze sharply countered, his gaze sweeping the crowd. “I want them to hear you.”

Looking out over the audience, seeing all the excited, expectant faces, Blueblood gulped. He wanted it - sweet, merciful Celestia, he wanted to get plowed so bad, but the reminder that he had dozens of eyes on him gave him a moment for pause. While he’d looked pretty lascivious when he’d entered the club, now he must have looked like a total cock-slut. Everypony in attendance had seen his cage, watched him feast on his stud’s ass, and he’d presented himself without a second’s thought, although there was one last step to his little exhibition.

“Please,” he lamented, wantonly shaking his tush and reaching between his legs to paw at his winking, needy hole, “fuck me!”

Eze beamed and drove his hips forward, sinking his considerable length into him. The sensation was divine, sending a gout of pre from his chaste prick, as he quietly whimpered and tried to stay relaxed. Even though he’d been mounted and screwed by the adonic zebra on several occasions, the feeling of having something nearly as big as his leg crammed into his ass was more than a little intense.

Feeling his mate bottom out, his coin purse utterly dwarfed by the stud’s prolific, weighty balls, he was given next to no time to relax. His body was hauled back by Eze’s withdrawal, nearly setting him off balance, before he was sent careening forward by the stallion’s first true thrust. A shuddering gasp escaped him, as he was driven to the very brink of what he could endure in an instant.

Falling into steady rhythm, Eze draped himself on the unicorn’s back and reached downward. “Gimme your leg.”

Blueblood unquestioningly hiked his hind leg, allowing the stud atop him to grab his fetlock and wrenched it upward. His startled yelp was completely drowned out by the din of the spectators, as his dripping, caged colthood was put on full display. It was a motifying turn of events, humiliating beyond belief, yet the combination of his distress and arousal was thrilling beyond belief.

“Tighten up, Slut,” Eze commanded, hammering into the femcolt, “show everypony how you milk my dick.”

“Y…yes, Daddy,” Blueblood mewled, rhythmically clenching and relaxing his stuffed hole.

As appealing as it would be to keep his head turned to watch Eze rutting him, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the crowd. The way the zebras longingly eyed him, with the few ponies in attendance jealousy gawking, he was pushed closer and closer to his limit. On the very cusp of release, lurching forward with each of his mate’s plunges, he was snapped from his blissful daze by a bright flash.

He scanned the club in a panic with a sudden tightness in his chest, and the blood in his veins turned to ice. Though the zebra leveling a camera at him may have passed for any of his striped kin, he instantly knew that wasn’t the case. The subtle green flash in the stallion’s eyes, the bared fangs, and the twisted smirk sent a chill through him; he wasn’t looking at a Zebrican at all - he was looking at one of Talon’s cronies.

It was hard for him to pick them all out, but he spotted no fewer than three disguised changelings snapping pictures of him. The heady cocktail of dread and pleasure, realizing they were getting material that could ruin him, pushed him over the edge. With a euphoric wail, his p-spot absolutely crushed by Eze’s thick medial ring, he blew his load over the stage.

Uncaring of his climax, completely undeterred, Eze continued jackhammering into him. Even if he’d wanted to escape, he wouldn’t have been able to move. His strength was sapped, it was almost impossible for him to form a thought, and the pleasure his lover afforded were all-consuming, sending him into a feedback loop of ecstasy. By the time he sensed the stud beginning to peak, feeling the pistoning stallionhood within him flaring and throbbing wildly, he’d literally had every drop of impotent seed fucked out of him.

Unleashing a triumphant bellow, his lover hilted and claimed him for all to see. All he could do was wheeze and blubber uncontrollably, as his gut steadily swelled. It wasn’t the first time he’d effectively become a living condom for his lover, and it assuredly wouldn’t be the last, yet the experience never got old. By the time Eze was finished, panting and huffing on his back, he could easily be mistaken for an expectant mare.

“Smile,” Eze muttered, glancing over at one of the drones. “Your friends said they wanted to memorialize the occasion…”

Blueblood reflexively grinned, cum-drunk beyond all reasoning, as the changelings drew nearer and snapped a number of close-up shots. He was too exhausted to care, lost to his euphoria, though something told him his next meeting with Talon may come with a few additional conditions. As one of the shapeshifters extended a foreleg and brought a camera right to his groin, inches from his chastity cage and spasming, battered pucker, he weakly laughed. As long as he could continue to be used and abused by the zebra - his zebra, he’d be willing to do practically anything.

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