Her tiny horsepussy is stretched to its limit by a Human cock, forever ruined for weak little pony stallions. Not that Octavia has anytime for ponyboys anymore. Ever since the Occupation, her life has revolved around Humans: her musical inspiration is Human works, her instruments are Human-crafted, her audience is Human, and now her foals would be Human. Her heritage, nearly a century of pony composers and musicians, now lives on though her to serve Human culture, through the domestication of her womb, the Humanization of her lineage.