Thunder And Lightning

Story by FluffyPony on SoFurry

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Thunder And Lightning

Today was special for club Equus. To give the normal employees a break from an exhausting week, the manager would instead go out to hire exotic dancers of the mare persuasion and call it 'stud's night.'

She had hired many over time, but there were two whom she never had off her roster for the event;

Thunder was a lovely creature of shire stock. She supposed that anyone her size would receive such a title eventually. Just imagine what her laugh or very hoof-steps must sound like!

The decision for the black and white colored equiness to become a dancer was not an easy one; the draft breeds tended to have a bit more of an issue with dignity. As far as Thunder had known, stripping was strictly something for ponies.

For mares, anyway.

As far as stallion dancers, there was no obvious limit to size; each stud was desirable for a different reason. Draft equines for their giant members, and miniatures for their coy cuteness in the act; no limit.

A draft MARE; that made the whole affair somewhat awkward.

Nevertheless, Thunder took it in stride with her gentle patient gait, her thonged buns practically roaring with sound as she felt them slap each other with every spin and twirl on the bronze pole which almost every stallion had fucked in one way or another.

Her breasts too, (in her imagination, at least) also seemed to make noise with each flipping arc through the air. Rounded, perky, and soft as velvet, even large enough to smother the average man to death under their plump fatness, her tits were a prize to admire as she took the teats to her muzzle and licked them even as the sound overtook her into greater diversions and pleasures of noise in the heart.

She could hear the heat between her legs like a soft winding brook in a forest, trickling wetly into her thong and down her thighs in sticky trickles of estrous-laced juice. Her eyes were wide and alive with the sound-almost crazed as the fluid leaked so visibly from her crotch onto floor, staining her white thong into blatant transparency, almost making her look like she was wearing a sheet of grocery store plastic between her great legs, plump black labia lips now visible in the form of a shiny glistening cameltoe.

And even as the roaring, raging torrents of her passion overtook her, Thunder could only blush as she danced, as a rainstorm vied for supremacy in her horny equine passage. A big girl with a big storm brewing in the most intimate of places, and only a stallion could ease the tempest wailing within like the most demanding of hurricanes.

Suddenly, the passion calms-false sense of security, Thunder knew; just the eye of the storm before her mare tunnel splattered her g-string with a gallon of juice, which would only drive the stallions even crazier in their horniness.

Please, she begs to the storm, afraid of the coming downpour, afraid of flooding the stage with her special juice like a true equine slut, losing all draft equine pride to the final defiling betrayal to her ego-not by a horny patron or the act itself-by her very body.

Damn you heat day! Why can you not wait for a stallion? I will sate your fury soon enough, just please let me keep my dignity intact as I do my job!

But the storm between her thighs ignored her, a squall wind raging for the power of erect stallion cock to hammer it back into the calmness of the sea. And every passionate second, every swing on the stage, every swing of her hip, drip of her fluid on the black wood of the catwalk, she felt the storm rage nearer to the little dwindled shack of her pride, threatening to rip it to shreds without discernible mercy.

Thunder was standing in the way of nature itself; nobody could stop the ways of the wood or breeding shed, that was impossible!

But can it be delayed, pacified for just an hour-please an hour! That's all I want!

But the storm took no heed; now only thirty yards from the delicate woven walls of a quaint little grass shack-within her pride.

For pride is an equines' soul and heart-destroy either, and the creature could be ruined forever.

Lightning was a spunky little palomino Shetland with a conniving cleverness about her. Diagnosed earlier in her life with ADHD, she learned to turn the disorder to an asset, much to the surprise of her dam, sire, and eventually-customers.

They would gawk with shocked faces the way she ran and flittered from one part of the stage to another, or from one lap, to another's lips in sudden bursts of movement like a pony version of a hummingbird.

It was no surprise, however, for anyone, once people (as in populace of equines and humans) started naming her Lightning. It was only appropriate, as her body sprung through the air and twisted around all over the place like a boomerang or crossbow bolt-

Or a lightning bolt; streaking to find grounding on a customer's pants for a flashy and quite electrifying lap dance of her superheated muscular buns and fiery horny nymphomare pussy, breasts being juggled right into the customer's face!

Sometimes, when the customers went back stage for a more personal show, the Shetland would eagerly seek the upright comfort of their 'Lightning rod', filling them with static ecstasy for the entire day because of her usual charged up horny personality and the tenderness of her small pony body.

Like voltage alive, each touch of her hot skin was like the electricity of her desire, burning and melting easily, the conduits of male sexual arousal into one morose horrid mess at the realization they could never truly own or tame Lightning to their wishes; she was everywhere, and no one stallion could own her heart no matter how they wished or tried.

Oh, the pony had fun teasing them, to be sure. But every equine realized with 'shocked senses' that Lightning would never go to ground in any of them, no matter how shiny and high their steel rods, or desperate in begging they become, the Shetland ignored them, saving herself for true charged polarity elsewhere.

She rubbed her silver thonged crotch all over the blue-jeaned lap of a quite blissful bay Clydesdale, drenching the very cloth with her juices without shame in quite an amped show of her sleek little body.

"You like that, don't you, you studly slut?" She whickers, sliding her silken hand along his slack jaw.

She felt his steel rod under her butt, giggling with the surprise of it, as it began to lift her up a few inches. She smiles, planting a kiss on his cheek, loosing herself from his grasp like light itself-into the lap of another, fondling the other stallions' crotch quite easily with that silky mound of pussy hidden by the thin cloth of her thong.

Being a pony, she had no problem with teasing the stallions; besides, that's what mares did. Put a little of her love potion in front of their nose, and watch them go krazy out of their minds like on the lap of that shmexy clyde.

She spun around her pole, grinning, flirting her tail about to cast parting glimpses to the patrons of her fine gold furred buttocks, throwing her mane about, now crouching down with her plump silver covered mound right in the face of another stud of a blue roan color.

"I got a fifty! Can I take a peek down your panties as I clip it on?"

She smiled, winking, grabbing her thong and pulling it open enough for him to do something else entirely.

"Ooooh. My pussy is getting cold. Maybe your fifty will warm it up. Care to stick it in there?" She teased.

The stallion, unable to contain his lust did as she suggested, ripping his hand back in shock as everyone heard a loud snap like a heavy book being dropped flat on the floor. He stared in surprise at the device she took out from her thong as everyone laughed in horny delight.

"Shocking, huh?" She asked, dropping a small mouse trap on the floor without care.

Soon, the stallion admitted the humor of it and chuckled himself.

"Care to try again? Maybe a certain stud will get lucky tonight?"

He took a second to look at the trap, shaking his head.

"No, your ass will be fine for me." He declares, still holding the very bill he had tried to stick over her vulva as he tried to get a feel of her sexually charged pony goodness.

"Unless you've booby trapped that as well." He mused.

"No, but my boobies might have traps; wanna see?"

And before he could say anything, she shoved those toasty bronze melons into his face, smothering him blissfully between their plump softness.

Thunder could only give a muted squeal as the tempest roared and raged in her ears; in her nether maw. The friction created by the clouds of her thighs was damning, as she rubbed them together, futilely trying to keep her control from exploding in a violent sonic boom of marish fury.

The downpour of her overcast cloudy pussy came in gasping sloppy torrents down her black legs and white feathering, soaking her fur a darker hue even as she stomped loudly with her hooves; almost a march of thunderous proportions, the stage trembling under her overbearing force; shaking under the force of Thunder.

Each moment the tempest raged within her, gave her new respect and fear of the power being unleashed within. Undeniable, unceasing, forever hungry was the rainstorm between her loins.

Had she been a fool to assume she could control such a fierce elemental wave of desire?

The rain comes in steamy trickles, wafting vapor flowing into the very nares of horny studs watching with complete interest and barely harnessed erect members in their pants. Oh, the smell of a musky horny mare was more fragrant than that of any other species; it tempts males from all over miles away to the gaping needy chasm borne at her billowing equine thighs.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Listen to the very stage tremble with every stomp of Thunder!

Like big drums, like enormous bass, like a slam of a giant door-the sound of her crushed all other thought from the stallions' heads save the simple pleasure of taking Thunder to stud with their throbbing stallion tools.

Can her very heart be so loud, that it may beat those listening into the eternity of their lusts and simple-minded stallion pleasures?

She ignores the angry black clouds in her mare passage, trying to keep track of the music playing and lose her thought there, instead.

There, the reprieve was slight, but reassuring. She whisked her tiny black stub of tail excitedly, fanning her large tush with the even well-kempt hairs. She felt that at least as far as drafts were concerned, ponies could not compete with a giant plump sexy ass or a nice hefty pair of black furred watermelons like hers.

A pony can visit a hundred laps in an act, with the horny energy they possess; particularly Lightning-but Thunder was packing real heat with chest bazookas and two buttocks loaded with nitro-any lap dance the shire gave would blow the customer away!...if it didn't accidentally kill them first.

She laughed wryly, thinking about that one;

She had put ponies and humans (who were about as big as ponies) in full body casts by the weight of her disproportionate body. No more lap dances for anyone smaller than a carriage horse; that was policy no matter how rich or horny the customer was.

Or the shire really MIGHT kill someone, turning her body into a lethal rumbling weapon of flesh, the barest touch of her bass able to shatter bones under the roar of its power.

She was on the stage, spinning on the bronze pole, her bared thonged crack twined around the metal like a polished gold hued toothpick, despite the fact that a normal standardbred equine could not even wrap his hand around the width.

Alas! Her cheeks blushed with humiliation at the streaming puddle of fluid from her crotch, and the feeling of her ass completely swallowing the fireman pole between their warm fatness.

And truly, such was the nature of Thunder; though she stayed in one place, the loud ragged clamor of her estrous-laced breathing shook the walls about as if everywhere at once, sound for one second given presence-given life.

Plenty of life in Thunder, but too, there was loneliness. The all-encompassing racket of her roar was the only company she had-erstwhile dominated by a boisterous shyness within the very core of her thundering drum-like heart.

Lightning could feel the change in the air like a sudden change of atmospheric pressure, drawing her amped body towards thought of the sudden taste of the other mare; a scent-more than a scent cascading like ions through her mind in greater pulsing waves than the current carried on a power line.

The polarity of it-this smell is the negative to my positive! Lightning thought with wonder as the roar filled her tiny over excited heart with a sudden affectionate awareness in the other; polarity for once in her life like the most charged of voltage-induced equine desires, blinding her with sudden electric fury zapping through her very body as if the sparks contained life.

Such voltage! What a roar of static abandon! A beautiful smell, she who it belongs to; that is the one who I am magnetically charged to love.

Does she feel my energy? The force of my chaotic power driving into all who come to bear their glances in the soft brown of my sharp shocking eyes?

Let Lightning zap some sense into this unwitting lover! Let the super-charged electrified pony wander no more in her teasing blasts of humor full voltage-laced pranks, flitting from one warm lap to another without any real obligation or care other than to the trick itself.

Was Lightning not a joker? The way it blew trees apart or knocked golfers down when they were stupid enough to try their game in a storm?

Another lap bare, another steel rod laid bared to go to ground with the rushing thrusting piston of a stallions' motor as she pressed his buttons or squirmed on his generous sized wire of erect machinations.

Like batteries, stallions were built to harness the erotic ohms of my body, but they cannot harness me among the circuits and steel of their raging oiled forms forever; Lightning either retired (slept) or fled.

But the smell-and taste of the other mare, the electrons within her very estrous hormones! Such had more power over Lightning than the sight of a thousand plump bulging shiny metallic rods of stallion meat.

She began to fantasize about the negative to her polarity, dreaming of strange fantastic things to do to her musky desire.

In a split second-she could shoot off the stage like a sea nymph, declaring her undeniable magnetic attraction for this other creature.

That gave the normally outlandish pony some pause-what if the other was not an open conduit towards Lightnings' advances? What if the other found fault in Lightning-in her very energy?

No, everyone loves a spunky energetic half-naked pony.

Everyone who's a stallion, she grimly mused, frowning.

Damn it! Why was this the one time that the boldness of Lightning would fail? It would hurt if the pony were to discover that this mare had her heart enshrouded in cold clammy rubber to deny the effect of Lightning upon it.

Thunder heard each shake of her breasts rumble with loud declaration, a pound of chaos drumming into all ears like the march of elephants upon hollow ground. For each deafening crash, for each roar of her oversized delicious sweaty round cheeked butt, stallions listened-and they liked what they heard.

"Yeah! I like me some badonkadraft!"

To see sound alive on a great being was of a rarity; ponies never make so much noise as a giant draft pumping her legs upon the stage, shaking her tits with thunderclaps of horrendous vibrating intensity.

Thunder was frightened not only of the clamour of her body, but of the force within, shaking her resolve to pieces until to her horror, her panties might eventually erupt a torrent of her warm personal sex fluid upon the stage, where her lust could no longer be hidden.

Already, her black skinned mare mound was almost completely visible to the crowd, her white thong now becoming invisible from absorbing much of her musky heat-scented juice. With each march of her legs, and spin upon her hooves, one could see the lips of her labia almost perceptively part, embarrassing her more than ever with the shame of her estrous passion.

"Wow! Look how wet she is!" A white and brown paint stallion declared with a horny laugh, as Thunder held a hand over her crotch briefly in embarrassment.

"Damn, she might break my hip, but it's so worth it!" A blue furred Pegasus observed, licking his muzzle.

"Fuck ponies! I say I want love by the ton!" loudly proclaimed a chestnut morgan stallion.

Thunder felt degraded under the scrutiny of these customers who saw her as nothing but something big and warm to fuck in their beds. Thunder was not just lonely, she was misunderstood;

I'm not like a pony; I don't get up on here to be a pin-up for fapping-I'm artwork, grace, a masterpiece of equine flesh. I'm not a whore!

All of those wide-eyed horny glares, the waving of money, the ignoble shouts of obscenity-Thunder ceased having fun at her job tonight when her heat came upon her unexpectedly, and the lewdness of the lecherous randy studs only made her feel worse.

Oh, god! No draft mare deserves this! I'm not just something to make a male put up a tent; I'm more-poetry, elegance, sophistication, Victorian sensuality.

Each minute of those defiling looks, of the tempest inside her thighs vying for one of them to fill her snuggly with his member, of the degradement of such a proud vain creature such as herself.

Thunder was ready for the black storm clouds of her heart to rain, even as she felt the starting of tears in her eyes, slowly beginning to drip down her severely blushed cheeks.

Thunder was raining.

Lightning danced with every movement creating parting blinks like the flashes of light in near darkness during a terrible storm. Sudden light among pitch blackness of an overcast dreary world during an elemental tempest.

The pony flirted her white tail to the side, bending over, her breasts hanging in the air as she began to spank her plump flashy golden buttocks with fervor, laughing with an unmistakable electric cackle from the very deepness of her lilting furious being.

Every second with Lightning was a jolt directly to the soul, frying everything into permanent oneness leading towards an ultimate goal of divine electric lust; rapid shreds of blasting waves rocked the body, making the muscles involuntarily react to the sizzling heat of the shiny hot golden body that was Lightning, one shocking little pony to gaze upon, her silver thong glittering like the very metal that would attract her the most easily.

It's all elemental; just plug me into the wall and watch my sparky little body go!

The frustration and pain of the other was translated to Lightning instantly like a shock into hell itself; for one second-one irreversible flash; Lightning became the flesh of the other; lived in the other.

She...She is Thunder! Intuition and instinct telling the pony all she needed to know without pausing or looking toward the other stripper in the middle of her own act.

Then, after becoming the other mare; her frustrations and problems laid bare, Lightning knew Thunder was the negative to Lightnings' unusual optimism and energy. What horror the poor large creature had in her.

Lightning went back stage briefly, putting a peculiar sign up on her own stage, carrying a long thick object in her hand as her customers with their own 'shock' only followed behind at a respectful distance.

Lightning could only smirk as to the event which would soon follow-to the edge of the big stage, where the great beautiful shire desperately tried to dance and hold herself together.

The horny stallions watched Lightning in fascination as she took the object from her hand and proceeded to fasten it about her legs like a belt, grinning in her mischievous way more than ever.

"Hey Thunder!" Announced Lightning, as the pony climbed the stage, gasps of shock at the thing between her little gold pony legs.

Thunder was losing it; she was going to cry, and run off, and get her ass laughed off, and flood the stage in mare fluid, and lose all dignity in herself like the filthy slut she was.

"Hey Thunder!"

Thunder looked over towards the voice of another mare, the big shire mares' jaw dropping like it had been tugged down with a weight.

Her gaze fastened on the giant yellow transparent thing jutting from the ponies' thighs like an obscene protrusion.

The size of it was amazing; no pony could ever be hung like that; Lightning had at her crotch a giant thoroughbred stallions member cast in sex toy rubber, firm and erect at all times with no need for erotic display to keep it firm.

"Like it, you big dripping slut? I named it Thor cuz it's gonna rock your world like the dirty equine whore you are." Lightning declared, giving the firm unyielding thing between her legs a tentative thrust like it was meant to, the shire blushing and giving a shiver in response.

"I'm not a whore." Thunder protests, thumping one hoof on the stage loudly in annoyance.

The palomino simply walks up to the bigger creature, taking the sodden musky thong in one hand, ripping it off in one flick and tossing the garment out to the middle of the great gathering of watching stallions, smiling in amusement as they begin to fight over it.

The great plump folds of the shire's pussy spill out a little, no longer held at bay by her panties. Thunder squeals indignantly as Lightning takes her small hand, digs it in the big mare's slit, and rubs the slimy juice along the shiny rubber of a seamless ersatz cock.

"Today you are, bitch. Get on all fours and let mistress Lightning get to work on that hungry hole of yours-unless you want one of THESE horny bastards to do it?"

Thunder looked at all the horny stallions; all eager to claim her as their own in undignified fashion and form-taking advantage of her one day where she had no choice but to acquiesce to one of them.

She realized that Lightning had given her a way out of the horrible situation-the tempest at her loins would not contest stallion member for pseudo cock at such a desperate time. Numbly with some hesitation, she obeys the small bundle of energy with the huge dick, crashing to the stage with a loud bang; not unlike that of the fiercest of despotic storm fronts.

Lightning smiled as she took her hand and rubbed it along the black plump slit before her, a most attractive butt and short tail wagging in her face-Lightning plunges her muzzle between those lush buttocks of fatty rounded muscled flesh, inhaling deeply of the shire femmes' murky natural tailhole smell.

In spite of herself, the large mare giggles, tickled senseless by the whiskers of Lightning's muzzle upon the large black sensitive shire rose bud; the opening puckering from the strange contact and the whuffing of the ponies' breath upon the delicate wrinkled skin.

"Prepare yourself for the true power of Lightning!" Declares the pony.

2000 watts of desire would plunge into the deep darkness of the shire with one rough shove.

8 ohms would spear through her like lust unyielding in one flash of desperation.

200 volts ready to tear into the tender flesh of Thunder, searing a jagged mark into her very being with the enormous scale of the unfettered power.

Lightning places the tip of the yellow colored toy at Thunder's nether lips, separating them slowly with a delicious slide of her slick passage, almost looking like the blooming pedals of a black rose. Lightning wished she could feel what it was like to take Thor on a heat day like this; where each tick of the skin burned for electric release into the fuses of her equine box.

Halfway in her pussy, and the big mare practically drooled copiously from her mouth, ready to beg for the serious fucking her mound demanded. Her vulva drooled itself, begging further of the thunderous force between the ponies' legs.

"Ready to scream, bitch? I'm gonna create some friction in ya and make ya roar, Thunder!"

The big mare could only close her eyes, brace her thick muscular arms, and nod, as the little palomino licked her lips in the coming act of desecrating and melting a shire's pussy like butter in a microwave, ready to watch the cream of that dripping cunt strike the floor in fat blobs of sticky hot fluid upon the black wood of the shiny ultra reflective stage.

Lightning looked on briefly in surprise as the colored lights blink briefly and erratically like the flashes of a real Thunder storm, a fire sprinkler going off from above, cold rain spraying their bared bodies like chilly reverence.

Then, Lightning is 'shocked senseless' to hear a new song come upon the speakers, courtesy of the club dj; "Stripped" by Rammstein.

Lightning immediately tore the monster phallus from the hungry tunnel of the big horny horse femme.

The music courses through lightning, giving her butt a nice bounce, as she walks around, sauntering about the great creature subservient before her-appraising the big shire for the fitness of a worthy whore.

She sits on Thunders' back, smiling to the customers, rubbing her great length of fake rubber phallus.

"All of you had a pony ride, but I bet you never had a pony ride you with one of THESE!" Announces Lightning, digging her nailed fingers into the tailhole of the draft mare, Thunder bucking a little under the sudden sensation.

"Hey slut. Did I say you could move?" Lightning chides with a laugh, spanking the shire on the ass with one good pop, making that great black furred ass jiggle.

"... 'let me see you stripped'..." Comes the guttural German voice of the lead singer for Rammstein.

"No mistress." The big mare squealed out in a roar of voracious heat-laced noise.

"That's right." The little pony said, slapping the head of her strap-on cock and making the length of it wiggle like a grotesque long piss colored muscular snake.

"Now, does bitch want me to take the passion away with my favorite toy? And you better not say 'is it in yet', or I'm gonna have a field day on your poor starving twat!" The pony snarled in a menacing way, hopping down from the wide back of the great black mare.

But Lightning hesitates, ducking under the prostrate draft, looking hungrily upon the soft dark hanging breasts and erect nipple flesh. Lifting one to her small gold muzzle and nibbling softly into the tit tip, licking and sucking like a horny filly on the teat. Lightning thought that it was wonderful to taste the salty sweaty furred skin of Thunder, but regretted the lack of milk.

The pony drops under, now on her back with the two hanging breasts right in her face tempting her further to play the foal.

Thunder began to shake and rumble like an earthquake with the impish little horse under her quadripedic frame, licking the breasts and rubbing them in her face with animalistic pleasure, cringing with a cute little whinny as pony juice dripped onto the once immaculate dryness of the stage, her fluids mingling slowly with Thunder's constant steamy dripping torrents.

Then Thunder squealed as she felt the pony bring up her leg and tickle her giant black pussy lips with her little hoovie, rubbing along the soft shire skin and spreading the lips and juice all about her large thighs; the area between her legs further slick and shiny from her own secretions.

Thunder's belly quakes with the powerful feelings of her own hyper-sexed equine body. The tiny hoof is removed from her nether lips suddenly-surprising Thunder, for she had been relying on that magic pony foot to bring her to completion.

"Put it back in there!" The shire begs, drooling.

The pony ignores the request, her mouth full of delicate flesh as she responds with a muffled reply.

"Lightning never strikes in the same place twice, slut." The palomino teases, wrapping her thin legs about the belly of the draft and lifting herself off the ground, proceeding to reverse belly ride the bigger mare, thrusting the erect rubber phallus between the snug space of those succulent breasts, making them jiggle even as Lightning still had their hanging warm plumpness shaking against her soft golden cheeks.

Each delicate pump of Thor is only a prelude of further pursuits behind. The great shaft spears easily through the satin fur of the horny equine draft, demoralizing the strength in those arms. Lightning knew that if she went on further, the shire might accidentally drop and crush her under a ton of pure horsie mass.

Lightning shakes her face between those large orgasmic breasts one moment more, falling to the floor on her butt almost painfully with a shriek of surprise. The waterfall of shire juice tempts the Shetland into completing the act of her desire-and maybe-

LOVE...

This teasing is different, she thinks with amusement as Thunder nickers in the direction of the pony, swinging her great studious stoic face about to stare into the electric brown eyes of Lightning-even as the music played-even as water coated their bodies in drizzling streams of defined shining elegance.

The moment lasted forever, a jolt cascading through their bodies and soul like a burning bolt from a tempest close by-a tempest of lust within the two.

"Time for my 'Lightning bolt!" The pony demanded, stepping delicately about the lovely rounded slap-tacular buns, looking at their simple divinity from the scrutinizing eye of an affectionate fan.

Lightning laughs with a ponyish cackle, grabbing the fat gelatinous flesh of an ass cheek in each hand, spreading them wide for a delving view at the prize between; the glistening flashing grace of the slick winking rose, every second the clitoris popping out like a rare pink gemstone mounted upon a cherry red pulpit.

"Do you see how bad I want it? Fuck me Lightning!" The big mare pleads, her muscular butt wiggling.

Lightning slaps the right cheek as hard as she can, making the big mare squeal in surprise.

"Quiet bitch! I said Lightning never strikes the same place twice!" The palomino yells with impatience.

The draft mare cringes in fear, a worry in her of never sating the beast in her copious dripping lower opening.

Suddenly!-

Thunder screams as the massive length of it shoots into her pussy like a spear launched full force, the head threatening to split her apart.

"But Lightning is never so predictable either. Remember how some men have the luck to be struck numerous times and manage against all odds to survive?"

The greater mare braces her sensual body against a phallic assault-

That never comes.

"The first was a freebie bitch. You have to beg for me to fuck you the rest of the way."

Thunder could not believe her ears! The pony was thrusted deeply into her, and there the shaft would stay until she begged that lightning fuck her. The maelstrom of estrous within her passage roared loudly like a stomach rumble; unsatisfied with the slick jagged mass of rubber resting inside.

"Fuck me! My pussy wants it so bad!" The shire screamed, blushing at her own slutty behavior, the pony behind licking her little lips in unsated desires of her own.

"What's the magic word, you slutty maresie?" Lightning taunts.

"Please?" The shire offered, tightening her thighs and vaginal walls around Thor, desperate for any contact in her pussy at all.

"No, slut-the other word-the one you hide from the world. What are you?" The pony reiterates.

"A dirty whorish bitch." The shire responded, drooling, wiggling around that slick yellow shaft impaled inside her like a thick plug.

"That's right. Now sit back while Lightning hammers you with a barrage of her powerful electric blasts on your poor misused stallion hole!"

Then it began like a delicious force upon her needy body, each shove into her pussy like a breath after a hard run, like a sip of water in the desert, like a slow emancipation from cruelest personal slavery.

Break the chains of pride and show me what it is to love and be loved!

The pumps of the great fake member pummel the need out of her rapidly, her ecstatic drooling as plentiful as the cascade of hot musky mare fluid down her thighs. Every punch of the great manufactured cock lifts her out of the pit of her denials, and into the clouds, where the two of them may yet be separate but one in one entity of elemental twilight.

The big cock hammers her hard, her breasts shaking with each rough shove of the lustful pony's loins. Every thrust like a bolt of Lightning through her entire body, shocking her senseless with lust. For a moment, all Thunder can do is close her knowledgeable patient draft horse eyes, lost to the passion of the waves of voltage coursing through her horny body.

Then the build begins-the build to end all climaxes she had known in her life. What she once thought was a tempest, is now a tsunami ready to be leased upon her delicate twat.

Behind, the pony moans herself, one hand down her silver thong right behind the hammering mega cock, rubbing herself senseless.

"Oooooh! I wanna fuck whore mare so hard!" Lightning declared, her lovely tail flitting about with each determined stroke of her lusty golden body.

Hot sweet smelling juice begins to drip from Lightning's pussy, mingling with the fluid already saturating her silver panties from the great wet heat scented opening in front of her busily thumping honey hips.

The tip of Thor cannot mushroom at orgasm like the penis of a real stallion, but at the very least, the Thunder god did not tire or release it's seed too soon in the coupling.

The god of Thunder; Thor became the mare's entire world, her entire subject of worship. She cannot help but think of the reaming of the great member at her insides, tapping her viciously to her long-sought release of natural hormonal passion.

The rapid breaths, the moans, the closed eyes, the bracing of a muscular over eroticized body; Thunder was the ultimate love slave of Thor-a disembodied equine penile replication manufactured in a factory for the general cost of less than a hundred dollars.

She was made helpless to love a merciless pounding rubber toy-the only thing standing between her need and her desperation for a good piece of equine meat to demean her for a stallions' own gratification, the fear of being discarded like a black furred horny courtesan.

Closing her eyes for the briefest of moments allows her to hear the rumble of the storm clouds deep within her twat, eating away at the very resolve of her control.

Like rain, like Thunder, Lightning released, the storm front tears through her being, drenching the stage with her fluids even as her belly and mare tunnel convulsed with racking convulsions of climactic energy, a roar from between her legs echoed from all over the room; a sound of Thunder the likes of which never heard nor described anywhere else in the dawning of the world.

It was a unique echo of her own raging horny equine spirit, bouncing off walls like a tempted cackling ghost of sexual amusement.

And the rain-Thunder heard that too, in slick sheets of howling soaking droves, splattering on the stage and bared flesh with wet smacks of brief smothered noise.

Thunderclaps follow her heart into the world of sound; into the possessing divinations carried out in her jiggly red-lined passage by the shaking, spearing bolt of Thor-seconds burned and shattered through her body like days in glimpsing the parting flashes of a dissipating maelstrom.

It lasts so long, that tempest, that voltage inside-but it is almost over-

My maregasm is almost over.

A sodden twenty slaps her wetly in the face, awakening the big mare to the sensations behind of the pony rescinding the plump rubber cock from her tight hugging draft horse depths; each centimeter scraping along like streamers of silk deftly pulled out.

Soon, the monster dick is out, falling to the ground with a soggy splash, the much lighter thump of Lightning's heavy wet thong sliding down her legs in one sudden drop, pooling at her ankles as the pony carelessly kicks out of them, her soft furred gold pussy peeked open for a second, showing a pink slitted eye of her insides.

"Bitch. Get up and start dancing!" The pony roars out, tapping a tiny hoof in impatience as she nods reprovingly at the bigger horse.

Thunder blushes as she rises, the entirety of her body drenched with water, her mane stuck to her head in clumps, her short stub of a tail equally stuck together. Lightning looks like a true pony as she tries to flick her drenched forelock away from her eyes, the silver-white hair of her mane stubborn and tangled-needing a good brushing out with a curry comb.

Thunder rose to her weary feet to see the pony spin around the edge of the stage in the practiced controlled spinning of a top, all over the place-twirling like a gold furred naked ballerina and loving every minute of it, her tail out, held aloft by the constant air blowing upon it.

Watching Lightning spin was a hypnotic sight; a blur of soft bronze in constant motion, little perky bright copper titties flopping about begging to be felt. The act had become less of a show, and more of a thing of artwork.

Beauty-a pony is a thing of grace. Why did Thunder think that ponies were whores? Lightning was quite dignified and elegant, even disrobed and hiding nothing.

It's me; I put my emotions in front of the importance of the show.

Suddenly, the little pony spun not about the corners of the stage like a golden tornado, but instead into the surprised outspread arms of Thunder.

"What the-" Thunder begins; startled, barely feeling the delicate touch of a paper bill tickling her in the ass with one careless toss of a randy pawing stallion.

"I am electricity; elemental power unharnessed,' the pony looks up into the deep blue eyes of the shire, grinning like a gremlin, 'but you are Thunder, and the friction you create between us gives me strength the like I've never felt."

"What a surprise. I have a big effect on all those I meet." Thunder wryly declared, slapping her tush with a soft ripple and a 'Thunder clap' of rumbling noise, the echo appearing to sizzle right through the yiffy little palomino.

"But you are the only one worthy to ground me. I go to ground-my voltage dissipates and melts into your greatness, heart and soul."

Thunder closed her eyes, feeling the cold clammy wet fur of the small form in her affectionate arms, nodding with a whicker.

"Beautiful creature. You tempt me with every taste of those sensuous smiling lips, those flashing gemstone eyes, and the astounding energy of those ceaseless wagging pony hips." Thunder declared as the little creature in her arms cried with joy, even as water continued to rain down upon them; even as every touch of bare skin created the barest tingle of static between their desperate affectionate bodies.

"But I have humiliated you so...what may I submit to in order to make all things be as if they were forgiven?"

To this, Thunder simply declared;

"I am a very maternal mare. May I see what a cute little pony looks like in a diaper sucking on her binkie?"

The palomino could not help but laugh, as she saw the gathering of stallions stare at the two mares dripping wet-soaked-drenched-held in sopping embrace under the harsh uniting power of the rain itself.

Arising, arising, arising.

Go Thunder and Lightning-

From earth, floating up into the fabric of a most wonderful dream.

Desire the Everest we climb everyday

And lust-the animal-inclined are we to obey

Comes like no morrow-a sudden kiss of my lips

Barest shaking-lightly quaking-lovely rumble of the hips

Thunder!-let her body rumble!

As her flesh roars-it leaves me ever humble

Call out to her-make her power tame

Without her love from up above, all of life's the same

Hear her tear through the space

Like a heavy echo in your face

Demanding all worship for her force

The simple love for a heavy horse

Lightning; like a mystifying jolt into dreams

Gold and silver everywhere; shiny flashing beams

With energy like electric; tousled hair gone wild

Now stands lustily a pony, form now reviled

She tempts with her magnetic thighs

All erections and sets of eyes

Breasts in their face, cute butt on their lap

Burning through clothes, muzzle kisses like a trap

Don't forget every Ohm of the pony girl

Don't take your eyes off; watching as she twirls

Don't ever try to keep her; her heart always flees

Why does she go, often ignoring a stallion's pleas?

Thunder And Lightning;

Two mares are quite frightening

Look at them perform; the gait on their show

Bespoke a secret within, only the two can ever know

Look at how they act, when in the presence of the other

Call me crazy or nuts or whatever, but I think that THEY are lovers!

Lightning is a lesbian; never straying to a male

Much to their shock; with a horny wail

The voltage of her rocks the pair

For affection of the shire mare

Leave them both be; just let them dance

Just be happy to watch and rub your lance

Like polarity alive; like magnetic attraction

Neither will relent their love even a slight fraction

Let the watts flow out; the power spike on the pony's face

They dance in peace and love; filling out the whole place

*Bay Clydesdale stallion in the work is a featured appearance by my friend KrazyStallion; whom loves to kiss the equine girls as much as I! ^_^*