It was a wonderful, sunny day deep in the heart of the Texas, and a familiar man in a white Texan rigdora sat in his office, sorting out his paperwork for the day. DrBorisG, the commissioner of the 4chan ***, had a lighter payload of work to do during the Christmas break, but the Winter teams were already out training at local fields to keep warm and build up their skill for the upcoming Elite ***.

As he sorted out the last of the paperwork for the day, Boris kicked back and put his legs up on his desk. He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. "Awwwwlright, got the rest of the day to myself," he lazily noted.

His rest was broken when he heard a knock on his door. Boris sighed impatiently as he remembered that there were miscellaneous matters still to attend to. Usually, these were appointments made by players or staff, but Boris didn't have any for the day. "Come in," he called out.

The door opened, revealing the likes of VedFX, senior promitional designer of the 4chan *** Committee. "Boris, one of the players is here to see you," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Ugh, he should know about the appointment scheduling thing, right?" Boris groaned.

"Yes, also it's a she," Ved responded, "and according to the papers, you haven't got an appointment for the entire day."

Boris rolled his eyes. "Might as well make it quick, send her in, Ved," he huffed.

Ved nodded and said something inaudible to somebody outside. Boris sat straight up and twisted his back, relieving his discomfort. Ved gestured for somebody to enter the office. In walked a woman in her early twenties, literally being a full-kit wanker. Boris knew by the kit and the captain's armband on her left arm who he would be speaking to. The woman sat down on the cracked leather chair in front of Boris's desk.

"Hey, Ved, before you go," Boris hastily added, "change the board so it says I'm not in so I don't get anymore unscheduled appointments."

"Gotcha. If you need me, I'll be at the main office pleasuring myself," Ved remarked, closing the door behind him.

Boris groaned, his voice cracking in his throat. He turned his attention to the woman in the chair, the newly-named captain of the [s4s] squad, gently kicking her legs up and down and bouncing in her seat.

"Alright, Keksandra, what can I help you with?" Boris plainly asked.

The woman fidgeted with her jersey and looked down, mumbling something inaudible.

"I didn't catch that," Boris responded.

"I wanna win the ***," she blurted out.

Boris leaned back in his chair and exhaled. "Keksandra, I've been over this with you, the only way you can win the *** is if you git gud," he explained to her.

She wasn't deterred by Boris's quick dismissal. "But we already got gud, and we're always losing in the quarter finals to meme teams!" she whined. "I'm the captain of the best meme team!"

"Yeah, well, whining isn't going to help win [s4s] a *** now, will it?" Boris countered. He knew first hand how difficult it was to deal with Keksandra with her constant bitching and moaning. However, Boris's last remark seemed to have put her in her place.

"I guess not..." Keksandra grumbled.

Boris huffed. "Are we done?" he inquired.

Keksandra paused and rubbed her shoulder. "N-no..." she murmured.

"What now?" Boris groaned, growing more and more impatient by the second. "I've really got no time for games, Keksandra. Make it quick."

"Can't you rig the *** for us?" she asked.

Resting his elbow on his desk, Boris put his forehead in his hand and let out an exasperated sigh. "For the last time, Keksandra, there is no such thing as us rigging the ***!" he answered. "Is this about /mlp/?"

"Yeah, they're all saying you guys made /mlp/ win!" Keksandra complained, "and that they were changing the formations and stuff for each game and... and like, you were giving them all the tactics to them and stuff!"

It dawned on Boris that, sooner or later, there would be a vendetta against the 4chan *** Committee, demanding an investigation into the practices within the organization. He knew that the Committee couldn't keep up with the good guy act. What Keksandra said was true, but not how she explained it. Plain and simple, the Committee was actively rigging /mlp/ to win, and it took them until the 2015 Summer *** to perfect the method they used.

Nowadays, with such a perfect method, what was the point of using it again? If they fell back on old methods, /mlp/ wouldn't win anymore cups. If they continued to use the perfect method on /mlp/, everybody would suspect funny business and the whole thing would be exposed. The horsefucker conspiracy already existed, encompassing half the managers and the entire Committee. What was the point in risking it?

Boris couldn't concede and let the *** be fair, that would be suicide for /mlp/. But a smug smile crept over his face as an idea formed in his head. An idea so clever that everybody would still get mad, and nobody would suspect anything about favoring /mlp/.

"Why not let the /mlp/ proxies win the cups?" Boris pondered. "Nobody will ever know..."

"Mister dum-duuuuum!"

Boris shook his head, returning to reality. "Ahg-guuu hwat, ahem, sorry?" Boris stuttered.

"Why so sleepy, dum-dum?" Keksandra asked.

"Y'know, Keksandra, you should stay for a while. I have plenty of time to go over all your concerns," Boris smiled, getting up from behind his desk and walking to the door.

"I just wanted to win the ***, though..." Keksandra said.

Boris locked the door and walked to Keksandra's chair. "Hey, everybody gets a chance to win the ***," Boris assured her. "I mean, if you put in all the hard work and pray for RNGesus everyday and y'know..." He stood next to Keksandra with a sly half-smile on his face.

"Y'know what?"

"...get active with the commissioner just this one time..."

Keksandra's eyes widened. "W-what? What do you mean?" she asked.

"What I mean is take your kit off," Boris ordered.

"But..."

"JUST DO IT."

The motivation in Boris's voice convinced Keksandra to do as she was told. She stood up in the middle of the room and slipped the captain's armband off of her arm. For some reason, she paused.

"No, keep going. Take it all off," Boris commanded.

"I don't feel comfy doing this, Mister Doctor Boris," Keksandra croaked.

A stern look from Boris was all she needed to keep stripping. Off came her yellow and white jersey, soon dumped in a heap on the floor. She untied the laces on her football boots and pulled her aching feet out of them. Seeing Boris watching her like a hawk, she peeled the socks off of her legs. As she slipped her white shorts off, she grew more uncomfortable at being forced to stand in front of Boris, wearing just her sports bra and Spandex shorts.

"Not bad," Boris commented, observing Keksandra's figure. No muscles or anything, but she did keep a pretty athletic, curvy figure.

"What's not bad?" Keksandra nervously mumbled. Boris approached her, taking off his leather jacket as he walked. He tossed the jacket aside and hugged Keksandra from the back, his hands firmly grasping her stomach. Boris inhaled the scent from the woman's hair, ripe and fruity with certain Turkish delights.

"Smells like somebody uses Obsession For Memes," smiled Boris. Keksandra squirmed gently, but didn't want to make any sudden moves, lest she accidentally hurt him. She felt one of his strong hands tracing up her body, slowly, slowly, until he gently groped her ****** through her sports bra.

Boris kicked off his work boots and tossed his rigdora aside. "You just calm down and let the Doctor do his business, Keksandra," he sultrily cooed in her ear, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans with his free hand. "I'm going to prescribe you a dose that you'll thank me for for years," Boris continued, shimmying out of his jeans and kicking them away. "What do you say to that?" he asked.

"T-thanks, Doc..." Keksandra stuttered.

"That's right," he whispered, his tongue slowly gliding up Keksandra's ear. She bit her lip and whined. Whatever this 'dose' was, it was supposed to help her win the ***.

Boris let go of Keksandra, took off his shirt and flung it aside, leaving the two in their undergarments. "Okay, now take them off," Boris ordered Keksandra.

"I don't wanna..." Keksandra protested.

"You want this dose?"

Keksandra nodded and grabbed the bottom of her bra. She lifted it up, freeing her ******* from the confines of the Lycra. The pair jiggled and bounced ever so slightly as Keksandra finally freed her head from the hole. She dropped the bra on the floor and pulled her Spandex shorts down, revealing her tidy-looking ***** tucked between her legs.

"Niiiice..." Boris marvelled, his stoic expression telling all. He quickly slipped his underpants off of his body, revealing his half-erect **** and prime Texan manbush. Keksandra saw Boris's **** and blushed furiously. "Alright, on your knees and lube me up," Boris demanded, motioning to his penis.

"What do you mean?" Keksandra asked, getting on her knees.

"Virgins..." Boris muttered before pointing to his ****. "Put that in your mouth and make it wet."

Keksandra gulped and held the growing dick in her thumb and forefinger. Truth be told, this counted as her first time. The throbbing mass in her fingers begged for warmth, to penetrate and to blow. Keksandra gulped again and pressed the glans of the penis onto her tongue.

Boris inhaled sharply, grimacing euphorically as Keksandra inched his dick into her hot, humid mouth. He let out a labored moan and gently grabbed a handful of her hair. Keksandra reacted uncomfortably, mouth full of ****, so Boris let her go. The woman's tongue gingerly licked the shaft, tasting a slightly sour, slightly salty flavor on the skin.

Slowly but surely, she gave Boris's member as good a licking as she could muster. She managed to dredge up spit from the far corners of her mouth, ensuring a good wetness. A little bit of Boris's pre dripped out of the tip, mixing in with the spit that wound up coating his penis.

The elegance of Keksandra's tongue nearly drove Boris mad. He almost wanted to just blow his load straight into her mouth, right there and then, but he knew he had another hole to penetrate. He pulled back, taking his slimy dick out of Keksandra's mouth.

"A-ahhh-alright, I think that's... that's pretty good," Boris grunted, gulping. "Get on your hands and knees and turn around."

Keksandra, still with the taste of **** in her mouth, did as Boris said. It gave Boris the first full glimpse of Keksandra's untouched holes. While he would have chosen her ***** any other day of the week, the rigging method had to be executed perfectly; A daily dose of this level was not child's play.

Boris's hands clutched Keksandra's chubby bottom and opened the crack up. He moved forward, inching his tip towards his destination. Keksandra bit her lip and closed her eyes, knowingly preparing for her dose. The tip of Boris's dick pressed up against her wrinkled hole.

"This," Boris declared. "is how I made /mlp/ win Summer, you know."

He forcefully pressed the **** into Keksandra's asshole. Lubricated with the woman's spit, the **** slowly squeezed deep into her. Keksandra gasped and breathed sharply, a hint of pain over her face.

Boris felt his **** being smothered by the woman's ridiculously hot insides. Her anus tightened as a reaction to his movements, squeezing his shaft. He kept pushing his member inside, until he can feel Keksandra's soft bottom pressing on his pelvis.

"Y-you alright?" Boris asked.

"Mm-hmm..."

Boris didn't ask anything else. He slowly pulled back, bringing all but the tip of his penis out of Keksandra. With a little bit of extra speed, he pushed it back in her, then pulled it out a little faster.

"Nuhhhh..."

Judging by the moans, Boris knew that she was enjoying the dose. His pace quickened until the schlapping of his dick filled the room, accompanied with Keksandra's high-pitched pleasurable squeals.

Boris may have looked like he was ******* Keksandra all-out, but he was following the exact dose method. One wrong move and the dose would have to start over. Thankfully, frequent *** with horses and men helped fine-tune his skills.

Keksandra's tongue flopped out of her mouth. Her breathing was labored. Her squeals were wild. She thought that the dose would hurt, but she was pleasantly surprised (and now she was being surprised pleasantly).

"Awanna faaaaster!" she squealed.

"Can't, gotta follow the dose method," Boris said matter-of-factly. Though he desired to grind his dick through all of Keksandra's holes, he had a job to do.

He continued to pound away at Keksandra's ass, feeling the resistance of her insides decreasing with every solid thrust. The slick, warm insides massaged his penis in all directions, eagerly trying to milk him dry. Keksandra could feel Boris thrusting into a sensitive spot, forcing her leg to jerk around.

"Nyaaaaah!" Keksandra squealed as she peaked, squirting clear, warm fluids all over Boris's legs. It took the rigger by surprise, but not enough to break his concentration. The thick, shameful smell of sweat and *** increased with every passing second.

Sweat dripped from their ***** bodies; Boris from his hard work, Keksandra from pleasure. He recalled how loose Best Pony was before the Summer ***. This one was a hell of a lot tighter. Even though she was loosened up, she was smothering his **** as if she wanted to choke it to death.

His throbbing mass was preparing to finish the dose. The rising heat in his shaft told him that the time was now. His grunts grew louder, louder, louder. Keksandra's cheeks burned a solid crimson.

"Almost..." Boris wheezed, the slapping of his hips on Keksandra's ass rapidly increasing. He felt his **** swelling, throbbing with liquid pride. "Just... a little..."

With a final, powerful slam, Boris hilted Keksandra. He let out a mighty Texan "YEE-HAW" as his thick, white dosage pumped into Keksandra in spurts. He rode the orgasm all the way, through every single spurt. Keksandra's ear-splitting screams of joy could have practically alerted the entire block, as she felt the tirade of Boris's goodness spilling into her.

Keksandra's asshole squeezed and smothered Boris's still-cumming ****, milking him for all his testicles could hold. The sticky waves of semen in Keksandra continued to increase until Boris was utterly sucked dry of cum.

Boris pulled out of Keksandra, leaving his half-flaccid, glistening **** flopping uselessly between his legs. Keksandra tightened up, keeping Boris's payload sealed within her.

"Thanks, Doc..." she wheezed, slowly standing up and gasping for air. A little trickle of Boris's cum dribbled down her leg. She wiped the drop up onto her finger.

"Alright, I think... I think we're done here," Boris panted, noticing Keksandra's finger. "Go ahead."

Keksandra licked her finger and grimaced. "Yucky, the dose is salty like /4ccg/," she groaned as the two slowly dressed themselves back up. After a few minutes, both Boris and Keksandra were dressed in their clothes against, albeit somewhat disheveled and reeking of shame.

"Am I gonna win the *** now?" Keksandra asked.

"Yep, the dose should be perfect," Boris responded. "Now, you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"Now that you're part of the horsefucker AND rigging conspiracies, you cannot say ANYTHING about what you experienced today," Boris demanded. "You got that?"

Keksandra fiddled with her jersey. She gulped. "Mm-hmm..." she nodded.

"Alright, have a nice day," Boris said as he unlocked the door. He opened it and allowed Keksandra to leave.