Twilight's Thrones

by Troublesome Beast

First published 25th of April, 2016

When you're the leader of a group of six alicorn princesses, you should get a kicking throne, right? Twilight samples a few of her friends along the way.

The first of the Elements of Harmony to become a hyper-busty, huge-hipped, mega-muscled giantess, Twilight Sparkle has long found herself as the strongest and most sexually needy of her friends. Even as the others ascended, Twilight found that none of them could quite keep up with her lust or her dominance. Through the magic of friendship, and basic ethics, Twilight's stayed sane and kept her relationships with the others close and loving, but sometimes, they push her, and she pushes back.

Specifically, she makes them eat her out, for hours on end, enjoying using her best friends' faces as the best thrones for her perfect ass and horny pussy.

She also finds it to be an excellent study aid. Join Twilight as she packs for a long trip, and, one by one, her friends just seem absolutely determined to "force" her to own their faces. Almost as though that was the plan.

Warning: Character in cover art is substantially buffer and bustier than she appears. Cover art was found as #1029514 on Derpiboo.ru; belongs to artist: toughset and used without permission. Will take down if PM request is sent.

Kinks: All chapters are lesbian domination based, with a heavy emphasis on on physical domination, oral sex, and analingus. Objectification, wrestling, gentle/loving teasing/humiliation, power play, footjobs, and pet play also included.

Chapter 1 - Wrestlemare-ia (Rainbow Dash)

"Just one more!"

"Not right now, Dashie."

"C'mon, please?"

"No!"

"Chi-ckkkkeennn?"

"We're herbivores."

"..."

Twilight happily returned to reading "Assertive Discipline" by Cantering Lead. Sure, her classroom was basically one pony at this point, since Starlight Glimmer was more of an aide, but it never hurts to bone up on technique! And hopefully, having re-oriented Dashie to an orthogonal argument…

"I can totally take you this time, Twilight!" came the probably to be expected interruption, and Dashie's cyan hands, tough but, thankfully, respectful of the book, came down once more, pushing Twilight's chosen relaxation material to the table.

"If you hurt the spine…"

"Egghead, please. I got this. Just like I've got you this time, for real!" Dashie said confidently. In most circumstances, being a seven foot tall alicorn princess with taut muscles on a super-gymnast's frame might have given the Princess of Loyalty and Storms a reason for such confidence.

Twilight snorted, and reached over with her free hand. She knew her friend and fellow Element, and tickled the sensitive spot right under her chin. "I said no, Dashie! I'm reading. Hopper only has a few more lessons before his grand tour!"

"Which will have lots of boring time sitting around for you to read boring books you won't need because Hopper is BORING if you don't push him! Look, I'll be your best friend!" Dashie pleaded, wings fluttering.

Twilight sighed, pulled her book away and carefully placed a bookmark in it before adding it to the "Rainbow Dash Killed My Book-ner" pile. She stood up, casting her shadow over the smaller alicorn, and leaned down to look at her, a slight, if annoyed smile on her face. "Dashie. In order of insanity. To start with, we, as Elements, have been friends for nearly eight years and are each others' primary social, professional, and sexual interactions."

Twilight tried to ignore Dashie's best lascivious face, which came off more like a teenage mare trying to trap her intended stallion in the corner of a school hallway-- less lustfully scary and more prankster. She raised one of her massive arms, and held up her right thumb. "That's one," she said, and extended her elegant pointer finger before saying, "Two, I am a foot taller than you but three times more massive as opposed to the expected one point four nine two seven irrational sequence for our respective heights.”

Dashie looked up at Twilight, and licked her lips. It was true, and not just because of Twilight's intensely amazonian frame. A nice padded layer of snugglable and intensely curvy plushness covered the immense alicorn's hips, ass, and mighty thighs, not to mention the gigantic melons currently heaving over Dashie's face, making her own Ds look like her pre-alicorn As. "Makes for a nice view?"

Twilight laughed softly, but shook her head. "And three, I have-- for the aforementioned reasons, and because I am an older--"

"By like, a few years!" interrupted Dashie.

"... I am an older alicorn," Twilight insisted, "With a portfolio that literally includes your own. What makes you strong, well, makes me stronger." To emphasize that fact, and because Twilight did love it when her friends gushed, she stood up to her full height and curled her giant arms upwards with her fingers cupping, palms skyward, as she bulged dangerously from limb to limb and pec to pec.

Dashie didn't verbally groan, but the way she was shifting in place told Twilight that Dashie would have to change her thong soon, and Dashie’s' otherwise plain sports bra put her cute little nips on display.

"There, see?" Twilight said, and tried to think if there was a different topic she could get back to studying up on. She’d be away from the Canterlot library for two whole years. If she needed refreshing on anything she intended to teach, Twilight knew she had to take care of it now.

"But I can totally beat you this time! I even have an egghead reason," Dashie protested. As Twilight planted her knuckles on her broad, foal-brooding hips, she arched an eyebrow, and Dashie blushed purple under her hide. Almost meekly, she held up a book, and Twilight was shocked.

Not that she doesn't read occasionally, Twilight thought, but it's a non-fiction book! Of course, it was about competitions; "Arm Wrestling: the Science of Leverage," definitely was something Twilight could see stiffening her Dashie's lit clit. She let out a heaving sigh and sat. "Oh, alright. Stakes?"

A rainbow swirl formed as Dashie twirled upside down and all around in the air, skillfully using the magic of her unicorn's horn to defeat inertia even more than usual. "Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!" she squealed, and then coughed, looking embarrassed at Twilight, ruffling the back of her rainbow-striped main. "Er, usual stakes, maybe?" Dashie said hopefully. It's not that she'd ever gotten the chance to do Twilight with her griffon-model strapon, but she kept one well maintained and otherwise untouched when her winning streak turned around.

Twilight planted her right elbow on the table, palm under her chin as she considered Dashie. Given her druthers, Twilight would rather either wear a sensible robe when in the Elements' private section of her palace, or, with the unquenchable lust that had followed her transcendence, perhaps just be completely naked. Efficiency in all things, and it wasn't like she needed a bra: Twilight had sufficient back strength (and regenerative capabilities) to make sure her breasts’ mass never caused more than minor irritation.

Rarity would have none of it, and to Twilight's shock, the rest of her bevy of otherwise loving friends and wriggling little submissives had joined Rarity in a giant pout until Twilight had given in and agreed to wear something special during R and R time. As a result, Twilight's gorgeous super-strong legs were in long fishnet garters, held up by a waistband, crotchless at Twilight's insistence. She had a simple black nightie on over her washboard stomach, only trailing into lace at the sides and at the cups coming up to her nipples.

With her friends' cutie marks woven into the borders, each covered by little lace "chains" locking them down, and a cut out of her own starburst, Twilight felt more than a little touched, she supposed. Rarity had told her that all five of the other Elements had given the seamstress one hair from their cutie marks to weave into the otherwise silksteel lingerie. Other fun-time clothing might be permitted to tear during the athletic "relaxation" of the Elemental Alicorns, but never, never this nightie.

Dashie was getting nervous under Twilight's stare. Should be more nervous, my pushy little bottom, thought Twilight, and as she leaned further over, licking her lips, she was quite satisfied to see Dashie tremble a bit in a swirl of lust and nervousness. "No," Twilight said eventually, and Dashie blinked, looking hurt.

"No? But, I've been working on my tongue work with Flutters…" Dashie said, "I-i-i mean... Gotcha leGrunter is ready for you!"

Twilight rolled her eyes and her grin broadened. "You can keep that as your forfeit," she said. "But I want more. Payment, if you will, for bugging me for this after your losing record. I know my wins, and you know yours," Twilight said sternly and was rewarded by Dashie sitting down across from her, crossing and uncrossing her drenched thighs under the table.

"M-more?" asked Dashie, panting a bit.

"More," Twilight said, and reached across to pet Dashie's cheek with just her fingernails, trailing them slowly over blushing blue hide. "Three matches, even if someone is at two of three to start. Each match you win, you get to pick a hole of mine for poor, neglected 'Gotcha'," she said, sticking out her tongue at Dashie for the name. Dashie laughed, her throat dry, and Twilight reached over beside her to start grabbing the three heftiest, longest, most detail-oriented books of which Dashie had interrupted Twilight's read-on.

"For every match I win-- so these three here," she said with a quirky smile, one side up higher than the other, "You are my personal throne for the whole freaking book. The only time you get to move from holding my tush up," and here Twilight slapped her own rump, twisting a bit and lifting off of her seat to show Dash the rippling effect across the perfect cheek and hip to the side, "Is when I determine that I want you to switch from majority action for my pussy, and majority action for my ass. You will do it slow," Dashie pouted, but Twilight re-emphasized, "You will do it slow, you will do it sensuous, and you will do it without talking so I can read in comfort."

Twilight washed Dashie swallow heavily, and wriggle around nervously in her seat. Twilight pulled her hand back across the table and leaned on it again, while her other hand reached down to her muff to stroke it slowly. She loved watching Dashie here. Both halves of her good friend wanted this, even though the terms were nowhere even. Her competitive side wanted to match against the only Element that Dashie hadn't gotten even one win on in arm wrestling; the side of her that was a needy little cunt badly wanted to be ravished. Dashie had a dominant side, too, but that was being drowned out at the moment.

"Fine!" huffed Dashie, and Twilight gave her a cute little smile and wrinkled her nose.

"Fine what, Dashie?" asked Twilight, as she pulled her hand from her snatch and slowly began to lick each finger.

"Fine for the terms. Each win I get, I sonic rainbow-own one of your holes, and I'm starting with that lazy plot of yours! Each win you get… and… uh…" Dashie uncrossed her potent legs and with a squish that wasn't usually present, the lean (in present company), taut-muscled lengths pressed together. "Each win you get, and I'm your throne a little longer. After I take my forfeits with Gotcha!":

Twilight laughed and tossed her mane. Casually styled, it bounced around horn and ears, and trailed off her neck. She shifted the sturdy seat, tucked her legs back for a good position, and slammed her elbow down just hard enough on the table to make it shake and bounce. She locked gazes with Dashie, and held up her hand at just the right angle.

Rainbow Dash looked over her opponent carefully, and stood. Placing the chair aside, the High General of the Aerial Forces of Equestria, subordinate (Hee! went a different part of Dashie's self-narration) only to Princess Luna in military matters, Rainbow considered her opponent's arm, and, frankly, almost insultingly casual stance. She looked down at the challenging limb, up at the somewhat impatient look on Twilight's face, steadied her elbow on the table, and clasped hands with Twilight. "Okay, onetwothreego!" Dash shouted, and flexed hard at what she just knew was the best angle for leverage!

Twilight's arm didn't budge. At all. It didn't bulge either. It just didn't move. Rainbow, frustrated, tamped back the power, hoping to hit Twilight on the crease of the Princess of Magic's own offensive… but Twilight's arm still didn't move! Rainbow poured on the same force that let her break the sound barrier, that let her shatter stone with her punches…

Twilight looked back up from "Assertive Discipline," which she was reading by carefully pressing the pages with the finger of one hand. This was the one for grades 6-12, and wasn't as long as the ones she'd chosen for Dashie's time as Twilight's Royal Seat. "Oh, did we start?" she asked, innocently.

"Uh… no. Why, um, why don't you count? I was just getting psyched up." Despite her words, Rainbow tried for a few more seconds to move Twilight's mighty limb, to no avail. She tried again when Twilight was distracted, her horn glowing as she put the bookmark away. No luck.

"Kay," Twilight said, licking her lips as she put the book away, and met Rainbow's eyes; Rainbow almost lost herself, for a moment, in those intense, purple eyes, but kept herself focused. "Ready?" asked Twilight.

Rainbow shook her head, but breathed, stopped shaking, and said, "Yeah!"

"One," counted Twilight. Rainbow focused on her. "Two," Twilight said, and Rainbow wriggled her tail and rump back and forth. She was so ready. Twilight finished, "Three, go!" and a huge slam hit the table again, causing the ironwood to creak ominously. Twilight had simply slammed Rainbow down in a smooth motion on the mark.

"I wasn't ready!" protested Rainbow, who pouted at Twilight.

"But you said…"

"I was psyching myself up!"

"It counts, Dashie."

"Fiiiine," sighed Rainbow, and tried to surreptitiously flick feeling back into her wrist under the table. Okay, Twilight had a win, but Rainbow Dash, Princess of Awesome, could come from behind. Best two out of three, of course, and now, she had Twilight's measure. "This time, I count," she told Twilight, and brushed back her mane with the fingers of her free hand before taking hold of the table again.

"This time, right."

"Right!"

"Which you're ready for."

"Totally! Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, Dashie, I'm ready. Count, will you?"

"Fine. One, two, three, go!" shouted Rainbow, and tried to haul her all the moment she hit the oh sound.

For this match, Twilight took her time, slowly bringing crushing force down onto Rainbow's arm. As the frantic blue alicorn tried to find the right way to grab some kind of momentum or traction, Twilight let out a soft, happy moan as she easily kept a smooth, fluid motion on pushing Rainbow's arm down, a treacle domination, seemingly gravitic inevitability.

With Rainbow still struggling, Twilight kept up the force. As Rainbow sweated, her bangs soaking from the effort, Twilight let out little, happy pants, feeling her opponent's desperate, wriggling struggles, and still, Twilight simply would not let up, would not stop, would not even bother to go faster. She just… kept, pushing.

As the back of her hand was mere shivers away from the table, Rainbow looked over at Twilight. Saw the lust in her eyes. Saw love there, too, always love and friendship, but not the love of a slightly-more-equal partner for an old, goofy friend. The lust of a dominant for her submissive, of a boss mare for her assistant with such a cute little toned butt. Rainbow let out a soft moan, and stopped fighting.

"Aww," said Twilight, panting. "Not enough! Not nearly enough!" She growled a bit, and was pleased when Dashie instinctively gave way to Twilight's spatial presence, ducking her body and side away, and just for a moment ducking down to follow her defeated arm. Twilight held her there, even as Dashie arrested her motion and met Twilight's gaze again, until Dashie bowed her head.

Dashie admitted, "I lost," with a sigh.

Twilight decided to tease her beloved friend and fuck buddy. "Giving up, Dashie? I mean, I know it's two out of three, but if you really don't want even the chance to stop your pretty little Gotcha from gathering dust…" Dust in ass not sexy, the clinical part of Twilight's mind noted. Find different metaphor.

Thankfully, like little did in actual flight but occasionally still happened when they spoke, the extension of the metaphor flew over Dashie's head. She tried to get her hand out of Twilight's, struggling and glaring so deliciously that Twilight squeezed Dashie's hand a little tighter, briefly, before letting her go. Dashie snorted, her wings stiffening all the way out, and she straightened her posture, horn forward, frontal bang in place, ready to fight! "No way! I've got another shot, and I'm going to finally break… your… record!"

Twilight gave a small mental calculation in scientific notation, and decided not to tell Dashie that her record would still round for practical purposes to one hundred percent; Dashie wasn't going anywhere with the record other than getting another revolution as Twilight's throne and fuck toy. "My turn to count, right?" was all Twilight said, setting up her arm again.

Rainbow Dash was ready. Her opponent had the field advantage, but apparently didn't realize that the only important win was the final one. Narrowing her eyes, the legendary champion of the skies stared directly into those of her far-too-casual lavender alicorn opponent. Rainbow Dash had the data. She had the drive. She was going to get. That. Plot.

"Rainbow, I count, right?" Twilight said, looking at Dashie and wondering if maybe she'd lapsed a bit under already. "Also, I need your hand. You know. For the arm-wrestling."

"Huh whu LEVERAGE THAT MOMEN...tum." Rainbow Dash decided to throw in a bit of the crazy, to leave her opponent off balance, and then took the oversized and overconfident heifer's hand. "Yeah. You can start… when you're ready to lose!"

Dashie's capability to be two almost diametrically opposed mares sometimes boggled Twilight. There was the hot little goofball in front of her now, and there was the hot-blooded aerial warrior and scout that Twilight knew would never let her or Equestria down. Must be nice to really get to relax more than once every few months and let someone else do the work. Of course, Twilight planned on relaxing on Dashie's face for a while, but she'd make it up to her tonight. Her Orgasm Proportionality formula hadn't failed her yet!

Unlike Dashie's distraction, Twilight registered through her speculation and held her focus, settling in for the final match. "To be clear, you ready?" she asked.

"I'm good! I'm ready! You chicken?"

"No, me pony," Twilight said with a sigh. "One."

"Ha ha."

"Two."

"You're going down!"

"Three!"

Rainbow let the distraction melt away. Let her horniness melt away, letting her embarrassment about using a bookworm technique go to wherever it went after Luna literally spanked her with a copy of Sun Zoo's treatise (signed). Her wings took position, ready to catch the wind for a swoop that wasn't coming, but felt like it.

To the astonishment of both, Dashie actually moved Twilight's hand towards her side. Just briefly, just a fraction, but it was noticeable.

Unfortunately, Twilight read books too. And if she might never really get the same warrior's joy that Dashie and Luna, and sometimes even Rarity and Applejack might share, her ascension to alicorn had definitely left her with competitive drive and hunger. Twilight already knew the proper counter, and she had more than enough edges for the contest besides.

"Aw, man," Dashie said, though not entirely with regret. Cooped up for like two or three WHOLE HOURS, part of her said, in counterpoint to a chorus of LOST AGAIN? She did give Twilight a goofy grin as the back of her hand slammed down onto the table. Oh well. Time for me to show my amazing oral skills once again, she thought smugly, and tried to move her arm. Nope; it was going nowhere. "Uh, Twilight?"

Silence. Twilight was just looking at Dashie. Not glaring, not lecturing, just looking. "Heh, Twi, you did win this round, but I really can't show you my awesome orality from here."

"What did you call me?"

"Er, your name?"

"What is my name, Dashie?"

Oh shit, I know what name you want to be called, but my name is mud, Dashie thought. In a good way at least. She swallowed, red bang bobbing in front of the yellow. "Uh." Oh my, there goes the great southern cloudburst again, was all she could manage verbally and mentally.

"My name, Dashie," growled the massive Twilight. Her horn glowed softly, and a phantom suppressor ring locked around Dashie's horn. "Say my name, cunt," was Twilight's demand.

Dashie didn't think that going with "Sure, my name is cunt, whatever you say, boss," or "Your name is cunt!" would win her happy fun times. Punishment books might be added. Twilight might decide to lecture her throne. She could be assigned homework! Swallowing, Dashie ducked her head down, shivering with lust more than fear. "Your name is Mistress Twilight," she said softly. "Sorry, boss."

Twilight knew that from Dashie, "boss" was as good as a "mistress," and she took it. More literally, she took Dashie, her magenta telekinetic aura grabbing and fondling Dashie's ass even as it shoved up and Twilight yanked on Dashie's arm.

"Whoa, hey, easy!" Dashie tried, but Twilight flipped her around and held her up over the table before planting her on it with deceptive gentleness. The magenta aura held Dashie as Twilight methodically hand stripped her. Twilight pulled Dashie's wriggling limbs, protesting if at least from instinct.

"Thrones don't wear clothes. And they don't say whoa." Twilight flattened Dashie against the table, and stroked her clit lightly. "And you are?" she asked.

Dashie didn't have the will or the desire for even the obvious quip. She just moaned, her quim drooling onto the table. "Your throne, mistress."

"Good," Twilight said, and tilted Dashie's head up, forcing a hungry kiss onto her while she continued to frig the pert little clit. "Making a mess on my table, throne. But don't worry. I won't hold it against you. Does my throne remember what her tongue is for when I'm not kissing it?"

"Mistress' pussy. Mistress' asshole," Dashie groaned. "Mistress, my pussy isn't very obedient…" she whimpered. It was a constant embarrassment. She was, of course, awesome in every way as a submissive. But her pussy was just too awesome (not that she was going to phrase it that way, of course), and just loved her mistresses too much.

Twilight chuckled. "I know, honey," she said gently, and kissed Dashie on the lips, just lightly. "It's okay. I want it out of your muff before I put you under mine, understand? We'll call that your weight training for today, but for now… Daring Done is trapped once more on the Table of Textual Terror!" she whispered, a glimmer of joy in her eyes even if her mouth pulled slightly, not smiling, but pleased by the "meal" below.

"Oh y- I mean no. Oh totally no! I'm Done!"

"No need for introductions, Ms. Done. Your cunt seems to remember my fist very well indeed," growled Twilight. "I, the Ragna Rocker have obtained the Dildo of Destiny, and I will not be fucking you with it!"

Dashie whimpered at Twilight, but with about twenty percent less lust. Twilight smirked. "No, Definitely Done," she said. "When my Fist of Rocking finishes dealing with your captive cunt, you will begin to turn to Stone! Except for the parts of you I conveniently need to get off!"

Twilight slipped three fingers into "Done" all at once, invading her while the telekinesis pinned Dashie's wings carefully out flat beneath her, and braced her wrists, ankles, and neck to the table. Watching Dashie squeal and squirm, she teased her lightly, the fingers reaching deep into her pretty pet. As Twilight's thumb rubbed over Dashie's clit, she licked her lips. "Soon, Daring Done, my Fist of Rocking will do you! You will serve out eternity, as my throne!"

"No! No! Please… no… I don't.. want to… stop! Stop teasing … just do what you came for!" shuddered Dashie, thrashing about on the table as best she could. Twilight had only left enough for Dashie's athletic body to get mere inches of give and play as she writhed against the teasing. Panting, gasping, even drooling a little, Dashie's eyes went slightly flat just as Twilight carefully curled her huge hand into a full on fist, and began to lovingly pump beneath a rainbow-colored snatch.

"You can't stop me, Done," Twilight said in a light, possessive growl. "Dare you even try?"

"Mistress…" shuddered Dashie, her ability to resist, even in play, diminishing as her cunt clenched around Twilight's forearm, trying to wink it.

"I thought not, Daring Definitely Done," Twilight said, and filled her squirmy subbie, letting Dashie feel her fist penetrate deep. As Twilight herself had been taught (and done), she made sure to curl and twist her fist, pleasuring the trapped Dashie. "As you cum, you will be as a slowly setting pleasure throne," she intoned, leaning across Dashie's body to whisper in her ear, still filling Dashie's womb with her dominant hand. "When you cum, you will be ready. Be mine!" snarled Twilight.

Dashie could hold out no longer. Her horn flickered and sparked against the control of Twilight's magic, to no avail, but while no escape was possible by her magic or her strength, the sturdy seven foot flier felt release as a massive, shuddering orgasm took her under Twilight's spell. "YOURS!" wailed Dashie; but of course, it was already true.

Twilight slowed her pistoning arm, standing part of the way back up to watch Dashie cream over her hand. Eventually she pulled her hand out gently, and licked it. "Tasty," she noted, "But we need to get you in place, don't we?" she asked, and let her magenta aura clean her hand. She didn't bother with cleaning Dashie's sex. The magic disappeared from around Dashie, releasing wings and horn and limbs all at once.

Dashie lay still, panting and moaning in the afterglow. Twilight didn't let her rest long; she ordered, "Off my reading table, throne." Twilight moved her existing chair aside and tried not to grumble too much about pushy little alicorns making more work for her. She nodded. "I believe you've been throned before, Done," she sneered. "On your butt, belly up like a good bitch, wings kept neat, legs up and knees bent to support my royal ass, arms bent so that my thighs may test your forearms' strength."

It wasn't much of a test. Any of the Elements could easily lift and carry a nine foot hyper pony with little trouble-- single handed. With a literally divine body, Dashie was in no danger of cramping or fatigue. The entire posture looked ridiculous, Twilight admitted, but at this point, she just wanted Dashie's mouth occupied while she read. Getting a nice, slow ponyfaced pussy ride to keep the edge off was a perfectly fitting reward for her tolerance of Dashie's persistence.

Dashie snapped into position, her exaggerated gymnast-warrior's body putting on a lovely display of toned strength that Twilight enjoyed. Once Dashie was shaped to be Twilight's throne, Twilight made a show of sauntering over to Dashie, ignoring her horn as she stood behind Dashie's head and lifted herself back, sitting her plush rump firmly on Dashie's upraised shins and letting her thighs squish over Dashie's forearms.

Her pussy, as it always did, easily cleared her throne's horn, and Twilight grabbed said horn by the base as she took her backless seat, leaning back a bit. "Are you thirsty, my throne?" she purred. Dashie didn't move at all under mistress' weight. Twilight sighed happily as she found a comfortable rest. There. Couldn't do that to an ordinary pony, even one of the hypers. Might hurt the poor, weak thing.

Dashie let out a gasping moan. "Your slut is very, very thirsty," she said in hoarse pants. "Your slut NEEDS mistress' pussy, please!"

Twilight made a show of considering it, tilting Dashie's head around by the horn, squeezing and pumping the length but slowing if she saw too many sparks. "You know the rules, throne. You keep still. If you have enough muscle control, you may climax, but disturb me, and I'll send you over to Rarity for dress-up. I haven't had a good show in a while." Twilight disturbed herself, to an extent; it sometimes bothered her how much her sex slickened when she heard Dashie's whining response.

"Do you think I know mercy, slave?" asked Twilight.

"That mistress owns my face is mercy enough," said Dashie, tongue straining to reach Twilight's cunt.

"Good throne," Twilight said. "Now. Slow tongue, massaging lips. I want _one_ orgasm every five chapters, no more, no less." She smiled devilishly. "I'll give you a little squeeze in my thighs. Thrones like that, don't they?" Twilight whickered, pulling her first book over."

Dashie just let out a long series of shuddering pants, then moaned a yes. Twilight quite appreciated Dashie's improved control; she didn't feel the climax hit her poor submissive hardly at all. "Oh, good," said Twilight. "Get to work, bitch. Better job you do, the less time you spend worshipping your mistress' ass." She licked her lips and rubbed her plush cheeks over Dashie's shins. "Or am I choosing the opposite incentive?

Twilight was quite certain that riding her fellow Elements' faces helped her study. She refused to do so outside of predetermined scenes, as forfeits, or when speed and precision were needed, but it was very nice, indeed. She'd quite trained all of them, Dashie not least, to know how to extend her pleasure without frustrating her. Twilight had also tracked and graphed the best way to force them to respond without having to make verbal commands every n chapters, and she had determined that when n was greater than 2, her bitchy mares did so love having their boss mare's thighs wrapped around their head in a tight squeeze.

Dashie had responded quite well to the training. Like many pegasi, neither Dashie nor Fluttershy had ever been comfortable with with enclosed spaces. Twilight was so proud of them; each, for her own reasons, had begged and wriggled for training in confinement, sense play, and especially being trapped by the other, larger Elements, until they associated the scent of Elemental Alicorn Snatch and the steady pressure of huge thighs with utter safety.

None of them would ever harm another; the bounds of play were quite well set. Twilight could feel satisfied that her Dashie got off on the slight panic, eagerly pleasing her mistress' pussy as she was briefly locked down by Twilight's power. When Twilight finished each of her first two book, she gave Dashie a little extra squeeze, after which cooed, "I want to remember this good. Step it up, slave."

Her brave little throne reacted as Twilight demanded. By this point in their relationship, it would be fair to say that Dashie knew the ins and eating outs of the other Elements' cunts quite well; while the others did love to bring their cute, captive Dashie off as they topped her, Dashie took lustful pride in being the mouthiest bitch in the not-quite-a-herd.

It wasn't that the orgasms she'd worshipped out of Twilight's twat every five chapters weren't good. Dashie never gave anything less than excellent head. But like any racer, she knew she had to pace herself to satisfy her sister Elements-- and Twilight was the most insatiable of the lot. When she felt the ringing in her ears and her vision was briefly overwhelmed by plush, lavender excess, Dashie waited for the command, and then moved into her most skillful snatch-licking sprint.

Over her long races to adore her mistress' sex, Dashie carefully and lovingly attended to the whole muff, her tongue wasting not a drop. Her care was most kept to making sure that Twilight stayed in the sweet spot between frustrated and overstimulated. An aroused Twilight was a happy Twilight; one who had to take a break to teach a naughty subbie how to get her off was not. Dashie didn't think the climaxes her pussy would be sent into were worth disappointing her mistress so.

But at that moment where the command was given, Dashie gave all the focus and awareness she took in her flying to taking her mistress over the top. Clit adored and g-spot worshipped, prehi… dext… finger-like upper lip wriggling around to make sure that all of mistress' pussy was pleased, that's the way the Dashie did it, and did things well.

Twilight let Dashie know how good of a slut she was being, of course! Riding her pussy hard over Dashie's face, Twilight came in long, quaking moans, and couldn't quite hold her own mouth back. "Fucking throne! Fucking cunny-nursing slave bitch! Thrones worship their mistresses, yeah, just like that, my pretty little slut of a seat!" Twilight got… vulgar, in the moment. Vulgar and wordy, and she enjoyed it, even when she was corrected by her doms in turn. When out of subspace herself, though, Twilight couldn't really help it, and rarely bothered to try these days.

As Dashie made it about what she hoped was halfway through mistress' last book, a mix of both dread and an even more overwhelming lust began to make it all the harder to neither quiver and disturb her mistress' seat, nor to keep things in the precise middle of the sweet spot. Not that "Rainbow Danger-Responsibility-Cunt Eating-McBitchPoo Dash" (Pinkie had named her that one day, and it had stuck) let her mistress down, no, just not as even of a ride. She knew what was coming.

Twilight was the horniest of the Elements. Dashie wondered if it was because of how much she'd used her horn before getting her wings, or something, but she wasn't sure. What she did know is that early on in the relationship, Twilight had had some pretty severe anxiety, not about performing well, but about dragging others into her wake.

With normal ponies and hyper ponies? Pssh. Twilight lead them around by the clits or balls as she wanted 'em. With Dashie and the other Elements, when Twilight was feeling dominant… or hadn't gotten a good fucking… or one that had fit her checklist for that moment, or really, if the mood just struck, she got really, really aggressive.

Some time with Celestia and Luna, here and there-- and didn't that get Dashie's clit ready, gosh yes-- had helped Twilight. Year by year Dashie was more in awe of mistress' growing self control. It had helped, sort of, that the five of the rest of them had surrounded Twilight and cuddled her until she'd accepted their broad-based consent to be raped and ravished like the cunts they were.

Which is what, of course, Twilight wanted to do to them. Badly. And she had a number of special kinks, among which one of the biggest was her plot, in two literal senses. Dashie knew better than to laugh, even as nervous as she was, because she knew she was about to give mistress some anal play.

Twilight's lush tush was absolutely gorgeous. Mouth watering was a good word-- huge curves that jiggled constantly, somehow not getting her off balance even in combat. Beneath those curves were extraordinary, powerful muscles that Dashie creamed over. Again, often literally. And Twilight wanted attention paid.

Dashie loved rubbing mistress' rump. Caressing it. Kissing it. Massaging it. But she always was careful not to give mistress too much voluntarily there, because when Twilight decided it was time for Dashie to face her plot, Dashie went under. Fuck, Rarity went under. No one stopped Twilight on a butt rampage except for Twilight, and, presumably, the Astrals.

Despite herself, Dashie giggled. Astrals.

Looking down at Dashie, Twilight put her book down. "I didn't think thrones had senses of humor," she growled.

Oh, man. Not again.

"Just us cunt-hungry thrones here, mistress. No humors," Dashie ventured, and felt a new eagerness in her mistress' glutes as they flexed plush over Dashie's shins. Aw, fuck.

"Impertinent, too?" asked Twilight as she raised one knee high over Dashie's horn, her fishnet clad legs shifting to let her slide over to the left of her throne. Involuntarily, Dashie's eyes followed and… yep. Twilight smacked her own ass, right over the cutie mark, letting the purple expanse jiggle in silence.

Dashie swallowed, and let out a short, shuddering whine. Twi's ass was as close to perfect as Dashie thought was fair to have shoved in her face. Luna had done so once since Dashie'd ap… asc… got a horn, and she still had problems looking at a full moon without drooling. Dashie watched the bounce, bounce, bounce of fat snap up and down and back into place. Watched the ripple go from broad hip (handholds, yay!) to broad hip, and travel back, eventually ceasing and returning Twilight’s rump to the squishy shape that Dashie adored so. And was about to be spending a rather amount of time being permitted to pay attention to little else.

"Mistress Twilight…" Dashie whined. She shuddered in her throne position, not from the stress of holding the pose, but from a small climax that she just couldn't stop.

"You've got such a wicked pussy, Dashie. It betrays you to me," Twilight said with a lusty rumble. When Dashie called her by her name, Twilight lightened the scene a bit; she listened to her friends. Always. Even if they were also being her personal masturbatory devices and furniture at the same time. Twilight licked her lips, flared her wings up to give herself room, and moved her musclepacked right arm behind her body. "Say it," she demanded as she started to run a finger up and down along the lush flank, playing with her own muscle beneath the padding.

"Mistress, my pussy would betray me to you any time, and I would do the same if given half the chance, mistress boss ma'am!" panted Dashie, and then, knowing that wasn't what had been really wanted, swallowed heavily and said, "Mistress, your ass is so awesome. I'd be at Rainboom Factor Four if I could just get an ass twenty percent as awesome as that."

Twilight shimmied, forcing more little gasps and pants of pleasure out of Dashie without having to touch her. Only Luna had ever done that as well; even Rarity had to apply kinky directly to the Dashie! "Daaaashie," said Twilight, half-growling, half-singsong. "Say it."

Dashie shuddered, her mouth going wide and her eyes wide. "Dashie… needs… mistress' ass! Needs to be its throne!"

Twilight circled around, her fishnet stockings shifting over her powerful thighs. "That's a good little throne. A little more discipline, and you could make cunt!" She put her hands on her hips and turned her elbows and wrists, just slightly, making her arms bulge dangerously out at Dashie, who just mewled.

Twilight reached down, her barely contained breasts shaking her bra about. She casually grabbed Dashie's shoulder and hauled her about. "You've been keeping track of how much pressure your neck can take, Rainbow?"

Rainbow Dash, long-suffering fuck-buddy and Best. Submissive. Ever let out a sigh. "Yes, Twilight, I keep track." Twilight was… odd, about some things. Rainbow supposed it would have been odd if she hadn't been, but. She made all the other Elements do-- not stress tests, but constant tests to see how much strain parts of their body, like, say, their necks, could take without feeling stress. Because she liked to sit her ass down on top of their muzzles.

Twilight was a fanatic about cleanliness. Not just frequently suborning her friends to lick her rear out; as far as Rainbow knew, all she or any of the others did was relax their burliest friend's anus and stimulate the muscle. Twilight insisted on learning spells to clean inside and out wherever sex play might happen and everyone else learned them too. Not that Rainbow minded being clean, or having clean partners, of course! But some aspects of Twilight’s regime didn’t so much border on obsessive as invade and set up a puppet government.

Twilight frowned down at Rainbow. "Okay, let's see you oxygenate; diaphragm up."

Rainbow groaned. "Every time, Twi, I can--" She grunted as Twilight stomped a foot. "Mistress Twilight!" she gulped, and gave Twilight her best filly beg face, "I can hold my breath for weeks!"

"With your magic. Which can be taken from you. There could be an emergency when you're giving my poor ass what it deserves! And you'll be grunting and… mmf.. and squirming like the slutty little bitch you are and MY ASS NEEDS YOUR TONGUE SO OXYGENATE" Twilight roared, making Dashie rock back and forth in confused pleasure, trying to both slip into sub headspace and to please her mistress by not. It was a pickle.

Rainbow decided that saying, "So that wasn't Rarity whom you were re-introducing to Twilight 2: The Flankening earlier?" would not get her climaxing under Twilight's butt any faster. And might get her locked in a chastity belt with a randomized vibrator spell attached. Again.

"Yes, Mistress Twilight," was Rainbow's choice of words instead. When Twilight wanted ten-Dashie loving care on her butt, it was really the safest choice. So she started to hyperventilate, which of course, since the Dash's Ds were awesomely perky, definitely made Twilight pleased with her. That and the obedience thing, of course.

"Mmm," Twilight said, and chewed on one of her fingers. "Yep. It's time to say goodbye to the world for a bit, Dashie. Do you really need anything but my plot?"

Dashie nickered and moaned her best "No, mistress no mistress no," and tried to explain that, indeed, purple alicorn ass was the best ass, but she didn't really have the time in between the jiggling oxygenation.

Twilight sashayed in earnest now, muscular legs swinging this way and that. Dashie craned her head around, setting her neck carefully; her mistress loved her and wanted her safe. Her mistress' ass was there, filling Dashie's view and more than half hypnotizing her as Twilight shook and jerked her rear about, laying her hands on her meaty thighs as she sunk closer and closer. Dashie finished oxygenating and tilted her head to not blow out up her mistress' rump, and then open wide, tongue wriggling.

Twilight sighed as she sat back against Dashie, letting her ass sink carefully over her face. "Sooooo good," she moaned, licking her fingertips. She moved her thighs around to sit more completely on her worshipful throne, and started to finish reading. She'd remember these passages, alright. Of course, what she never mentioned to Dashie, especially when her dear friend was being a pushy little bottom, was that the better the pleasure was, the more she associated it with re-reading.

And the more she'd demand Dashie did her duty for Twilight Booty, forfeit or no forfeit.

Chapter 2 - Stare Into the Thighs of Twi! (Fluttershy)

Twilight shut the fifth Cube Librarium, and sighed happily. Spatial magic was so fun and sexy. All … mathy. With some hot under-the-covers cosmology and the folding and …Yeah. Okay, too many distractions. "Okay, Barb, I think we can check that off... Oops," Twilight said with a laugh.

Barb, of course, was doing her own packing. Twilight made a little sniffle, and her wings fluttered; she felt a strange tenseness in her left leg. "My little dragon, all grown up and writing her own checklists," she said, and turned to cross off the various books on the list she'd packed for the two year journey.

After a few moments, Twi felt a vague, itching sense in her left thigh, the powerful muscles squeezing and rubbing against… something? With a bit of irritation, the amazonian alicorn steadied her checklist with her inkwell, and reached down with her left hand to scratch the itch while getting back to checking things off the list.

It took Twilight finishing checking off the items, and a soft "gnar gnar gnar" sound coming from her left side for her to realize that she wasn't scratching an itch so much as batting the mane of…

"Shy?" Twilight asked, a bit shocked both at the fact that the hugely curvy seven-foot tall Fluttershy had wrapped herself around Twilight's left leg at all, and the fact that she hadn't noticed for some time. "Shy, why are you … uh… gnarring, on my leg?" she asked, confused.

Fluttershy glared up at Twilight and stopped gnawing against the lavender skin for a moment. "I challenge you for dominance!" she said in her fiercest tone, like a feather being shaken angrily into the wind. She then redoubled clutching at Twilight's thigh, apparently trying to put the huge quadriceps into some form of lock or hold; she was being somewhat hampered by the fact that her breasts, easily comparable to Twilight's own gorgeous and gargantuan rack, kept shoving into her face or squishing around Twilight's thigh in a way that made it impossible for Fluttershy to really get a good hold along the side of said thigh, let alone wrap around it.

"Uh…" Twilight said, a little stunned, actually, and she sniffed the air. No, she's not in heat, Twilight thought; that was usually the only time Fluttershy got aggressive enough about sex to even consider a challenge. "You what now?" she asked, taking refuge in independent verification of what her memory was telling her.

Fluttershy let out a blood-curdling… um… well, more like blood-slightly-disturbing "battle cry." To whit, she said in a voice just above conversational tones, "Argh! Battle cry! I said I challenge you for DOMINANCE, you big selfish meanie!" Despite the attempt at fierceness and the at least mostly credible attempt to grapple Twilight's impossibly ripped leg, Twilight could see little tears in Flutters' eyes.

This promptly concerned Twilight much more, and, ignoring Fluttershy's protests and demands that Twilight "meet the challenge, you, uh, coward, sorry, but… meanie! Sorry," Twilight gently pulled Fluttershy up off her leg and up into her arms, resting her against her breasts as she looked over Fluttershy with a brief horn glare to make sure Flutters hadn't gotten into the dark magic or something.

This proved to be something of a mistake, as Fluttershy began flailing and whacking her arms, legs, and breasts into Twilight's sensitive mammaries, setting off shockwaves of pleasure and light pain in Twilight, who grunted. "Fluttershy, what is wrong with you?" she asked, blinking.

Just as suddenly as the panicked flails had begun, they stopped, and Twilight almost dropped her beloved friend and fuckbuddy then and there. Fluttershy's left eye went wide open, the hypnotic blue filled with… not quite rage, but something like it. Her right eye narrowed to an almost predatory point, and Twilight was hit with the all the considerable psychic force that Fluttershy could muster, the Alicorn Stare.

"Don't you think that just because you're big, and buff, and hot, you can just ignore ponies and give all the goodies to other mares without consequences! Just because you're super sexy doesn't mean it's right for you to get away with it, and I want you to get down on your knees and eat me out right now!" Fluttershy commanded, her voice suddenly much less laughably soft.

Under ordinary circumstances, Fluttershy's Stare was a thing to be feared. Even the intensely stubborn minds of Twilight's right and left-hand mares, Rarity and Applejack buckled under the Stare when a frustrated or heat-driven Fluttershy turned it on them. Rarity could fight off the effects and just let them wash over her; Applejack wasn't usually so lucky unless she had a way of catching the former pegasus Fluttershy and forcing her to look in another direction, fast.

But Twilight's mind was a strange and powerful thing. Forged in the fires of friendship and honed by both the keen intellect and perfectionistic lusts of Princess Celestia, the Stare was a challenge, make no mistake… but not sufficient to budge her in the direction of those commands. It may, however, have been sufficient to budge Twilight in the direction that Fluttershy wanted, however.

Twilight's nostrils flared and her arm-muscles bulged. Still holding Fluttershy up against her chest, still locking gazes with the growling former pegasus, Twilight gripped her hands onto the elbows of her opposite arms, locking a wall of muscle around most of Flutters, with Flutters' lush breasts pushed up and over her own face and slightly to the side of her head, forced out of the way by Twilight's abruptly stiffening rack.

Without a further word, Twilight began to flex. And flex. And flex. Her forearms bulged, massive bulges larger around than Fluttershy's legs trapping her, but they were nothing compared to the swelling peaks of Twilight's indomitable biceps, pushing Fluttershy in from the sides, captive and utterly at Twilight's mercy. And Twilight was indeed the chief muscle bitch of the Elements of Harmony, the most changed by her transformation into an Alicorn. The most powerful, most horny, most overwhelmingly dominant cunt of the lot…

Which basically, of course, meant that Twilight was squeezing Fluttershy with loving care for her tender "wimpy" gymnast-amazon of a lover, keeping her trapped in a heavenly prison of squish and strong, both mares' breasts rubbing together and bouncing over the smaller Fluttershy in wild abandon. Twilight didn't know it, but in that moment, the lustful look in her eyes, the slight bite she dug into her lower lip and the extension of her neck to look down at her sweet, trapped subbie were quite a bit like some of Celestia's less subtle moments as Mistress Sun dominating Twilight in turn.

Fluttershy's attempted grrs and grars at Twilight, muffled by her own soft melons being forcibly rubbed over her muzzle, slowly turned into pants and whimpers of pleasure. Twilight felt Fluttershy's body twist and squirm in her arms, and let out a long, shuddering sigh herself before looking down as disapprovingly as she could. "I'm sorry, Fluttershy. What was that you said before?"

"I submit!" Flutters said happily, shifting her breasts around to rub and stroke the soft, incredibly responsive flesh of her unending mass of mammaries back against Twilight's taut teats, scraping her short, broad nips lovingly against the perfect hide. Flutters' toned, tough limbs clung, almost like a helpless foal, to Twilight's arms, nuzzling into the comforting strength. Twilight, in turn, relaxed some (but nowhere near all) of the force constraining Fluttershy in her arms, and carried the curvaceous mare over with her to a nearby chair.

Twilight sat, and deposited Fluttershy on her lap, cuddling the curvy alicorn close to Twilight's mammoth boobs. "Now, can I please get words and an explanation about what that was all about? Maybe with logic and coherent sentences, sweetie?" Twilight asked, and squeezed her friend just lightly again, resting Fluttershy's pink mane across Twilight's lace-clad cleavage. As she waited for the response, she teleported a hairbrush over to begin stroking and caressing the soft strands of hair gently. Time enough to introduce the hairbrush to Fluttershy's ass if she was just being a brat.

Fluttershy sniffled a bit and wrapped her arms around one of Twilight's huge knockers, pressing her cheek against it, sighing softly. Twilight reflected that Shy had come a long way, and at least no longer was paralyzed by fear on a regular basis. But one of the beautiful things about my bitches, Twilight thought, is that while we're heroines and leaders in the outside world, in here, a seven foot tall alicorn mare with the ability to control dragons with her mind, breasts literally larger than the rest of her torso, and equal power over animals and the gates of life and death can just be a sniffly, shy little subbie that the rest of us get to spoil and spank at alternate turns.

That appeared to be the problem, in fact, as Fluttershy stopped sniffling, and kissed Twilight's sensitive titflesh. "I'm… I'm really s-sorry. I…" Fluttershy inhaled, and clung all the closer. Twilight was so proud of how far Fluttershy had come. Instead of suppressing her own worries and needs, Fluttershy calmed herself, and smiled sadly up at Twilight. She explained, "Rainbow Dash was bragging about how she'd been an awesome throne for you for hours, and…" Fluttershy sniffled a bit. "And how she'd held herself perfectly still, and you took care of her, and made sure she got enough breathing-- well, she was complaining about that, but…"

Ah. Things went click in Twilight's head. Part of the "deal" with helping Fluttershy out of her shell in public was feeding her adoration of being utterly and completely taken care of in private. Which meant… "Oh, honey," Twilight cooed, noticing that Fluttershy was completely naked. Excellent; more efficient! Twilight gathered her smaller friend all the closer, shifting Fluttershy so their nipples touched across the lace of Twilight's demi bra.

Fluttershy whimpered, but with rather a happier tone this time. Twilight continued to press Fluttershy closer, their breasts pillowing out together. When she was close enough, Twilight leaned forward to seize a gentle, but firm kiss, claiming Fluttershy's mouth with her tongue. Twilight took her time, exploring the sweetness of her subbie's lips, wrestling Fluttershy's tongue into proper obedience.

Eventually, Twilight broke the kiss and smiled tenderly at Fluttershy. Twilight began to rock Flutters up and down in front of her, scraping their nipples back and forth together over the fabric. Just for fun, just for both of them, she started a light suction on both their nips with a soft magenta glow, tugging and pumping as the paired nubs rubbed against one another. She inhaled; yes, the sweet spice of Flutters' sexy little pussy lubricating for her. Twilight's own clit was beginning to pulse, She was fairly certain what they both wanted, but Flutters had challenged her. Which meant that Twilight got to enjoy … dragging things out.

Still teasing both of their nipples, Twilight moved Fluttershy around to rest her weight on Twilight's forearm, keeping up the slow rhythm. She kissed Fluttershy gently once again and smiled. "No climaxing, honey. You lost your challenge, remember," she reminded Fluttershy, and Twilight's nips and nubs got all the stiffer as her slutty Fluttershy squealed softly and nodded.

Twilight went back to brushing Fluttershy's hair, and said, "You felt jealous, didn't you, sweetie. And you were going to miss me, even though I left strict orders for Rarity and Applejack to take the best care of you."

Fluttershy groaned, bunching her long, deft fingers into comparatively little fists and wrapping them under her breasts, holding against her toned tummy. "Yes… yes… ooh, mistress, I'm sorry," she panted. Fluttershy stretched her thighs out, her legs resting on Twilight's hips. The scent from Fluttershy's bared pink and the lovely stroke of her flagging tail made Twilight moan, but she otherwise just waited for Fluttershy to continue her confession.

"I'm so s-s-sorry, mistress!" Fluttershy cried and leaned her head under Twilight's neck, nestling in. "And I know you fucked me good last night… but…" she let out a gasp, her beautiful voice shuddering and and quivering for Twilight, the little jerks made by her well-built torso pulling delightfully on the spell-born suction between them. "But they're not you, mistress," she said softly, and kissed her way along Twilight's neck. "They're not you. I was so jealous. I am so jealous," she admitted, each sentence a short, sharp squeak. For all her assumption of the submissive role, Fluttershy had quite the iron core, and she obeyed, concentrating on riding the edge of pleasure and not surrendering into the climax-- not yet, anyway.

Twilight smiled down at Fluttershy. "I don't think I need to full-on paddle your cute little bum," she said, with a gentle laugh as Fluttershy pouted. "But you do owe me a forfeit, honey, don't you?" Twilight said with a low, lusty whinny. She knew she was just encouraging Fluttershy, which was fine; Twilight's clit ached, and her checklist was checked; why fight it when Fluttershy giftwrapped herself for Twilight's dominating pussy?

Fluttershy smiled, her breathing still ragged, but some of the desperation gone. "Unnn… yes, mistress. I challenged you, such a naughty pet," she whispered. "And I've gone ahead and soaked your lap, so naughty," she continued, looking up through her mane at Twilight. Twilight felt like she could almost cream from that adorable, cute face… but she wanted cream on said adorable, cute face.

Twilight smiled. "I'm not too displeased with you, pet," she told Fluttershy, her hand at Fluttershy's waist drifting down to rub the beautiful, juicy expanse of Fluttershy's rump, rolling the squishy curves back and forth between her fingers. The very, very sensitive squishy curves. The extraordinarily responsive plot of Twilight's pretty little pet, whom Twilight had trained to lose herself in such rubbing.

Twilight cooed at Fluttershy again, wordlessly this time, as she watched Fluttershy begin to helplessly respond to the rubs. Often, Twilight's soft and sensuous little butterfly-babe would go completely and luxuriatingly limp when one of her tops was massaging her ass. But not this time. Twilight wanted Fluttershy squirming. Wanted her squealing with need. And Twilight got what she wanted.

Twilight didn't need to rock Fluttershy any more; the horny mare had started to bounce rapidly in Twilight's lap, hooking her ankles tighter around Twilight's waist, and using her subtle, hidden strength to just keep pumping and making cute little grunts as her nipples danced with Twilight's. Twilight let the suction spell fade; their breasts, especially from the areolae in, were sensitive enough in the first place, and Twilight wanted the high of forcing Flutters to work for her pleasure.

Twilight continued to stroke Fluttershy's tush, nickering lustfully at at her. As Fluttershy pleasured Twilight's breasts, Twilight moved her free hand around in front, her fingers curled. She gently kneaded Fluttershy's pussy mound, the light blossom of pink amidst the buttery yellow smoothed and ruffled with each motion. As Twilight's circling hand moved closer and closer to Fluttershy's needy clit, Fluttershy began to grunt and nicker more, her shyness losing itself in the lewd loving.

"M-mistress," Fluttershy groaned, unable to keep herself from rocking her body back and forth as well as up and down, her stiff nipples jittering everywhere, almost randomly moving across Twilight's responsive areolae. Fluttershy knew, just knew, from her wings to her horn to her pussy to her tushy that she had to keep moving. "Mistress Twilight, please, I need, I need…" she gasped and moaned, pouting as best she could between her shuddering paeans to the pleasure Twilight was "inflicting" upon her. With her wings in full unfurl for Twilight, Fluttershy rocked and rutted herself forward onto Twilight's knuckles, and back into the loving massage of her rump.

"Tell me what you need, dear pet," Twilight said softly, licking a little bit of drool off her own lips. She so loved watching one of her subbies squirm and plead, especially a creamworthy combination of perfect alicorn beauty and shy, giving submissive like Fluttershy. … And big, rough sluts like her Applejack, once "forced" to be prettified for Twilight's play, and… okay. As Twilight smiled from ear to ear, she admitted it to herself-- she loved making her Elements cum. Making her girls cream. And of course, forcing them to beg for it made it all the sweeter.

Fluttershy squeaked and squirmed a bit longer, her thighs soaked in arousal. In a few moments, though, she beamed up at Twilight and whispered, "I need to cum, mistress. Please!" With the plea shouted, truly shouted, she began to pull herself up and down against Twilight's breasts feverishly. Fluttershy never stopped, concentrating on using her nipples to stroke Twilight's, using her breasts to adore the more dominant mare's rack. But neither could she escape Twilight's hands, and that's how Twilight decided to bring her over.

"You're such a naughty pony," Twilight purred, and Fluttershy wailed in pleasure. "Such a very naughty pony, and naughty ponies who want to cum need to be punished," Twilight said, leaning close to the frantic Fluttershy, squishing their delicious mounds further together. Fluttershy's eyes went wide, her whimpers almost turning into a single long squeal, and she began to pump herself rapidly into the pillowy embrace of her mistress, who just nodded.

"That's right," Twilight said, and moved the hand at Flutters' cunt to push her forward, moving the smaller alicorn up so her hefty tits were most of the way on top of Twilight's equally oversized rack. As Fluttershy began to wail at the lack of sensation, Twilight's femmejuice-soaked hand grabbed her thighs and held her close. She whispered, "Cum, slut," in Fluttershy's ear-- and spanked her. Then again. "Cum, my slut," growling the word "my" and tugging the ear with her teeth, just before spanking Fluttershy's immense bubble butt once again.

Fluttershy lost her grip on everything but Twilight-- Twilight, and the sheer ecstasy of Twilight dominating her. Twilight's hand stung Shy's sensitive plot, but she knew she needed it. Deserved it, not just because she was a naughty pony, but because she was so good at being a naughty pony, and her mistress had decided she deserved to cum.

And so Fluttershy came, repeatedly, crying out Twilight's name as she was held atop Twilight's tits. Fluttershy's cunt spasmed and winked, desperately seeking whatever had been stimulating it before. Her horniness spread through her whole body, all but forcing her to hump anything now.

Nevertheless, dedicated and trusting, Fluttershy held on to Twilight's breasts, squeezing and squirming and rubbing her body all over them, the better to please the mistress who --"AaaaAHhhhh!" Fluttershy screamed, as Twilight spanked her again. The carefully flicked swat lit off a wave that washed prior climaxes all away under a fresh rush of stimulation. Fluttershy's scream was not one of pain; Twilight's light swats were never intended to harm in the slightest. It was pleasure, utter pleasure, heralding the intense orgasm Fluttershy's stimulated rear forced her into. And Flutters did so like being forced.

"Mm, that's it, sweetie," Twilight cooed at Fluttershy, who was rubbing her tits frantically over Twilight's rack, urgent and needy. Fluttershy had partially crushed the metal back of the folding chair behind Twilight with her feet, so desperate was she to gain purchase and hold onto the mighty mare who was owning her so well. Her heels held onto Twilight's back, her knees clinging to Twilight's sides, the strength in her legs fixed on the purpose of holding herself for her mistress-- for giving her a platform to better pleasure her beloved friend.

Twilight barely felt it, the chair not even registering enough to be mildly uncomfortable. But she did feel Fluttershy's urgent wriggling, the pressure of tit to tit and the flick of hardened nipples trapped in soft, embracing flesh, and Twilight felt no need to hold back. Her eyes lidded, Twilight scooted forward on the seat, grinding the muscles of her thighs over the puddle of her femme juices.

Twilight leaned in close, evoking a shuddering squeal from Fluttershy, and told her, "Make me cum, slut. Make me cream," before leaning in to pull Fluttershy's right ear lovingly with her teeth. As her teeth settled in and made the swift, careful jerk, Twilight brought her hand down in four quick, stinging swats, twice for each vast and luxurious buttock that Fluttershy was shaking. "Make… me… cum!" demanded Twilight.

Fluttershy swam in the ocean of sensation. Pleasured breasts and needy pussy, the tug on her ear telling Fluttershy she was a good bottom mare, ready to be used, and most of all, the glorious combination of sting and stimulation from the swats of her mistress' loving sternness… it was what Fluttershy needed to cum. Needed so bad! But it wasn't enough for mistress, and before she let herself dare to cum, Fluttershy knew she needed to please Twilight. To thank her for this wondrous pleasure, for taking her mind down to a level where the world's stress and care simply evaporated away.

Fluttershy's eyes grew a bit vague, and a distant smile was on her lips. Twilight smirked a bit. Was that Shy coming out to play, Twilight wondered. Flutters didn't really have a subspace "persona" the way Twilight herself did, but Twilight sometimes mentally labeled the aggressively submissive part of Flutters' lifestyle psyche as "Shy." When Twilight's cute little subbie friend went full on… Ooh, yes, Shy was definitely coming out to play.

Her facial expression still a strange mixture of vacantness and blush-flushed enthusiasm, Shy changed the hold her knees had on her mistress' side slightly, slowing her bounce down. Her horn flared, and she summoned a nearby bottle, uncapping it and beginning to drizzle lubricant down where yellow and lavender breastflesh met. Demonstrating again the incredible strength beneath her lush curves, Shy held her lower body rigid while limberly tilting her torso back, giving her room to squirt the warm liquid all along her gigantic melons. Capping the bottle neatly, Shy teleported it away-- and then swung her top-heavy body back up to begin rapidly, desperately rubbing her breasts against Twilight's, making sure to keep their stiff nipples rubbing and writhing together.

Twilight leaned back a bit, casually forcing the chair's mangled back further out of position. She suspected it'd be scrap by the time they were done, but… those were details for later. For right now, she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, making Shy do all the work. And what lovely work Shy did, Twilight noted hungrily. Her breasts were giving her all sorts of wonderful sensations from the squish and shift of the meeting melons, and the tweak and tender dance of their nips was like lightning, shaking and twisting thunderously through Twilight's body.

Twilight kept her hands on Shy's ass, squeezing lazily, but otherwise making her "poor," eager bitch do all the work. As the bounce of boobs brought her closer and closer to her first orgasm, all Twilight would do is rub the jiggly excess of Shy's ass back and forth with her thumbs. Shy's half-frustrated, half-blissed out whimpers and grunts of passion were nearly as sweet for Twilight's horniness as the luxurious mash of their mammaries together. "Soon, Shy," Twilight groaned. "So soon, so close, dear slut… you can do it," she gasped, "Bring me over... so close, Shy!"

Shy obeyed. Her fingers were already working over Twilight's breasts and sides and arms. Shy knew where mistress' erogenous zones were; knew which muscles always needed caresses. Shy shifted in mistress' lap, twirling her slickened nipples around mistress'. Shy demurely looked up through her eyelashes. A smile on mistress' lips, a hungry glimmer in mistress' eyes. It was Shy's turn to lean across their squishy frottage, her fingers continuing their duty to pleasure wherever they could. She pressed closer, concentrating on both movement and ensuring her nipples were worshiping her mistress' thick nubs still, and offered her mouth to mistress.

"Please, mistress," Shy groaned. "Please cum for me? Please cum for me and kiss me, if it's okay with you, if I'm good enough for your pussy?" she whimpered, breath hot. Twilight reached up and grabbed the back of Shy's mane, pulling her in the rest of the way to kiss her fiercely, just for a moment.

Then, both of Twilight's massive arms wrapped around Shy's back, right under her wings. Shy had just a moment to luxuriate in the sweet sensation of being held protected against the whole world before the whinnying grunts from Twilight's lips turned into wordless cries of climax. The scent of marecum filled the room, and Shy squirted, too, squealing happily and burying her face against Twilight's cheek. Shy nickered and screamed, unrestrained by nervousness now, just needing to cum in worship of her boss mare's orgasm.

The shudders ceased after a few moments, and Twilight gave Shy a loving squeeze. One of Twilight's hands went back up to Shy's mane, petting and stroking through it as Twilight grinned. It wasn't a hazy, lazy grin; while Twilight was quite pleased, she intended to get so much more this evening, and she let Shy see all of that wicked hunger.

Shy was still gasping when Twilight said, "That was sweet, Shy. But you can really do better. I don't think I'm going to be satisfied with just that. You're just going to have to suck it up-- or rather, eat me out, is what I'm saying. I'm going to ride your face for a few hours, and honey…" Twilight leaned in and whispered into Shy's ear, "I'm going to make you work for it. I don't have any studying at the moment. You're going to have to get me to cum, and cum, and cum… I'm going to use you so hard, lovey."

Shy loved it. "Oh, yes, mistress! I mean… oh no!" she said in a soft, pleasured whisper. "Ohhhhh no, Mistress Twilight, but I've been so good!" The Stare hadn't worked, and Shy was just as glad the Lip wouldn't either, her mouth and especially lower lip quivering; she'd never use them if she thought there was a chance that her mistress might actually stop.

Twilight, of course, had no such ideas in mind. She tucked her arms under Shy's soft rump, and stood. With an embarrassed grin, Twilight cleaned the ruined chair, and teleported it down to maintenance. She'd fix it herself, but the girls had all made it very clear that none of them approved when Twilight stopped dominating them to take care of messes. The pouting! The sulks! Twilight couldn't handle it. Not when she had Shy's lovely combination of strength and softness to marehandle.

That, in fact gave Twilight an idea. With Shy still giggling and eeping and making seductive groans of repeated cries of , "Oh no," Twilight tightened her wings against their bases, and slung Shy up over her shoulder, the smaller alicorn's giant tits squooshed slightly against Twilight's back. Twilight gave a credible evil laugh, and carried Shy off.

It didn't take long for Twilight to get away from the aerial chariot loading docks and to a comfortable side room, set aside for generic "Use by the Princesses" on Friendship Castle's floor plans. Twilight mentally noted, with no small wryness, that the typical purpose these days actually tended to be "Use of the Princesses," as most non-sexual activities had plenty of better suited and more extensively equipped rooms within the castle's nigh-endless halls.

Speaking of which… Twilight grinned, and slung her friend and lover back around off her shoulder, and cradled Shy against her rack. "Hi there," Twilight told Fluttershy gently, and then kissed Flutters on the nose. "Given up on struggles for the moment?"

Flutters squirmed around a bit in Twilight's arms, groaning as their breasts, still slick from before, rubbed into one another. "I w-wonder why alicorn breasts are always so… tingly…" she said, not quite answering.

"Probably something something fertility, something something orgasms, honestly. Someponies keep distracting me when I try to research."

Fluttershy beamed at Twilight, and snuggled in for kisses once again. Eventually, Flutters stopped, and guiltily said, "Nope. No more struggles for me… unless you want them" Flutters asked, looking up hesitantly at Twilight from behind her pink mane, worried.

Twilight laughed softly, and shook her head. "No, sweetie," Twilight said with a fond smile, before continuing, "You don't have to keep struggling to end up wrapped up in my thighs. I meant it, too; I want a few hours worth of orgasms. We'll switch things up in a bit, but I want to start with you eating me out for a while."

Fluttershy's smile grew even brighter. "Thank you, Twilight," she said softly, and kissed Twilight again. "Thank you so much for being good to me, mistress," she cooed, and then wriggled just a bit. Twilight took the hint, and deposited Flutters down on the floor.

Although no less an heir to the power and grace of an alicorn than any of the other elements save Twilight herself, Fluttershy simply was not the same level of athlete as Dashie, and couldn't hold the same perfect position and still give Twilight the orgasms that Fluttershy fiercely insisted her mistress deserved.

So as Twilight sat down in one of the larger chairs, Fluttershy began to collect cushions and pillows around the room. Twilight smiled, watching her naked, jiggly pet run around, as determined as though she was going to be throwing a formal tea party for diplomatic guests. Fluttershy adored being a pampered pet, but, it seemed, to Fluttershy, that included taking care of her top when the moment was right.

Despite the telekinesis that all of the alicorns shared, Fluttershy still insisted on hand-serving her mistress whenever possible. She carried the various upholstery back to Twilight personally, cooing and making shy smiles as though an innocent maid, and not a potent alicorn with orgasmic and lubricatory juices still running down her thighs. As Fluttershy finished making sure that Twilight could sit as comfortably as possible with her plot almost half and half off the seat, Twilight leaned over and snagged Fluttershy by the waist.

Hefting her up, Twilight kissed the protesting Fluttershy full on the lips, holding it until she felt Fluttershy all but go limp in her arms. Twilight gently set Fluttershy back down on her feet, and swatted Flutters' jiggly tushy lightly. "Go get the reading pillow," Twilight said over Fluttershy's half-protesting, half-groaning response. "I'll tuck it in behind you," Twilight continued, and overruled Fluttershy's more definite protests at that.

Twilight stuck one of her hands down below her hard abs and said, "No arguing, Flutters!" as her fingers began to pin open her pussy lips and tease her clit lightly. "No arguing," Twilight repeated, letting out a pleased sigh and licking her lips, "Or I'll get myself off a few times without you." This, it seemed, was adequate to get Fluttershy moving; after a brief moment drooling at the sight of Twilight's exposed cunt, Fluttershy let out another worried eep and ran to get the reading pillow, a simple solution to the Unicorn Problem.

The Unicorn Problem had long vexed one third of ponykind, namely, unless one is less than adequately endowed in the horn department, there is, front or back, a certain degree of obstacle to going down on one's partner without either severely bruising their stomach or damaging one's own horn (which tends to offend). Those who suck on stallions have an easier time of it-- until the moment comes for the deep throat.

Throughout history, many solutions have been posited. While having one partner lay on their back works for some situations, it may eventually become boring, or a bed may not be convenient, et cetera. Investigating from the rear in the ancestral style still retains some awkwardness, especially if one's partner is well endowed in the pushin' cushion department. Twisting one's head slightly works for the more skilled, but adds a level of focus on things other than sexuality. Few ponies could manage to hold themselves as still and controlled as Rainbow Dash, let alone with a partner.

Some unknown hero proposed a solution which swiftly spread over the last few decades among the horned kind. Twilight vaguely wished she could cite whoever that was, or at least give them a medal. The answer, of course, was a simple reading pillow, able to give sufficient back support while allowing the head-giver to tilt back at an angle to properly please the one given head. For Twilight and the other alicorns, there was still some awkwardness, with the wings business, but as with chairs and pegasi, they managed.

Once Fluttershy returned with the reading pillow, Twilight, who had been masturbating to the thought of scientifically defining the problem and investigating its historical roots, as one does, smiled over at her sweet pet. "Down you go, dear," Twilight said. "Fingers aren't as good as a pretty slut's tongue," she added with a lewd-- if gentle-- smile.

Flutters blushed and nodded. "Are you sure I can't manage…" she started to ask while sitting down and arranging herself against the reading pillow, only to interrupt herself with a loud "Eeeeek!" as Twilight seized Flutters and the reading pillow both in her magenta magic.

Hiking up one of her broad, amazonian thighs into the air and extending her leg out straight, Twilight yanked Fluttershy so that her legs and much of her torso were beneath the tall-set chair, with the reading pillow tilted just so Flutters' mouth was inches away from Twilight's damp sex. "Certain," Twilight growled, and pulled her upraised thigh down, careful of Flutters' wings, and pressed her calf against the back of the pillow to push Flutters ever so slowly closer. "Eat me out, Shy. Do it now, and do it well," Twilight demanded, knowing well the effect it would have on her pet.

Fluttershy let out a long breath, managing only to groan, "Aahhhnnnnnnn!" as Twilight effortlessly trapped her again. But despite the thrilling frisson of fear Twilight's growl and the swift "capture" gave Fluttershy, she didn't truly think of it as a trap. No, this was safety. Mistress Twilight's pussy and Mistress Twilight's arousal told Fluttershy she'd be able to show how much she greedily loved her mistress; the impossibly strong leg wrapped around her back was protection against the world. Gratefully, Fluttershy inhaled deeply, her own sex gushing at the intoxicating aroma of her mistress' pheromones. This was where she longed to be; warm, safe, and owned.

Fluttershy ducked her head in against Twilight's twat with a swift, hungry motion, her shyness gone even as her Shyness came to the surface again. With her upper lip tugging lightly at Mistress Twilight's lavender labia, Shy began to swirl her tongue around just the very surface within mistress' walls. Shy knew mistress wanted orgasms, and fast, but also that building up was better than being too pushy. As Shy heard her mistress begin to breathe deeper and deeper, Shy knew she was doing the right thing.

Shy couldn't help herself from wriggling her squishy ass around. A good slut Shy might be, but she also knew she was such a naughty slut, rubbing her amazingly needy ass around on her cushion as a form of self-pleasure as she obediently ate mistress out. Shy knew it was naughty, but also knew that mistress simply didn't care. Shy hadn't been told not to cum, and as she gratefully teased her tongue along Mistress Twilight's demanding inner folds, she resolved to neither waste the opportunity nor to abuse it. Shy knew Mistress Twilight appreciated her bitches being disciplined, and Shy resolved to be as good of a naughty slut as she could!

Twilight reached up with her left hand to squeeze and fondle her left tit, fingers pinning her hypersensitive nipple between them and squeezing a light, rolling motion that helped to bring out her long gasps. Twilight began to wriggle forward, rubbing her cunny over Shy's mouth, marking Shy with her drizzling arousal. Twilight growled possessively, tightening her massive thigh around Shy's back and all but forcing Shy into her sex. "More!" she demanded, but smiled hazily; she couldn't quite see Shy over the breadth of her knockers, but she knew her lover well; Twilight began to gently massage between Shy's wingbases with her foot, using the heel carefully to rub Shy's taut, tense back.

Shy narrowed her world to her mistress, especially her mistress' musky pussy. The strong scent of a dominant, strong mare was there-- Shy's boss mare, the one who owned her, who petted her, who gave her nice toys (including nice mares and stallions) to play with, and who would cum all over her face if Shy was a good slut. Shy carefully shifted her head, glad that the reading pillow meant she didn't need to be too careful with her horn, and obediently followed the pressure of mistress' leg. Shy sealed her face to Mistress Twilight's cunt, her dexterous upper lip clinging gratefully to mistress' throbbing clit. She tugged and pulled, and deftly massaged the hardened little nub, but Shy wasn't just focused on the clit, no matter how important it was to pleasing her mistress.

Shy was expertly skilled with her tongue; in fact, her friends and their playmates all agreed that Shy's tongue work was the best of any of the Elements. Better yet, she had absorbed something of the "Flutterbat" in her apotheosis; her tongue was long, strong, and flexible, able to lap deep inside her mistress and slather affection upon Mistress Twilight's cunt. Which Shy did with gusto, letting out little grunts and gasps, nostrils flaring as she breathed in through her nose, her pupils dilating from the intense, sexual scent of Twilight's arousal. Her lip working ever so lovingly at mistress' pussy, Shy licked deep into the inner walls, flicking and touching, pressing the coiling tongue this way and that.

Twilight's G-spot was an old friend to Shy; Shy's help and go-to for getting her mistress off. Shy didn't just want to get Mistress Twilight off, though, no; as her tongue danced sweetly with mistress' hidden treasure and her lip adored mistress' clit, Shy began to squirm beneath Mistress Twilight, to wriggle and wiggle just so. Not only did it it help her to make pleasurably motions against mistress' labia, it helped paint the picture Shy wanted to show her mistress.

Shy wanted to show Mistress Twilight just how much of a slut Shy was. Not just how good, but how much of a horny, obedient, pussy-addicted subbie mare Shy was. And as she incited mistress to further and further cries of joy and delight, Shy looked up at the bottom of Mistress Twilight's breasts as though they were the central light of her world. Shy would have loved to meet her mistress' eyes, but having those giant tits around to love and worship was more than a sufficient trade.

Besides, Shy had absolute faith that Twilight knew. That Twilight could feel Shy surrendering utterly as Shy ate Twilight out. Shy looked up and gave her best adoring gaze not simply because she wanted it to be there if her mistress did somehow look, but because Twilight deserved that adoration, period.

Twilight let out a long, whickering cry, her wings beating against the back of her chair as the orgasm struck. Twilight squirted right down into Flutters' hungry mouth, her marejaculate pumping down in a stream. Twilight couldn't help herself; as the toe-curling orgasm hit, her thighs tensed, pinning her athletic subbie tight between Twilight's conquering legs. Even as her heel still fought to give Shy loving caresses between her wings, Twilight forced Shy up and down, rubbing Shy against her twat and making sure that the poor subbie couldn't swallow all of the splurt and squirt.

Shy squirmed and groaned, licking up Mistress Twilight's mess as she climaxed herself. She was trapped by her mistress, embraced by her mistress, and her face was used by her mistress. That was all Shy really needed, especially with her body already keyed up from serving mistress. As her orgasm continued, mistress coated Shy's face, struck with the inexorable urge to mark her friend as her bitch once again, and always.

After a few moments, Mistress Twilight felt her orgasm fade back softly and licked her lips. "A nice start, sweetie," she whickered down at Shy. "But my pussy needs some quality work. Maybe I should give my pretty little throne some incentive? Maybe use you as a footrest, too?" Mistress Twilight said, demonstrating her flexibility by hefting her right foot up until it was just about level with her waist-- and planted it on Shy's horn.

Shy immediately let out a series of short, ecstatic whimpers, the sensitive manactive organ reacting to just Mistress Twilight's broad foot planted against it. Shy was dazed by the sensation, her body still hot and reactive as the light climaxes mistress forced out of Shy in mistress' wake only left her skin, everywhere, and certainly at her hornbase, so tightly wound that Shy privately considered it a minor miracle that she wasn't losing control and just screaming constantly with pleasure into Mistress Twilight's crotch. That probably wouldn't have been quite as fun for mistress, so Shy resolved very sternly to make herself obey.

To obey-- that was what Shy knew she needed to do here. Her tongue and lips began fresh explorations of Mistress Twilight's thighs, kissing and licking there. Shy whispered little half-words, quiet noises of fascination with the interplay of plush fat over immensely potent muscles. Mistress' perfect, curvy body was fascinating to Shy, who always found her own curves perhaps just a bit too much? She much preferred hiding them behind her larger friends, or, as now, beneath one of her sexy mistresses.

Mistress Twilight let out a lewd sigh, and began to flex and curl her rippling six pack, using it to shift her hips and grind her rump towards Flutters without releasing her curvaceous bitch's horn. "Shy-y-y-y," growled Mistress Twilight. "Momma wants a pretty li-i-i-ght show… Have you been practicing how to just cum up top like I ordered?" she asked, trapping Shy's horn between her big toe and its neighbor near the tip of the horn.

Just as Mistress Twilight felt an immediate jolt of pleasure running up through her body, Shy abandoned her foreplay tonguing to prench out her mistress' streaming slit. Mistress Twilight could almost swear she felt Shy's magic running up from Shy's horn as Mistress Twilight footjobbed it; Shy had thrown herself utterly into the warm, entrapping embrace of mistress' thighs, obediently flexing that long, sturdy tongue into Mistress Twilight's twat, almost panicked with the desire to pleasure her mistress.

Mistress Twilight took that as a yes.

If it had been real panic, Twilight would have stopped; for that matter, Twilight had made freaking certain that Shy would tap out and/or safeword when panicking. With no pair of fingers submissively tapping her thighs, nor Shy pulling her head back to scream "photobomb," Mistress Twilight felt completely at home playing with Shy a bit more roughly.

So Mistress Twilight hooked her other massive leg up, temporarily exposing Shy's face completely as the lovely yellow alicorn ate Mistress Twilight's muff enthusiastically. While Mistress Twilight did like the sudden jitters and shivers of Shy imagining somepony watching her face-deep in her owner's cunt, Mistress Twilight had plans. Shy could shiver later.

Mistress Twilight's left foot hooked behind and beneath Shy's head and pulled her carefully up off the reading pillow to rest her horn along the line of Mistress Twilight's rapidly clenching abs. As Shy kept on worshipfully fluttering her tongue for Mistress Twilight's spasming slit, Mistress Twilight carefully pulled Shy up, and then trapped her there, her horn tip resting in Mistress Twilight's abs, Mistress Twilight's right foot jerking her horn off, and her tree-trunk left leg came down behind Shy's back again to hold her there-- and to press.

And press. And press. Mistress Twilight flexed muscles upon muscles against Shy's face, trapping her sub completely. There was cunt, and there was thigh, and there was foot on head and horn. Mistress Twilight did not permit Shy anything else, her incredible flexibility letting her hold the smaller alicorn easily, while still flexing, stroking, and squirming her body.

As for the horn, while Shy could and had cut armor plating in twain with it, it wasn't Mistress Twilight's abs that had the risk here. Shy was utterly vulnerable here; Mistress Twilight could snap the potent magical protuberance with just an unguarded squeeze of her six pack without any damage to her belly.

The fracture would be to Twilight's soul, and Shy knew it. Knew instinctively that Twilight would never harm her in the slightest. Use her, yes, Shy knew that and loved it. But hurt? Damage? No. And so Shy reveled in it. Reveled in being Mistress Twilight's trapped possession, her horn stroked aggressively by those impossibly hard abs, masturbated by pure strength in concert with Mistress Twilight's foot.

Shy's horn came. Shy's hands were free, but she clamped them down on her pussy, pleading with her clitty to be obedient to Mistress Twilight, to not make her gush femmecum while giving mistress her light show. It was quite the trick; most born unicorns couldn't do it, and Shy had been a pegasus before her ascension. A will of iron, a golden, pure love, and lots of eager practice with the other alicorns, though-- it was enough.

Pulling her long tongue back past her lips, Shy eagerly kissed and sucked at mistress' clit, but her efforts became amateur at best shortly. Mistress Twilight's relentless loving on Shy's horn forced the spectral climax to spew magic all over Mistress Twilight's abs and breasts. Mistress Twilight groaned and shuddered with pleasure, the phantom burst interacting with her command of Magic to produce an orgasmic rush of sensation over Mistress Twilight's vast rack.

Which was all Mistress Twilight needed. She pushed her foot back down over Shy's back, this time underneath the left wing, and screamed out in triumphant climax. Not a fountaining squirt this time, but a long, winking, rippling steady climax that nonetheless drenched Shy's face before and while Shy got her tongue to adoringly lap at the honey flowing out for her. Shy whimpered and licked, her horn's flare dimming, but her clit so needy….

"Shy… oh… oh, Shy, honey," groaned Twilight. "Yes… mm, yes, cum for me, sweetie. I want to feel you tremble in my legs.

Obedient, Shy creamed, squirming and wriggling and periodically turning her face as much as Twilight's domineering legs would permit to let out grunts and screams of pleasure and gratitude to her overpowering mistress. Shy loved mistress so. So much. So much. She wasn't aware she'd been screaming the words for more than a minute until mistress unclenched her thighs slowly, and reached down to cradle Shy's face against her pussy, fingers rubbing gently into Shy's mane as mistress' arousal marked Shy all anew.

Twilight let the indomitable masses of her legs slip gently down to the floor, lewdly grinding her slick pussy further against Shy's face. Carefully, as she sat up, Twilight helped Shy slink back onto the reading pillow, and just petted the smaller alicorn until she was less Shy and more Flutter.

"Mmm, thank you, mistress," Fluttershy said, beaming up at Twilight. She inhaled; her face was drenched in Twilight's marecum, and the scent was everywhere; Fluttershy felt almost as though she was still trapped against Twilight's pussy, safely collected in her thighs. "Ee," she said happily, almost as an afterthought.

With Fluttershy back up and bubbly, Twilight stroked and petted her, but didn't let her rise from the reading pillow. Every time she tried to get up to cuddle or begin eating Twilight out again, Twilight pressed Fluttershy back down with a casual exertion of light pressure from her amazonian legs. "Mm, no, honey, you're a part of my throne right now, remember? That's what you wanted," Twilight teased, adding, "I'm the one who gets to decide when my thrones get a taste."

"Oh, yes, mistress," Fluttershy said, and just snuggled up against Twilight's fishnet-clad calf, the thick muscle there wider around than Fluttershy's thigh by far. Even if Twilight didn't want her off the ground for a bit, Fluttershy could just cradle herself against that big, bulging muscle and relax, knowing that she was loved and guarded.

It was the massaging that inspired Twilight. "Hmm. Flutters, you said you'd been working on your strength and stamina, right?" asked Twilight, thoughtfully.

"Oh, my, yes," Flutters said, nuzzling and kissing from Twilight's hard calf to the inside of her knee. She beamed up at Twilight. "Does this mean I get to be a full throne like Dashie and give your ass all the tenderness and care it deserves?" Fluttershy's own rump was the most sensitive of all of the Elements, but she'd developed quite a fascination with the plots of the others as well. Caressing, massaging, analingus, no matter what it was that one of her sisters-of-soul wanted, Fluttershy threw herself into it with as much love and enthusiasm as she still tended to Ponyville's animals, sacred to her among all of her wildlife charges almost as much as her secret wards.

Unfortunately, while Fluttershy was pretty tough and very strong, the other Elements were extremely strong and dense-bodied. In the years since her ascension, Fluttershy's main role in the outside world was that of a diplomat and a healer; her secret role, a mystic and psychopomp. Unlike all of the others, Fluttershy's only real cause to physical exertion was her own practice and exercise, which she often didn't have as much time for as she might desire. As a result, while she could easily lift the others, she could generally only hold Rainbow Dash and Pinky up when they were thrashing around orgasmically. Fluttershy was ambitious in her submissive love for the other Elements, and like all four of the others, most head over heels for Twilight. She wanted to play, and she wanted to be used.

Twilight stroked Fluttershy's mane and nodded. "How about this, dear, the chair back will raise a bit so I can lean forward on it. You won't be able to get full access like Dashie, but, well," Twilight winked. "You can be my _massage_ throne. We'll pack up extra cushions all around you-- maybe put the side against a couch-- and you can spend a while eating out my ass and giving me the rubs and kisses I know you like," she said.

Fluttershy squealed happily and leapt up to hug Twilight's massive left teat, showering it in kisses. Twilight didn't stop her this time, just saying, "I'll take that as a yes, then, hon?" with a laugh. She leaned down, and kissed Fluttershy gently on her still sensitive hornbase, making the smaller alicorn twitch and groan into Twilight's breast. "How about this, dear; I'll even make you oxygenate like I did Dashie before she was made my little rump-licker?"

Fluttershy gave Twilight a quivery-eyed version of the Stare, and the Lip returned as well. "Please, mistress?"

Twilight snorted, and swatted Fluttershy's bare, bouncy rump again. "Oh, you," she said with a loving laugh. "I'm going to go get some things together, and, yeah, I'll get a book and tap on a Nap Stack. No sense wasting time with a sweetie pet upping my endorphins, mm?" she purred, and Fluttershy squeaked happily.

Twilight hauled furniture and cushions around; when Fluttershy tried to get up to help, too, Twilight just kept pushing her back down with her levitation. Flutters was a bit sulky, but not too much; she was being cosseted by her mistress, and it made her so wet. She chirped out a request to Twilight, "May I masturbate, mistress?" and Twilight laughed as she gave the affirmative. Fluttershy's pants and cries as she frigged out her pussy, so sensitive from the multiple orgasms she'd had already, were quite music to Twilight's ears.

Eventually, Twilight finished preparing Fluttershy for being a massage throne. She purred, looking down at Flutters, half-buried by the cushions. "You know," Twilight said, licking her lips, "I wonder if I shouldn't take further measures to make sure you're a good little throne. The amazonian giantess began to swing her widespread hips, just lightly, and Fluttershy groaned, scenting the arousal freshly trailing down the fishnet-clad muscles of Twilight's inner thigh once again.

"Oooh, yes, you should, please, Mistress Twilight?" Flutters said, and then said, "Uh, if that's ok- I mean, that's not ok with… I mean, oh no!"

Twilight winked an eye at Fluttershy, and rolled her hips a bit more. Fluttershy gasped, in shock, in horror, in recognition that the flex of those particular muscles probably meant mistress' pussy was winking, too, before Twilight said, "Yes, I think I must, no matter how much you beg!"

"Yay!" whispered Fluttershy and then a bit more loudly groaned, "Oh, my, no… no… uhmm.. I'm too soaking wet and naughty to be bound in some heretofore unexplained manner?"

Twilight grinned. "But you didn't say photobomb. And that means that you're going to be all anchored down by those cushions while you're face first in my plot," she said, leering and smiling lovingly, all at the same time. Twilight's horn glowed, and a sticky magenta field began to pulse and swarm through the cushions.

Fluttershy could have fought it-- all the more so because Twilight deliberately left holes that would allow Flutters to teleport anyway-- and might have been able to struggle out. Sure, she could have, but she definitely didn't want to do so. Fluttershy gave a long, happy sigh as she felt the various cushions become binding on her belly, on her legs, all over her, even between her low-hanging boobs and her cute little tummy. Twilight had Fluttershy caught-- more in the back than the front, and Fluttershy was going to enjoy it, darn it.

Twilight laughed softly. "That's my honey-bitch," she said fondly, and ruffled Shy's mane lightly before giving her a gentle swat with two fingers on the nose. "Oxygenate. And I expect better obedience out of you than Dashie," Twilight told Shy as the smaller alicorn pouted up at her mistress. Instantly, Twilight saw a certain smug satisfaction on Shy's face-- the "I'm a better subbie" look-- and smirked.

As Shy hyperventilated, panting rapidly, Twilight watched Shy's breasts bounce and jiggle with the activity. Twilight loved watching the huge knockers almost overbalance the otherwise anchored Shy, and lewdly flicked her fingers over her pussy as she watched. Mmm. Momma like, yeah, Twilight thought, rubbing her thumb over her clit while Shy forced herself to prepare.

When Twilight felt Shy would be ready, she swung gracefully onto the re-oriented chair, snuggling her hefty legs under the raised back and sitting down in one smooth motion, with her royally beautiful and princessly strong ass shoved right in Shy's face. "Time to massage, throne," she cooed. "Don't disappoint me, or I'll lock you down and leave," Twilight threatened, if just for the scene. She picked up "On Meta-Real Structural Dynamics" by Wordy Bracket. If there was much better than having your plot eaten out while you got to read up on sexy new fields of magic… okay, being fucked by the Astrals beat that, but not a lot else!

Shy leaned forward and inhaled her mistress' musk. Her mistress was obsessive about cleanliness in sexual matters-- well, obsessive about a lot, including getting her subbies off, Shy thought smugly-- but there was a delicious scent of mistress' arousal, mistress' sweat, and that strange combination of the two that included her musk. Shy knew, as few of her sisters did, of how the pheromones of an alicorn worked. We are the herd of herd leaders, Shy thought as she began to give dainty kisses to mistress' broad, beautiful butt cheeks. I may be the bottom mare, but I know, Shy thought, her tongue beginning to lick and press against the softness covering steel of mistress' glutes. That driving scent… not just arousal, but the chemical triggers that go right to the back of the brain, telling them that we are safe, and that our whims are to be followed, Shy thought, and followed mistress' whim, rubbing and massaging mistress' asscheeks while slowly kissing closer and closer to the crack.

This, among many things, was why Shy sometimes considered herself even more lucky than Mistress Rarity or Mistress Applejack. Mistress Twilight was the most lucky, of course; the Astrals, who left Shy's inner subbie whimpering deliciously just -looking- at her sexually, found Mistress Twilight worthy of their time and bed. But Mistress Rarity, mistress Applejack? They kept having to top. Shy could kiss and snuggle and lick, and soak up those pheremones. She could stop being a herd leader without surrendering her responsibilities; she could just be the herd's pet.

Shy fluttered her long flutterbat tongue into mistress' anus. The thick sphincter was a familiar friend as well, and Shy lovingly twirled the strength of her tongue this way and that, pressing and caressing at the front and the back to loosen mistress' ass up so Shy could prench it good. Shy took a few moments, rubbing with her reverent hands and eliciting oohs and murmurs of pleasure from mistress as she read.

Slowly, Shy pulled her tongue from mistress' ass, and pawed, almost feral like, at mistress' cheeks, rubbing her muzzle against mistress' left cheek to show she was still submitting, but wished to suggest. She was literally beneath her mistress, but mistress trusted her suggestions! Shy kept her eyes fixed on the owning butt before her as she heard Mistress Twilight turn her head to look back over her shoulder and ask, "Yes, pet?"

"If… if it's okay, mistress, may your pet use her magic to worship your pretty clitty, too? I want to deep tongue your plot like it deserves, but mistress, I've been good at multitasking… Your Shy wishes to please all of you and will be very slow and obedient, I promise!" Shy squeaked, and began to whimper and kiss, just lips to mistress' pucker, as she waited for the answer.

Twilight sighed happily. "You are such an obedient little slut, aren't you?" she nickered with a sort of lazy, pleasured groan. "Mm, and eager," Twilight purred. "I'll let you make your pitch, pet. But I expect a perfect ride, am I clear? And no climaxing for you until I'm done, honey. That may be an hour, or more if I decide to get more books."

Shy continued to pepper mistress' plot with kisses. "Yes, mistress, please, mistress. Shy is a naughty pussy, but I've been practicing my cunt discipline, I promise!" she said with squeaky little meeps in between words and kisses. She trilled happily, and twirled her tongue-tip around mistress' gently loosened ring, earning her a grunt of approval from Mistress Twilight. "I can do it! Shy really is a good slut. I can keep my clitty under control, mistress. I love you."

Shy heard her mistress let out another long, satisfied sigh, and Shy knew mistress had decided. Of course, as she promised, she was an obedient bitch, and continued to slowly press her tongue deeper and deeper into mistress' plothole, teasing the hard muscle and massaging it with flickering vibrations down the length. Shy's hands adored the soft lushness of mistress' plot-fat, squeezing it, letting it roll through her fingers until she reached the hard muscle beneath.

"Mmm, Shy!" said Mistress Twilight, panting. "Good girl… mmm… yeah, that's my little bubble-tender," she continued, and then dusted her tail gently over Shy's horn. "Frig me, pretty pet. Frig me all book long."

And so it was. Eventually, Twilight left the alcove with a snoring, blissed out Fluttershy over one of her colossal shoulders, carrying the poor dear to bed. "Well," Twilight said as she left Fluttershy's room, "At least I'm getting a decent send-off, but I'm going to need to adjust my schedule for all this demands to furnish at me." Twilight shrugged, and slapped one of her own hips, letting it jiggle with a happy sigh as she walked. "At least I learned to add some padding in a while ago…"

Chapter 3 - Pie for a Twi, Pussy for a Pinkie, Part I (Pinkie, Flare Warden, Spitfire)

In her sleep, Twilight rolled over and felt something large, squishy, and warm to her left. This was not unusual for Twilight, who rarely slept alone in the first place, and pretty much always had the first pick of available pillows. What was fairly unusual, though, was that the pillows in question were covered by a cotton t-shirt, and when the sleepy Twilight investigated them, a squeaky, "Hee, hee!" was heard, and a rustling of shy noises in the background-- two voices, Twilight's ears told her; both low. Feminine?

Before Twilight could do much more than experimentally squeeze the hefty rack she was resting against once more, she felt gentle hands stroking her own breasts and then a kiss on the forehead. "Wake up, sleepyhead! We've got guests!" Pinkie chirped

Twilight blinked the sleep from her eyes and swept up to her feet. She might have knocked Pinkie off the bed, or perhaps Pinkie just backflipped, jean-clad curves over t-shirt wrapped ones and back again, but the Alicorn of Laughter seemed to have avoided Twilight's clumsy roll to wakefulness as easily as ever. Twilight moved into a sitting position, her naked tits bouncing and her purple blanket draped precariously over her legs as she realized that, yep, she'd been right on the voices-- Pinkie had let the guests into the room.

"Flare! Spitfire!" Twilight said cheerfully, her muzzy morning expression sharpening into a bright one. She didn't particularly care that she'd put away last night's clothes before collapsing to get her Nap Stack in; both Flare Warden and Spitfire had been up close and personal with her hide on numerous enough occasions-- and she did love watching Flare blush and squirm, who had to resettle her long skirt before slowly rising to her feet.

Spitfire was in her most casual semi-formal suit, of course; a few more medals on the jacket, captain's bars traded for a colonel's stars exchanged for a general's long ago. Her usual sunglasses were clipped to a breast pocket; one hand to the side, the other saluting, body quivering at attention. The athletic, toned body of Rainbow Dash's top subordinate hadn't become slack as the years pushed on; of course, even with Rainbow's distaste for paperwork, it wouldn't be like Rainbow would precisely permit "her" Wonderbolt commander and strategic alter ego to become too deskbound. She was fit, and tough, filling out her tight uniform with strength and moving with crisp, sharp control.

Spitfire was about five foot three, on the short side of average, but between the windblown poof of her fiery mane and her projected force of personality, she seemed quite larger. Off-duty, she carried only her energy lance in its quiet little holster, but seemed to instinctively shoulder not only the absent weight of her diving lance and bomb-javelins, but of the entire arm of the Equestrian Forces of which she was the non-alicorn commander. Even doing her best not to stare at the gorgeous, naked body of one of her former mistresses, Spitfire maintained an air of projected confidence and dignity.

Spitfire's wife, on the other hand, stood quietly back behind Spitfire, her eyes fixed at Twilight's feet. Although Flare had never transitioned, her long, elegantly styled mane, the subtle make-up on her face, and a practiced stance to conceal much of her body's natural shape made it hard to tell that she was anything other than a tall, athletic woman. Standing a full foot higher than her wife, Flare Warden actually cut the a fairly intimidating figure when armed and armored as one of the Day Guardsmares.

That was not the effect that she was trying for today. Poofy would be the right word here; poofy sleeves, a navy blue blouse, ruffled with cream trim but otherwise tight to her skin, that dipped down past her hips to show how good the enchantments they had been given were-- not a bulge to be seen!-- and beneath that, a lacy, extravagant light blue dress that hugged Flare's legs before poofing out just above the floor again, showing off Flare's lovely red high-heeled stilettos. The ensemble was perfect; Twilight couldn't even see Flare's usual corset under the blouse, though the hourglass look confirmed that Twilight's former sissy was still making sure to present as curvy as a figure as possible for her proud wife.

As Spitfire saluted, Flare tugged lightly at the fabric around her thighs, and dipped into a full, deep curtsy, holding it until Twilight laughed, boobs jiggling, "Knock it off, the two of you. What do I have that two of my best 'graduates' haven't seen before?"

Spitfire cleared her throat and said with embarassed gruffness, "Begging your pardon, your highness, but as I did leave your stable of my own free will, taking Flare with me…"

Flare simply blushed and returned to a standing pose, though with her hands clasped in front of her body, and her eyes demurely down at the floor. "... We weren't sure what was permitted, when Princess Pinkie came here to wake you."

"Sillies!" exclaimed Pinkie, who had come up behind both guests. She squeezed their rumps, one of her broad hands on each smaller pony's tush, before saying, "I told you, you're here for my going away party for Twilight!" She giggled. "A face-sitting going away party," Pinkie added, then leaned down, pressing her enormous tits against the two pegasuses' backs, and whispered, "Besides, you know you've been wanting to give yourselves an anniversary present."

Twilight cocked her well-rounded right hip forward and flexed out the huge muscles there. She dearly cared for Spitfire and Flare, like any of the little ponies who had been there for her and the girls emotionally as well as physically, and if Pinkie said this was more than a casual visit, Twilight figured she could make the decision easier on the pair. Though the flustered look she got from both mares was quick delicious.

Flare Warden was the first of the two to break under the beauty before them. "Y-yes, Mistress Pinkie," she said, mumbling. "We have been wanting to ask Mistress Twilight or Mistress Dash to p-play again."

Spitfire gently squeezed her hesitant wife's hand and swallowed, nodding. Pinkie goosed both of the smaller ponies gently, though they'd been trained enough for "Pinkie being Pinkie" that this only elicited an eep from Flare and a grunt from Spitfire. Pinkie grinned, and tugged on Spitfire's ear with her teeth. "You know you'd like to help me; you know you want to belong to us — for a little while a least. An early gift for you two, a surprise gift for my friend-- doesn't that just make you wanna cream?" she whinnied softly.

Twilight noted from the subbies' groans that they were definitely coming around to Pinkie's plan. She began to stalk closer, deliberately over-bulging and over-tightening her limbs with each movement above and below. She was gratified to know that they still wanted her,even after being given to one another; now, she thought firmly, to give them the show they deserved.

Naked and yet still the absolute mistress of the room, Twilight stepped forward, and forward, as Spitfire and Flare watched her with awed eyes. Her huge nips perked out, crowning Twilight's breasts, as she carefully aimed her movements to point them towards the couple when the sway of her chest permitted.

The pair swallowed deeply, their chests showing off Spitfire's B-cups and the delicately maintained As on Flare. Spitfire managed to tear her attention from Twilight's heaving tits enough to wrap her arm more fully around her tall wife's-- tall, hah; if Spitfire only came up to Twilight's waist, staring right at the goddess' pussy, Flare was "stuck" being right at teat height. Even Pinkie, kneeling behind them, was still taller than Spitfire, and didn't have to straighten much to nip at Flare's neck and ears gently.

As they had both decided was proper long before they even got married, Spitfire made the final decision. She bowed deeply at the waist, forcing Flare along with her. "MIstresses," Spitfire said, her voice scratchy with lust and fear, "We would greatly appreciate the honor of being made your toys again this fine morning."

Twilight made a gleeful noise and grinned, rushing up to give them both an enthusiastic hug. "I'd love to! It's just so great to see two of my favorite sluts again. The letters are nice, but they're not the same thing as getting some heat between my thighs," she said, stroking a finger over the suddenly blushing Spitfire's lips, "And getting to see someone's progress with taming her oversized clit, mm?" Twilight said to Flare, reaching over to stroke her hands curiously along where the dress should have revealed Flare's sheath.

Twilight casually groped, of course. These two and Pinkie had come to her wanting to be mistressed, and that meant that their bodies were hers. She squeezed, her fingers feeling the enchantments she herself had put on Flare. Flare was endowed only a bit above average for a male member of the guard (not counting the Astrals' personal attendant-cadres), but even that much was occasionally a problem for ponies born with male bodies as opposed to less … imbued… species, though at least they had it better than the poor minotaur and elephant trans females.

Permanent body transformation magic wasn't easy. The spirit wants to be in its birth housing, after all, though for someone like Flare who had a feminine soul underneath, it was less difficult. There was also still a strong undercurrent of resentment in Equestrian society against males who gave up the ability to sire children, as well. Both of these could easily have been overcome for a friend of the princesses-- especially the Princess of Magic-- but Flash hadn't wanted to completely transition when he became Flare. He had still felt fairly adamant about being able to sire children, and her kink, while not directly connected to her sense of gender, had some elements of the tease to it.

Twilight had known her Flare was good at protecting others. It was her cutie mark, after all; she instinctively knew where she was needed and how to get there in time to protect others. But she found some element of it exhausting; perhaps that was why she had entered the traditionally male Guard rather than the more female-oriented aerial forces like the Wonderbolts. Free of the need to jockey for position that seemed to be a required part of the feminine mindset required for promotion in the offense-oriented troops, Flare had risen to become a well-liked low level officer and had been seconded to follow Princess Cadance into the Crystal Empire.

Along had come Twilight, who had been favorably impressed by Flare's mirror-self and had sought out the equinoid version for some fun. Twilight, of course, was not one of those "every stallion must remain in their place" types by any means, and had helped Flare to socially transition, introducing her to Rarity, running interference against backlash, and so forth. For a while, she'd been training Flare to be one of her sub-dominants, a switch to help her with the extravagant scenes and multi-partner affairs that Twilight's above-normal alicorn sex drive was pushing her towards. Not wanting to disappoint Twilight, Flare had obeyed, never mentioning her real desires.

Eventually, the stress had worn on Flare until she had confessed, sobbing, to Twilight that she didn't want to be a boss mare, or a boss mare's beta; she wanted to be a protected low-status ornamental, a sort of inverse broodmare, the dainty object of affection from mares and stallions alike, and she had a real fetish for being humiliated as well that Twilight had completely misinterpreted. Twilight had kicked herself for missing that, and after some gentle lovemaking, Twilight had helped Flare set up a dual life.

During business hours or major social effects, Flare Warden was known as a confident, competent mare who bridged the gap between the mare-run primary military and the stallion home guard. She'd been promoted as well; was, in fact, Shining Armor's second in the Crystal Empire. Known for both being calm and self-assured during day to day affairs and having an excellent head for tactics and leadership, Flare was considered one of the not-so-minor heroes of Equestria.

At home, though, or among those friends who could be counted on to understand, Flare wore-- or rather was dressed, first by Twilight, and later by Flare's wife-- extravagant, containing dresses, corsets, frilly and lacy frou-frou wear. She was quiet and submissive to her bossmare, but, while often blushing, made sure to stay pretty and knew how to show herself off as a trophy. And in the bedroom, Flare got exactly the level of teasing, controlling domination that she had always desperately wanted.

Like today, for example. Twilight stepped easily back into the role of Flare's stern boss mare, as though she had never left. Twilight's spells meant that Flare could get quite aroused by touching around the groin without her cock making itself known as anything other than what Flare considered to be a delightful sense of constriction. Twilight nickered hungrily as her fingers stroked over Flare's flat tummy, down over the smoothness of her dress, and then used her magical mistressy to let her strong, gentle fingers caress Flare's sex through its enchanted concealment.

Flare blushed and whinnied as Twilight reclaimed Flare by touch and presence, hugging tight onto Spitfire's shoulders, but she was not hesitant in the least below the waist. Flare lewdly ground her hips forward, the better for Twilight to molest her. "M-mistress," gasped Flare softly, and Twilight kissed her on the lips, then Spitfire.

Twilight smiled broadly; Spitfire was looking quite aroused by this casual use of her wife. Twilight leaned in to lovingly kiss Spitfire again and said, "I see you've been taking very good care of my gift, Spits." Her nicker was lewd and low, and the two spouses squirmed a bit. "Safewords are the same?" asked Twilight gently as she rose back up to her full height. Pinkie was starting to tap her foot; there was a party to go to, after all.

Spitfire bowed, and Flare curtseyed again. As was proper, Spitfire answered for both, saying, "I've taken good care to maintain order as you showed us, mistress." She smiled fondly at Flare. "I don't want to risk my cutie, after all." Flare just blushed.

Twilight chuckled, and then pondered. "The leather, today, then. You two deserve a little thrill." Flare and Spitfire swallowed. Unlike what some of the more omnivorous species believed, ponies could and did eat non-sapient animal flesh as a part of their diet, but it was quite rare, and hunting strictly restricted, given the necessary symbiotic relation between ponies and creatures. Leather clothing was a luxury, especially Twilight's pieces, which weren't stitched together from multiple small hunts over the years. Complete, single-source leatherwear such as hers were generally imported from outside Equestria, and there was always some dubiousness as to the origins; Griffon-tanned leather had been outright banned if it came from any territory not under the Griffonstone Resurgence. Twilight's was well-sourced, of course.

Twilight grinned. "Dress me, Flare. You know where everything is." She turned to Pinkie and asked, "Should I have Spitfire get you dressed for the party too, Pinkie?"

Pinkie, clad only in a very stretched-out green and white horizontal striped t-shirt and a pair of extremely tight pseudo-denim jeans over her outrageous curves, blinked at Twilight. "I'm already dressed, Twilight! Oooh, have you been researching ways to see through clothing?"

Twilight said, "No, Pinkie, but maybe our guests would like something a little more forma…"

Twilight trailed off as Pinkie pulled a bowtie from her cleavage and tied it on quickly. She sighed. "Fine. But this show is just for Flare and Spitfire then. Which room should we meet you in?" Twilight dominated Pinkie, this was technically true, but she was never really sure how much she was actually in charge, and how much Pinkie simply went with the sociosexual flow of their interactions.

To an extent, Twilight enjoyed having a real challenge among her primary submissives, of course. Rarity and Applejack tried, the poor dears, but it was perfunctory for the most part. It had taken Twilight several years to realize that one of the consequences of Pinkie's slipperiness was that Pinkie kept her and the other girls at a strange remove to complete intimacy. They all knew that Pinkie loved them dearly, but something was always missing, and Twilight still didn't know how to breach Pinkie's walls.

Pinkie, however, just smiled gleefully and bounced, her wild mane and giant rack bobbing. "Sure thing, Twi! I'll get the tandem chairs set up and some extra frosting!" she said gleefully, and pronked out. Twilight laughed and shook her head.

As Pinkie closed the door, Twilight pointed at the closet. "Actually, Spits, you get re-dressed too," she commanded. "I think I still have some latex variants on the old Wonderbolts costume in there, and I'm not risking a Dashie yelling because I damaged your uniform. You can get up close and personal with me and Flare as she dresses me."

Spitfire saluted, and started to strip. Twilight made a rough growl of lusty appreciation that made Spitfire hurry up to get her trousers off, and forced Flare to squirm as the enchantment was tested. While Twilight did prefer a bit more meat on the bones for her pretty partners, there was something exquisite about Spitfire's tight-packed body, like Twilight's Dashie in miniature and to more realistic, aerodynamic proportions.

Meanwhile, Flare had recovered both Twilight's "party leathers" and the latex "uniform" for Spitfire; for all Spitfire took care of her, Flare adored Spitfire and did everything she could within the terms of their relationship to reciprocate. Flare had left the latex near Spitfire on a shelf, and was now hanging back behind Twilight demurely with the first of her leathers in arm.

"Hey, sweetie," Twilight said and turned to stroke Flare's cheek. The smaller mare whinnied softly and nuzzled Twilight's hand. "Suit me up, there's a pretty." Flare blushed, and kissed Twilight's left rump cheek daringly before kneeling down and holding up Twilight's black leather bikini bottom near her feet. Twilight stepped into it, one after another, and Flare tugged the leather upwards, kissing softly over Twilight's muscle-rippling limbs as she went.

She didn't quite dare to kiss Twilight's muff without permission; once Flare had struggled the waistband over Twilight's mammoth hips, she looked up with begging eyes at Twilight. "Mistress?" Flare asked softly.

"Kiss away, Flare," Twilight said. "You're my graduate, not a newbie. You've earned the right to be affectionate," she told the guardsmare gently.

Flare kissed Twilight's leather-clad groin, then stroked her fingers over the sealed flap. The leather was carefully made so that a few light adjustments would leave Twilight's sex and ass open to be worshiped by her submissives, though it was currently closed. "Do you wish to begin open or closed, mistress?" she asked with a silly grin on her muzzle.

Twilight chuckled, her bountiful breasts shaking over Flare's head, making the genteel mare's smile widen all the further. "Closed for now, hon. You've earned the right to kiss, but to come between my thighs takes further work, you know that," she teased and then winked at the pegasus. "I'll put the bra on last, though," Twilight promised, and pressed her broad hands up under the jiggling mass of her mammaries, letting the soft flesh squeeze between her fingertips as she hefted her tits high. The left, she simply shoved towards Flare's face and ordered, "Kiss, my sweet sissy. You know you want to," the right, she let bob and fall.

Grinning over at Spitfire, who was struggling into the purple and magenta latex mock up of a Wonderbolt uniform, Twilight traced her right index finger over the huge nipple. "This one is here for you, Spits. As soon as you finish dressing and come to help your mare." Twilight cooed, still grinding her left nipple into Flare's face as the groaning transmare hungrily kissed and tentatively licked at it. As Twilight just smiled and permitted it, Flare pleasured her mistress' nipple adoringly.

Twilight groaned a bit, swishing her tail and flexing her wings as Flare adored her nipple. The little licks over the hyper-sensitive nub sent short, swift jolts of delicious sensation over Twilight's heavy hooter, and Twilight reached down slightly to grab and stroke Flare's groin through her dress. Twilight used her sense of magic to find where the mana lines were concealing Flare's cock, and concentrated mana in her hand, a magenta flare that transferred from Twilight's groping fingers to fondle Flare's concealed package and force further arousal out of her. "That's it, sweetie. Pant for your princess. Let me feel that hot breath over cool spit-- and speaking of, Spits," Twilight said as Spitfire wriggled and jumped to get into her suit, "Hurry up or I'll let Flare put my bra on soon," she teased.

Spitfire coughed and almost fell forward. The latex was somewhat more difficult than a normal flight suit to get on, and apparently, Spitfire wasn't wearing a suit of it in her own bedroom. Eventually, though, she tugged it on, conscious of the press of her sweet little nipples against the pliant material, of the slight tautness tucking the latex against her vulva and displaying her camel toe. Once, she would have been embarrassed; here, she was Twilight's, and knew she had no shame when it came to her mistress' plans.

Running over to kiss Twilight's left nipple as promised, Spitfire said, "Sorry, mistress, just not as used to it any more." She blushed hotly, only the tip of her muzzle and around her eyes showing past the mask of the suit.

"Keep kissing, Spits," Twilight instructed, and Spitfire eagerly did so, her lips eagerly sending little smacks of pleasure through Twilight's chest. Twilight groaned, her tail swishing behind her rapidly. "Mm. If it wasn't for the fact that we'd be keeping Pinkie waiting…" Twilight said huskily, trailing out at the end. She gently stroked the rumps of both pegasi with her long wings, and patted Flare's lightly. "The boots next, Flare," she ordered and smiled

Flare carefully unzipped two huge, stompy boots. No stilettos, though the thick rubber soles on the otherwise leather thigh-highs were raised slightly in the heels. Twilight stepped into one, and permitted Flare to kiss her way up along Twilight's powerful leg while zipping. Spitfire, she scooped up into the air with her telekinesis, and began to stroke and squeak her hand against the taut latex. "Take it home with you," Twilight decided.

"Mistress?" Spitfire asked, blinking. "I know there are several enchantments on it; Tartarus, mistress, it's nearly as good as some of our battlegear and that's before the … pleasure... aspects!"

"Mmmhmm. I was experimenting with the material. It's quite impressionable on the metareal, you know," Twilight said with a laugh, still holding the hot-tempered general captive in her magic.

As Twilight stepped into the other boot and stroked her wings over the kneeling Flare's ass, the blue-maned pegasus softly said "You look wonderful in it, love; it'd be a nice reminder of our wedding flight, too."

Spitfire grinned goofily and wriggled a bit in the magical field. "If you're certain, mistress, I have to admit, I'd love to play rescue the ornamental in some sort of uniform" she admitted.

"I'm going to be gone for two years, dear sub," Twilight explained, cupping the smaller mare's more reasonably sized teats in her outsized hands. As Spitfire groaned, Twilight began rubbing her thumbs over the latex bumps displaying Spitfire's nipples. "If I want to make more, I can; if I want to gift you something to fly in my colors… I doubt my sweet little Dashie will object," Twilight said with a wink.

Flare and Spitfire exchanged a look that got them both spankings from Twilight's wings. "She's my sweet little Dashie, even if she's your badass boss," Twilight sniffed. She set Spitfire down as Flare stood. Her subs' attitude difference was clear; free of the need for being a masculine symbol, Flare stood demurely despite the slight sting on her rear, her hands cupped genteelly over where Twilight had molested her magically concealed cock.

Spitfire, on the other hand, rubbed her palm over the purple latex on her butt, trying to sooth the sore spot, with a squeak, squeak, squeak of latex on latex. "Yes, mistress," Spitfire grumbled, adding something about callsigns and high Generals, and Twilight grinned. She loved how wriggly and stubborn Spitfire could be! Back when she had started out, Spitfire had given Twilight so many opportunities to correct her lovingly, and Twilight was proud that she'd never broken the mare's spirit, merely taught her to be respectful to a mistress. She'd gone all the way through Loving Seat's "Big Book of Dressage" and Creamy Crop's "Over Your Knee and Off the Peak" both with Spitfire as her checklist "volunteer."

Twilight held out her arms to either side, pulling her wings behind her back. She curled her hands into fists, showing off the power of her arms as a bulge swelled first on each forearm, and then as she squeezed her hands and tensed her chest, pushed up a mini-peak on her biceps. Twilight relaxed the show slowly, her clit pulsing against her leather panties as she watched both subbies drool over her titanic strength and taut definition. As Twilight held her hands out, palms up, she said, "Mmm, you like that, sweeties? Get my gloves over here and on."

Flare and Spitfire hastened to obey, moving like a smooth unit. Even if the pair had never served in the same branch, the obvious love and closeness over their year of being married and their inherent agility and orderliness made them work well as a fluid pair. Twilight bit her lower lip lightly as she wanted Flare's dainty grace and Spitfire's taut athleticism meld into a solid team, almost like a performance-- almost nothing, Twilight thought, and the two pegasi chorused aroused groans as Twilight gave them a lustful leer.

She grinned as the two helped fit her long leather gloves up to her elbows, and zipped them up tight. Twilight took their chins in hand and stroked them possessively. "Have you talked to Shiny about subbing for him or Cadance occasionally?" she nickered. "Because if so, I want pictures or spell holos of you two moving together. You've become so sexy as a pair, my little sweetwings."

"No, mistress," Spitfire answered for them, and grinned wryly. Spitfire grabbed her wife's crotch, the enchantment permitting her to molest Flare's cock without needing Twilight's mastery of its magic. As Flare let out a little series of gasping oh-oh-ohs, Spitfire explained, "Flare's a bit embarrassed. I think she had a crush on your brother for a bit."

Twilight shook her finger at Flare. "Spits, go get my spikes-- and a pair of leashed collars for the two of you," she said, smiling at Spitfire before looming over Flare. "Flare Warden," she said, a half-growl, half purr that she remembered Flare responding to quite well indeed.

So it did; Twilight watched Flare cup her hands over her groin and kneel low again, panting, her wings extended out to either side in arousal. "M-mistress?" asked Flare softly.

"You are no longer in my stable, it's true. But I don't think you've surrendered all of your loyalty to me, yes?"

"That's correct, mistress. Unless mistress Spitfire orders otherwise, I would follow your commands to nigh death."

"Mm," Twilight chuckled and stroked Flare's blue mane as Spitfire hurried back, her expression muffled by the latex mask. Twilight softly said, "Speaking as one who loves you, Flare, remember that you swore to Spitfire as her wife and her pet. Your limbs and… bits, are Spitfire's first, unless I call upon you as an Equestrian. That said, Spits, may I command your sissy?" Twilight commanded, bringing her knee slightly forward to press against the smoothness of Flare's dress, violating her tuck enchantment with light teases once again.

Spitfire saluted Twilight and said, "I think I know what you have in mind, ma'am. Please! It'll give me an excuse."

Flare swallowed heavily, looking from smaller mare to much, much larger. "Er…" was all she managed, though some of her genteel demeanor was lost as she stroked her groin up and down against Twilight's leg. The tuck enchantment gave temporary way, and Flare's shaft bulged against the pretty tightness of the dress.

"Now. You know you're not allowed much shame unless we tell you, right, my weak little sissy?" Twilight growled at Flare, who just gasped, nodding as her dick, restrained by a conventional sheath, strained against the dress and squirmed against Twilight's potent muscles. Nodding, Twilight said, "And if your mistress wants to rent your ass out to a superior mistress or master, one that you trust and feel safe with…?"

"I… I need to talk it out with her, mistress, but if I don't feel safeword…" gasped Flare.

Spitfire strapped thick, black rubber bracers onto Twilight's wrists, blunted spikes radiating out, first one, then the other. She quirked an eyebrow at Twilight, who nodded, and Spitfire took up her old position behind Flare, grabbing her wings and stretching them out carefully, firmly thumbing the captured flight muscles. "Answer the princess completely, slut!" she growled at Flare.

A dreamy smile took over Flare's face and she leaned forward, bumping and grinding against Twilight's knee, "My ass and my lips, my hands and my dick, my wings, and everything but my heart are my mistress', unless I safeword so her toy isn't damaged," moaned Flare, kissing Twilight's quads.

"Then that's your answer. When you get back to the Crystal Empire, I want you to spend a night, non-kinky, talking about your comfort zones, and the lust your silly little mare-nuts drive you to. And if you feel like you can, I want you to seduce my brother and beg my sister-in-law to let you and your wife service them. Spitfire shouldn't have to do all the work, all of the time," Twilight ordered. She'd long ago gotten used to the fact that Shiny had nearly an alicorn's sex drive, and he and Cadance had quite the extensive bedplay.

It was perfect, really, Twilight thought as Spitfire gave her a grateful look. Flare got to act on her crush. Spitfire got to be topped, possibly by Cadance. And Twilight would get pictures. She was smiling smugly as Flare was nearing her peak rutting herself against Twilight's knee, and Spitfire put on anklet spikes like the ones at her wrists, when Pinkie snuck up behind Twilight and goosed her leather-clad ass. "Pinkie!" shouted Twilight, outraged.

Pinkie sulked, and wriggled her rump as Twilight TK-paddled it. "You're having fun without me, and you're missing all my party decorations!" Pinkie said, and grinned, adding, "I can see why. Flare's such a pretty swishie, and Spitfire looks so cute in her uniform." Pinkie reached up under Twilight's massive arms and wings to stroke and caress Twilight's tits from below, squishing her own huge knockers into Twilight's back. "Please come to the party, Twilight?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "You're the one who woke me up naked and brought pretty pets in. Was I supposed to not use the poor sluts?" she asked, then nodded to Spitfire. "Spits, collar yourself and Flare," she commanded. "Pinkie, go grab my bra and put it on, since you're here. Let's put your height to some use."

Pinkie withdrew from cuddling Twilight gave a credible imitation of Flare's salute, save that her braless tits bounced and jiggled outrageously. Twilight whicker-whistled appreciatively and lewdly stuck her fingers into the waistband of her leather panties, frigging herself in little, slow motions to build up the warmth. "That's my Pinks," she said with a leer. "Hurry up, dear, or we're starting the party here and now."

Pinkie laughed, a rolling, perky giggle that did nothing to stop her bouncy bonanza of boob motion. Her wings fluttering, Pinkie turned towards the last of the leatherwear and yanked it into her hands with a light blue flash. She gave a brief pout; while the cups did have flaps to fold open just like the matching bottom, Pinkie seemed to disapprove of her sister Element having her nipples covered at all.

"Just put them on, Pinkie," Twilight said with a sigh.

"On me?" Pinkie asked brightly, smooshing the leather up against her T-shirt and humming quietly. "It's not exactly a fit, maybe I should tweak it a bit first-- do you think it goes with my shirt stripes?"

"Pinkie!" Twilight said and poked her friend's belly.

Spitfire had a thin rubber collar with a leash attached on both her throat and Flare's. With their leashes hanging between their slight breasts, the pair watched their big, buff, busty mistresses slap and tickle at each other lightly for a few moments. Eventually, Twilight tickled Pinkie into submission; laughing all the way, Pinkie carefully pulled the straps of the leather bra over Twilight's hefty arms and broad shoulders, carefully working the straps to give her wings plenty of room.

Pinkie grinned. "Guess we did start the party a bit early," she chirped, "But the cupcakes and the special chair are waiting for us in the other room. And the balloons! Though we've got Spitfire here," she said, laughing and stroking the latex-clad pegaus' body. Pinkie's eyes twinkled as she ran a finger up and down over Spitfire's stomach and she softly said, "Should we stuff you up, mm, with your wife's yummy icing?"

Leaving Spitfire stunned and panting, Pinkie bounced up to Twilight and saluted, jiggles and all, once again. "Ready for partying head princess ma'am!"

Twilight laughed and shook her head. "Let's walk the dears over, Pinks. Ladies, your leashes-- present!" she ordered, and Spitfire and Flare scurried up to the amazonian alicorns, bowing their heads and holding up the loops. Twilight took Spitfire's leash, and Pinkie Flare's.

"This way, girls!" Pinkie said with a smile, and tugged lightly to the left. Pinkie had been one of the first to navigate the Friendship Castle without a guide-- possibly the second after Barb, come to that-- and even now, Twilight wasn't entirely sure that Pinkie wasn't… finding… a faster way than should have been possible through the castle's twists and turns.

With Flare leading the way at Pinkie's orders and Spitfire following close behind, Twilight stroked Pinkie's back with her left palm. "I'm going to want to start with party games for our pretty thrones first, I think. And of course my most special throne of the occasion," she purred. "Do you have something in mind?"

Pinkie grinned turning slightly to kiss her beloved friend and mistress on the lips. "Don't I always, Twi? Don't worry, we'll give you a show first, Spitfire and I, and Flare can please you while we play, and then trade off." Pinkie stopped, and Twilight followed suit, pulling the pegasi to a halt with a tug on their collars.

Twilight turned her head a bit. "Mm, are we there, Pinkie?" Pinkie shook her head quietly for a moment, and then, still holding Flare's leash, she wrapped her arms around Twilight's neck and leaned up to kiss Twilight desperately.

Surprised, but only briefly, Twilight returned the kiss eagerly, resting the hand holding Spitfire's leash on Pinkie's left hip, her other hand snaking behind the smaller alicorn to possessively squeeze Pinkie's juicy ass. Her tongue fluttered with Pinkie's, tasting the sweetness of her mouth and wrapping back and forth rapidly. Twilight could feel Pinkie tremble in her arms, and hugged Pinkie tighter, letting Pinkie feel Twilight's strength and care. She broke the kiss slowly, and touched her horn to Pinkie's.

Spitfire wrapped her left arm possessively around Flare's waist, and squeezed lovingly. "Let's give the mistresses a bit of privacy," she whispered.

"How?" Flare asked, blinking, and tapping her leash. Spitfire answered aggressively, taking part of Flare's leash in hand and dragging her wife's head down to her level to kiss her fiercely as well. The hot-tempered Wonderbolt seized Flare's attention as well, letting the inspiration of the alicorns' kiss help her shield her mistresses' private conversation.

As the light transfer of magic between their horns stimulated both alicorns, Twilight whispered, "Still want you always, Pinks. If it would make you mine, really, all the way mine, I'd take you with us." Her voice was soft, but gravelly with emotion, half pleading, half demanding.

Pinkie stroked Twilight's cheek lightly and clasped her wings within Twilight's span, snuggling the beefier alicorn's arms and sides. "I want… I think I want…" Pinkie's mane and tail flattened, just a bit, not all the way. "I know I want you and the girls," she whispered softly. "But I made a promise… I don't know if I'm free to be yours first." Pulling the leash's loop down onto her wrist, Pinkie stroked the unclad skin around Twilight's leather bra, caressing and fondling the hefty mammaries as though exploring them for the first time. "We're still friends, right?"

Twilight folded her wings across Pinkie's and cuddled Pinkie close She also slipped the loop of the leash past her hand, and pressed both hands up between Pinkie's wings on her back. "Always, Pinkie," Twilight said softly. "Before we're lovers, before we're Celestia's troubleshooter team, before any of that, we're friends. I will keep up with you by Barbmail and I promise, I absolutely promise, I will return and I will always be your friend," she told Pinkie, and then Twilight winked. "Plus I gotta make sure my giggler is taken care of," Twilight said with a light kiss on Pinkie's nose. "My morale officer," she explained, wriggling her eyebrows.

Giggling, Pinkie wriggled out of Twilight's arms and wings, then gestured over at the pegasus couple. Twilight put one finger to her lips, and Pinkie nodded her agreement. Stealthy in the way that giantesses shouldn't be, the two crept up on their snogging subbies, and moved quite suddenly behind them-- then, in a flash, smished their chests together around the lithe pegasi.

Twilight let out a happy groan as the pair abruptly began to struggle, surprised by their mistresses' "cunning ambush." Pinkie giggled in between pleasured squeals as both alicorns seized their respective pegasus by the waist and pushed them lightly to prevent them from escaping the marshmallowy confines. "Nuh-uh-uh," Pinkie said with a grin. "Pretty toys who start making pretty smooches have to finish up. Rules!"

Leaning forward to nibble on Spitfire's right ear, Twilight chuckled softly and shook her leather-clad tits around the short pegasus. "Breathing okay in there, hon? Or too much face full of wifey?"

The reply was muffled out of necessity, but Spitfire coughed a bit and replied, "No, ma'am, I'm okay, but, uh, what do you want us to do to finish up?"

"Finish being sweetie toys, of course!" Pinkie replied.

Spitfire blushed. "Should we -- I mean… Clothes…"

Flare blushed brighter, "I think what she means is-- how do you want us to propitiate you, mistresses?"

Pinkie and Twilight looked at each other, pondering in between their respective high and low sounds of delight, the tight cleavage pair still bound by clothes on each side and giving the two pegasi little room to maneuver. Eventually Twilight purred and said, "Beg, little sluts," with a deep growl that resonated through all three of her mares. Twilight explained, "Beg to be permitted to please us, still. Beg to be allowed to do anything but sink into unconsciousness-- Pinkie, pull Flare completely back into your cleavage. Because, you know, I think I'd like the sight of you chained up and sleeping at my feet… maybe locked up so that when you wake up to Pinkie eating me out, there's nothing you can do… unless you beg really, really pretty for your mistresses to spare you and let you be muffdivers."

Pinkie let out another happy squeal, the scent of her marehood's instant response to Twilight's dominance spreading from her soaked panties as she straightened up a bit and wrapped her hands over Flare's tight belly and slight A-cups, pulling the poofy-dressed mare back into the squishy, comfy embrace of her braless tits-- to the point where Flare's happy-panicked squeaks were just barely audible.

Twilight pushed her rack up and forward, pushing her bra over Spitfire's head and then down, resting the lush expanse of her boobs on Spitfire's shoulders. Twilight moved carefully but swiftly, trapping Spitfire in the heat and swatting her latex-clad rump. Looking back and forth, Twilight chuckled. "Wingboners on 'em both," she noted to Pinkie, then spanked Spitfire again. "I told you to beg, bitch," Twilight growled.

Pinkie goosed Flare, and then rubbed her other hand over Flare's belly. "Better start making pretty begs too, pretty sissy. We're in private enough that anyone who sees us play won't talk… but they'll know… of course, if your auntie Pinkie remembers right, little Flaresy likes it when others might find out she's a horny little toy, mm?"

Flare let out a trilling little pant and whimpered softly through Pinkie's plush prison, "Yes, mistress, I do, I'm such a horny little broodmare and it turns me on when people know and stare at how well I'm fucked over by big, strong doms," she said, licking at the cloth-clad tits around her and trying to inhale as best she could.

"But I want to serve you, please mistress, serve you and Mistress Twilight at your pussies and your feet. I want to eat you out and be your thrones, your plaything, please," she panted, gyrating her hips and bouncing the trapped bulge in her skirt. She gasped a bit as Pinkie playfully shook her breasts around Flare's head, making Flare half-whine, "I promise, mistress, I'll be a good slut and my wife is a bitch but she's yours and Mistress Twilight's, we're a good pair of sluts for bossmares like you, please let my wife and I be good toys not just ornaments…"

Spitfire had a bit more trouble speaking with Twilight's tautly tugged tits clasped over her face, but she managed. Twilight whinnied throughout the speeches, both subbie mares' honey tongues bringing her honey to fill her leather panties. "Ma'am, this slut is yours to dispose of, ma'am!" gasped Spitfire. "You are my mistress, and there is no one like you, my tongue is trained to pleasure, my hands are ways to worship your body, and my breath--" she choked a bit as the thought reminded her that her mistress really could cut off all oxygen completely with just a flex of her pecs, or pushing her melons together with her hands. The thought made her arousal spike further, her cunny gushing in the tight confines of the latex.

Her wing control was better than Flare's by far, partly because of Spitfire's time as a high-performance flier, and partly because she made sure to provoke Flare out of control all the time; Spitfire loved watching her delicate, prissy wife just lose control completely. As a result, Spitfire was able to use her wings to beg silently as she tried to breathe, then speak, then breathe again when speaking proved impossible. Eventually, she whispered, "Mistress, please, let this tiny bitch please your mighty body."

The two alicorns looked at each other and grinned. Twilight straightened up and let Spitfire out of the lavender squish, and Pinkie gently pushed Flare out of the t-shirt clad softness. "Good girls," Twilight cooed, and struck a pose, curling her arms into huge flexes around her tits and pumping her pecs.

Pinkie squealed and bounced, smacking her tits "accidentally into Flare and sending her stumbling into Spitfire's arms at the end of the leash's slack. Still bouncing, Pinkie clapped her hands for Twilight, saying, "It wouldn't be a party without people anyway so you've gotta be delicious little fucktoy sluts, not pretty little showpieces." Pinkie ceased her bounce and pinched Flare's rump again. "Even though you're so cute in your froofy dress… Still, gotta strip ya for the party…"

Breaking her pose, Twilight chuckled and shook her head. "No, Pinkie," she told the pouting alicorn. "We'll strip her down proper, or make her strip for us, when we're in the party room," Twilight said. "I'm not fucking in the hallway again and ending up with guards masturbating and needing to be 'punished,' the darn pervs. Again again." Friendship Castle was mostly automated magically, and strictly delimited by function. The private quarters required little maintenance, and those maids and maidstallions who came to clean were all consenting occasional lovers, as were the guards; those that weren't or weren't comfortable with it patrolled the rest of the castle, such as Starlight Glimmer's wing or the guest rooms.

A few more pouts from Pinkie only gained a stare of disapproval from Twilight, so the Alicorn of Laughter just giggled again and patted Flare's rump. "Ya, mush!"

"... What, mistress?" Flare asked, confused.

"Just go down the hall, love," Spitfire said with a sigh.

"Oh," Flare coughed, and obeyed. A few more doors down, there was a poster up that had the words "BY INVITATION ONLY" and a picture of … a chair with Pinkie's face drawn onto the seat.

"Subtle, Pinks," Twilight said with a laugh.

"Aww, but I was trying for blatantly showing how you were gonna cream all over my …"

"Yes, Pinkie," Twilight sighed. "The door, please, my little pussies?" she asked her pretties, who complied, Spitfire holding the door open and Flare bowing, indicating the door.

Pinkie giggled, and knelt as well. "Your party, Twi," she cooed, and took a moment to kiss one of Twilight's boots on the toe.

Twilight smiled. "Good pets. You spoil me rotten," she said, and strutted in, tugging Spitfire behind her.

"Spoil you sweet, mistress," Pinkie said, a little sadly, as Flare took the door to hold for her, and then rose to follow Twilight within.

Unsurprisingly, Pinkie had decked the place out with bright streamers, lots of food, and appropriately shaped inappropriate balloons. Most of the food was at tables to the side, but Twilight was unsurprised to see a pit (with transparent enchanted spill walls) in the center of the room, filled with what looked like strawberry jelly to just under knee height on Spitfire.

"Oh, sweetie," Twilight said with a laugh, "Do I want to know how you got the Castle to open up for a jelly wrestling pit?" She unclipped her leash from Spitfire's throat, and handed it to the pegasus. Spitfire saluted again and then trotted over to a hook on the wall.

Giggling and doing the same for Flare, Pinkie grinned cheerfully and said, "I think you kinda do but I wouldn't recommend it because the last time there was the splinching and then the wildebeests and I don't have nearly enough cupcakes."

Twilight considered this. Pinkie was probably right. Not everything was as benign as figuring out what Pinkie Sense was, thank you, Ms. We-Call-It-Herd-Sense-'Round-Here Applejack… Twilight shook her head and sighed. She kissed Pinkie and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to argue."

"Yay!" Pinkie exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. She then waved over at a lounging couch and an unusual looking chair. "New idea, threw it together last night. Now you can pick whether you want to ride Flare's face or little fillycock first!" Pinkie stroked Flare's bulge as the sissy blushed. She was actually fairly decently sized for a non-cadre pony, but all of her mistresses knew it made Flare happy to be called small. Twilight worried, occasionally, about how much Flare loved humiliation play, but Spitfire had learned how to judge teasing better at Dashie's hands before Twilight had even trained Spits, and Twilight trusted her ever since.

Twilight took a look at the set up. It was really two seats stacked on top of the other; the lower an adjustable, padded, full-body version of the reading pillow that Shy had used to support herself last night-- with the addition of some straps and cuffs to hold a subbie in place. Momma like, Twilight thought. Above was sort of like a reinforced lawn chair with most of the seat missing. Instead, there were long, broad straps stacked on top of the other that Twilight guessed could be used to increase or decrease the surface area holding up the rump and thighs. It did look a little uncomfortable, but… "What's that foam on the sides for, Pinkie?" she asked.

Pinkie giggled. "To help seat the face correctly! May I use Flaresy-Waresy as a demonstration?" Pinkie asked, bouncing again.

While Flare blushed and Spitfire smirked, Twilight merely gave a hungry smile. "Strip her first. Leave the corset on," Twilight decided, "But pull her oversized clit out. This is an anniversary present, and she should be prepared to cum her balls out." Twilight bit her lower lip a bit and leered. "In fact, what do you think, Spitfire? Should we make your fellow sub cum until her balls ache?" she growled.

Flare was now bright red, stunned, and panting, and didn't exactly fight it when Pinkie zipped over behind her and began to undo the clasps of her poofy dress. Spitfire smiled fondly. "Ma'am, this cunt's request is only that you don't break 'em, ma'am; my heat should be starting soon and it's time for Flare to be a good little breeder mare."

Pinkie paused as she pulled the dress off Flare's unresisting body, and she squealed. "Flare's going to be a mommy with you, Spits?" she asked gleefully. "Can I be auntie Pinkie?"

Spitfire bowed. While Flare mumbled, and Pinkie just held the dress halfway up over Flare's head, Spitfire said, "My wife and I would be honored, your highness."

"Auntie Pinkie!" corrected Pinkie.

"Pinkie who's going to get a desensitization spell slapped on her cooch if she doesn't finish getting Flare stripped and demonstrating for me," Twilight teased.

"Whoops!" Pinkie giggled, and finished pulling the dress free of Flare, gently levitating it to the side. Beneath, Flare was a curious mixture; her body still mostly masculine, having a stallion's general shape, and an elite guardsmare's muscle, but her various loving doms had done some work to get a softer broodmare appearance over that. Careful dieting and strictly monitored exercising had given Flare a rounded, mareish ass and hips, and the taut corset she wore when not on duty had both helped to reshape her abdomen and to emphasize an hourglass figure.

Though Flare didn't want complete physical reassignment, Twilight had decided that she needed tits, and had convinced Flare to accept Twilight's biomantic reconfiguration. Taut little A-cups, proud and perky with tiny nipples stood out on her pecs, supported by a shelf bra. Flare's body hair was kept strictly groomed, as were her wings and mane. If she had been allowed to keep her tuck enchantment, it would have been quite hard to tell she was not merely a muscular, fit warmare, but her sixteen inch dick was pressing out to the left of her groin behind and beside her frilly panties.

Pinke grabbed the rod and pumped it, her soft yet strong fist quickly sliding over the veiny length and rubbing in the first drips of precum. "So cute in those panties! Twi, may I leave all of her frillies on, and her shoes?"

Twilight looked at the pump in question, then at the shy, squirming Flare. Realizing she was a bit too overwhelmed to consent or not much, Twilight turned to Spitfire. "What do you think, sweetie? You're the one who may have to take her home messy if we 'forget' to clean her up," she teased.

"Ma'am? Mistress?" Spitfire said with an almost silly-dumb look on her face. "Are you implying that I wouldn't want to sit with her in a private car with her smelling of her spunk? And being forced to smell it? Or that she wouldn't like to have the reminder of how thoroughly she's been owned?"

Twilight laughed, her tits bobbing now as well, if not as much as Pinkie's bra-free wonders. "Fair enough." She grinned wickedly. "Blueball her, Pinkie," Twilight ordered, and nodded. "Then if she does a good job with your demonstration, footjob her." Twilight grabbed Spitfire by the collar and hauled Spitfire over. Twilight pointed at her feet and then undid the seal on her panties, opening the leather to reveal her juicy twat.

Hastened, horny, and delighted, Pinkie stopped jerking Flare off, and ran a finger over Flare's dick to collect all the lube available, then licked it off her finger with a long slurp. As Flare rutted her stiff shaft back and forth desperately in the air, whimpering and whining lustfully Pinkie grabbed Flare's flare between finger and thumb, and bounced off towards the throne apparatus, towing flare by her cock. "Comes with pre-made leash," Pinkie declared, and once again released Flare when they were done

"Oh, mistress," Flare said, her tongue lolling out and drooling slightly. "Please may I cum before I'm strapped down?"

Twilight, meanwhile, was having her sex worshiped by Spitfire's skillful tongue and fingers, the agile little pegasus exploring Twilight's muff with the eagerness of a first time conquest and the skill of a seasoned veteran. Her fingers reached up to go where her tongue wasn't, pressing to Twilight's throbbing clit, electric little flicks and circles to beg for more of Twilight's femmecum to splatter all over Spitfire's face. The other hand caressed Twilight's ass with soft squeezes, pleasuring strokes into the teardrop softness.

Twilight groaned, and squeezed her thighs together slightly, pinning Spitfire between them. Twilight smiled hazily over at Pinkie and Flare as they looked to her, and then made a thumbs down gesture. She smirked a bit. "Don't let her soften, either. Keep that pathetic rod bouncing," she nickered, grunting as she started to rock her hips back and forth over Spitfire's face, stopping her from being able to lap up her orgasmic fluid entirely, and instead marking Spitfire with her lube. As her sub. Her toy.

Flare whimpered, but more in pleasure at being denied than in discomfort at the denial. Pinkie gave a big, toothy smile,and continued to lead Flare over to the throne by her stiffness, periodically squeezing just a bit too hard, or dragging her nails against the side, nothing that would ever damage the well-loved fucktoy, but enough to keep the sensation overwhelmingly variant. "It's too bad it would endanger you to put piercings in. Your silly weenie would look so pretty with some jewels and loops to beautify it!" Pinkie said happily, and pointed down at the lower "seat". "On your back now, pretty filly," Pinkie cooed, "And keep your hands on the armrests. No naughty touchies until Auntie Pinkie says!"

Blushing and squirming, Flare obeyed, kneeling as gracefully as she could and then rolling onto her back, arms and legs positioned for restraint. "Yes, mistress, sorry I'm a naughty filly, mistress," Flare said, each word half a moan. She'd missed this, the alternating sternness and loving-- and silliness, in Pinkie's case. The feeling of having her whole world completely at the mercy of badass alicorns, and being loved by them and her wife as well. Flare wondered if Pinkie and the others-- perhaps Mistress Rainbow?-- would be willing to dom them for anniversaries while Mistress Twilight was away.

Pinkie knelt down and stuck her tongue out with a goofy grin at Flare. She strapped Flare's ankles down, and then leaned over to give the fat girlflare tip a lick, blowing cold air onto the saliva before casually bringing her knee up between Flare's legs. She didn't quite knee Flare in the balls, but instead slowly leaned her weight forward so Flare would feel nice and trapped. "Mm. You're a tasty little cockfilly, aren't you?" Pinkie giggled, and then strapped down Flare's wrists. "Do I need to strap your neck down, too, or will you be a good slavey-wavey?"

Flare moaned, trying to keep her groin still beneath Pinkie's "threatening" weight and not succeeding entirely. She squirmed and humped against the hard knee, and Pinkie increased the pressure slightly until Flare whimpered, "I'll be good, mistress Pinkie. I'll only use my mouth and body for the whims of my mistresses, I swear."

Pinkie clapped her hands. "You're such a good party favor, yes you are!" She bounced a bit, letting up some of the weight from Flare's groin but not entirely. She reached up and into her shirt, digging around in the cleavage. She pulled out a little egg-shaped device with a small, collar-like strap and a circular display made of various colors of crystal. Pinkie strapped it tight as a cockring around Flare's base, nestling the egg in between Flare's nuts. "Let's see… vibrate how long and how often… mmm… I know, random!" Pinkie said gleefully, and Flare swallowed heavily as Pinkie took her leg from between Flare's and set the egg to buzzing, randomized lengths that stopped poor Flare from ever really getting relief or satisfaction.

Next, Pinkie gently adjusted the throne and rest so that the throne was a little higher, and Flare's face held with her neck supported. "Such a pretty little throne. Twilight has the best toys-- including me!" Pinkie said with a happy laugh, shaking her rump and tail in Twilight's direction. She showed what the foam was for, pressing it in around the sides of Flare's head and face. "Keeps our little pussy-worshipper supported aaaand holds up the junk in our trunks!" Pinkie declared, spanking her own cutie mark and wincing a bit-- sometimes she forgot her own strength, but only with herself, generally.

Twilight laughed softly, though it quickly turned into a panting, shuddering moan. "Oh, that's GOOD, Spits, just like that, baby!" Twilight groaned, squatting and flexing her thighs to compress and "hug" the little pegasus with her massive muscles. "Keep your tongue on my fucking G-spot, I'm going to… I'm going to… FUCK!" groaned Twilight, and she came, a drooling, winking, squealing orgasm. Twilight refused to let Spitfire do anything but keep her muzzle at Twilight's muff, her tongue deep inside, until her climax finished.

"Oooh. I like that set up, Pinkie," Twilight said as she stood up straight and moved a little back from the dazed Spitfire. The tough-minded general was just sitting with her hands fallen down at her sides, panting and licking the air as she was overwhelmed by the force of Twilight's climax. Twilight giggled a bit, and gently pushed Spitfire down to the ground with her foot, using her TK to make sure her sub's wings were positioned carefully.

Spitfire groaned a bit, incoherent, and Twilight walked around her, pushing her thighs open with the same foot. Then as Spitfire whispered, "Mistress?" Twilight pressed the toe of her boot down on the latex wrapping Spitfire's cunt.

"Pinkie, start riding Flare's face," Twilight commanded, ignoring Spitfire for the moment. "She can't see what I'm doing to Spitfire, so give her something to do. A way to earn your feet getting her off."

Pinkie saluted, her tits bouncing everywhere, and rapidly began to shuck her jeans and panties (balloons and teddy bear faces) so she could sit, leaning forward so her vulva were positioned just over Flare's muzzle, and caught Flare's dick with her feet. She squeezed slowly, teasing the flare, and then dragged her feet down to start pressing Flare's balls against the egg vibrator. "Start lickin' for my fillin', sweetie!" Pinkie said, and then let out a series of oohs as Flare began to obey.

"Good," Twilight said, and then smiled down at Spitfire. "Are you my bitch, pegasus?" she purred.

"Mistress, this pegasus is your bitch at your will, mistress!" Spitfire groaned, adding, "This pegasus is your bitch whenever you deign to permit me to agree!"

Twilight licked her lips. "Then why aren't you humping my boot like a good little bitch?" Twilight asked.

Spitfire groaned and began to roll her hips, then stopped. Twilight quirked her eyes, but, dazed, horny, and under the influence of alicorn quim and cum, Spitfire still managed to hold herself, whimpering, "Mistress, your bitch has not been ordered to hump, and is an unworthy cunt who does not deserve the honor!"

Twilight squealed happily, and began to gently rub her boot against Spitfire's slit. "Do it. Show me what an attentive bitch you are while I watch Pinkie fuck your wife's face." She grinned indulgently and added, "You can cum as much as you can manage, my dear Spits."

Chapter 4 - Pie for a Twi, Pussy for a Pinkie, Part II

Obedience was prompt. Twilight smirked as Spitfire began to both grind her latex-bound groin over Twilight's high-heeled boot, and to let out hot, pleasured little cries. "Mmm. And with that nice, stretchy suit on you, you can't even worry about mussing my boots, my little squirter, can you," Twilight said fondly. "I think of everything."

Spitfire wailed. "M-m-mistress, yes! Yes, always!" Twilight slowly sucked her lower lip under her teeth, chewing lightly on it. Seeing Spitfire-- or any of the tougher military types-- like this always made her so fucking hot. She rotated the toe of her boot carefully against the increasingly squishing, lube-filled crotch of Spitfire's lavender uniform, her eyes lidding with lust and no small amount of affection. Yes, that's it, dear Spits. Let it go. Be mine again, and just let yourself go into the fantasy I'm making for you.

As far as Twilight was concerned, climaxing subbies were completed assignments; seeing them spin out of their own control and into hers? Extra. Fucking. Credit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Pinkie squirm and squeal all over Flare's eager face. She doubted Spitfire had let Flare slack in her cunilingus homework, so that was alright. Flare's cute little marecock was already starting to splurt precum everywhere, but by Pinkie's happy-- and happier-- squeals, she was pretty sure Flare was earning those splurts, to to mention the insane orgasm that Pinkie's talented, supple toes tended to give dicks that were surrendered to her care-- and that would be without the randomizer vibrator stuck to the bound pegasus' cockbase.

All was right in Twilight's world. One submissive eating another out, and getting her teased dick jerked off for her troubles. Another subbie was squirming and creaming beneath Twilight's boot, the submissive's yellow hide blushing orange and her pupils dilating as all of that adorable discipline and hardness was shed, leaving just a well-fucked slut. Twilight's own needy snatch was drooling onto and around her leather panties, but she could wait. She'd been promised a throne and a show, after all.

She pushed her fingers up into the flaps of leather concealing her aching nipples. The flaps were already well away from the rest of her well-crafted bra, the tenting nubs having poked themselves forward. She squeezed and caressed her fingers in each dark, warm cup, pinching the sensitive skin and then releasing, trailing her strong fingers back and forth across the very edges of her nipples. She might be content to wait to get her clit off, but that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun while waiting.

Beneath her boot and under her spell, Spitfire, wings a stiff and uncontrollable as a newbie's, was working herself into a frenzy. "Oo. My little Spits is taking pretty big advantage of my orders, isn't she?" Twilight cooed, giggling. "Trying to race your little wifey for most volume produced before Pinkie makes that pretty prick pop seed all over the place?" As Spitfire whimpered pathetically and started to slow down her gyrating surrender to Twilight's dominance, Twilight growled, and began to circle the toe of her boot faster on the general's sex, taking special care to catch and stimulate her clit. Her eyes widened, and her lips curled back.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare slow. I want you cumming and I gave the word. So keep. On. Humping!" She had no intention of letting up until Pinkie and Flare were done, and it was time for the jelly wrestling. A little unfair for Spitfire's chances, perhaps, but she'd never had much chance against Pinkie; this way at least she'd be less self-critical and find more ways to enjoy Pinkie forcing her into submission. And fucking her into submission. Flare wasn't going to be the only pegasus collapsing from sheer pleasure before the morning was done. Twilight would see to that, too.

As always, even if Spitfire's self-control was lost, she was at the mercy of Twilight's commands. She pushed her arms back hard against the floor, her taut, fencer's muscles pressing against the latex, their definition a feeble imitation of Twilight's superior strength. Twilight grinned. "That's it. Good filly." She licked her lips and decided to put on a show for the little mare. Twilight extended her arm forward and down a bit towards Spitfire, palm up as though offering a hand. She shook her head at the panting pegasus' confused, horny look.

While still rubbing her boot over Spitfire's tight-clad cunt and throbbing clit, Twilight began to curl. First her fingers, but as the leather-clad hand rolled into a meaty fist, she began to raise her forearm, then her upper arm as well. The tight leather creaked as the huge cables of her forearm pushed against the material and its spelled stretchability but that was nothing, nothing at all compared to the mighty peak of Twilight's bicep. She grinned fiercely down at Spitfire as the lovely little pegasus continued, nay, sped up her desperate humping at Twilight's boot, drool running down both sides of the flame-maned mare's cheeks.

Twilight clenched her fist, hard, and her beautiful sixty-inch bicep swelled up to its maximum extension, tight and hard and gigantic. Spitfire's prior orgasms were blown away in the wake of a screaming, squealing, giggling-- Wait. Giggling? As Spitfire rutted her hips helplessly at Twilight's boot, Twilight turned towards Pinkie and flare, arching an eyebrow.

Pinkie was, in fact, giggling like a madmare, squealing and creaming-- presumably squirting, given Pinkie-- all over Flare's face, feet expertly rubbing Flare's twitching, lube-covered mareshaft. Her blue eyes, however, were fixed on Twilight's lavender muscles, and as Twilight gave an experimental extension-flexion pair, pumping out and in to bulge the dangerous peak, Pinkie gave a renewed joyful climax. As she did so, Flare came as well, and of course, this being Pinkie, a quick flick of Pinkie's toes sent the ejaculate flying up into the air for Pinkie to swallow rope after rope in between her ecstatic laughter and body-jiggling squeals of release.

Twilight held the pose until the last of Flare's orgasm completed, and then-- to Pinkie's pouting and Spitfire's whine-- she relaxed her arm and pulled her boot from Spitfire's crotch. She was extremely pleased to both see Spitfire briefly try to follow the motion of her foot, and that the well-trained submissive forced herself not to follow, not to presume.

Twilight knew she wasn't anywhere near Celestia or Luna's skills with building up a good sub, but she did learn quickly, herself. In all manner of wondrous fields.

She smiled, and made a come-hither gesture at both Pinkie and Spitfire. Poor Flare. Twilight disposed of Pinkie's clothes and Spits' "uniform" in a single pulse of magenta magic, and wrapped her lovingly entrapping arms around both mares when they got close, squeezing them between pillow and prison, between the lush comfort of her massive breasts and the hard power of her limbs. She walked over towards the still groaning Flare. "Such good sweeties. Pinkie, no magic, and no Pinkieisms," she ordered, rubbing a leather-clad finger onto the pouting alicorn's enormous left nipple, turning her pout into a series of fevered pants.

Spitfire, of course, wasn't quite high enough for that on Twilight, though the giant expanse of her knockers made it easy enough for her to keep Spitfire in the softness. Instead her arm was gently around the Wonderbolt's collared neck, and she tapped Spitfire's nose. "Sorry, sweetie, but no flight for you. I want my pretty sluts all covered in jelly." Twilight licked her lips with a hunger quite separate from the . "Loser licks it off the winner before the winner goes under my snatch, though,"

She let both of her mares go at that point, slapped her broad hands over her far broader rump cheeks, and pointed with each index finger towards its respective cheek. "On the cutie marks, girls, then get me open for Flare. Flare, honey, you still doing okay down there? Safe gesture is muzzle closed twice against my pussy, as usual."

While Pinkie got on her knees and joined Spitfire in lustfully kissing Twilight's starbursts, Flare hoarsely called back, "D-doing f-fine, mistress," her soft voice throaty with the effects of Pinkie's alicorn pheremones. Not that Flare needed those to be kept good and hard in a situation like that, but Twilight figured that the vesicles behind Flare's juicy marenuts were getting nice and plump quick again as a result. It was always so nice to be able to give instant feedback.

While the pair at her rump hastily undid the flaps to reveal the drenched folds of her ready sex, she levitated some nearby water over. Voice stern, she held the liquid close to flare. "Flex your pretty fillycock when you're ready to drink. I want you hydrated. We'll get you some punch when you're done, because you're going to be fucking the loser's bu-Eeep! Girls!"

Speaking of alicorn pheremones, Twilight's were a lot stronger. As she carefully poured water down into Flare's throat, she telekinetically whallopped Pinkie and Spitfire's juicy and tight (respectively) hind ends. Those two should have better discipline than to succumb to my musk that quick! They'd spent too long kissing her lovely, fat booty, and been too close to her femmecum-spewing cunt, and been ensnared. Or Spitifire had been. Twilight gave Pinkie another spank, despite-- or perhaps because-- knowing that Pinkie loved having her junky trunk slapped. She has no excuse, Twilight decided.

"You two know you can't just decide to share without asking me first. And the answer is no. I want to see my pretties wrestle," Her rich voice chuckled. "Besides, it's Flare's turn, you greedy wenches. My greedy wenches," she said proudly, and sent them on their way to opposite ends of the jelly pit.

Leaning over the edge of the throne to adjust it up, Twilight deliberately took an awkward stance, pushing the armrest into her taut cleavage, the better to fill the opened space with her giant teat. "Missed you, honey. Suckle in for momma, there's a good filly," she nickered at Flare, gasping as the eager sissy wrapped her muzzle around Twilight's huge nub and tugged with enough skillful lip and tongue that Twilight debated rewarding her by triggering a lactation spell. At the last second she decided not to keep the others waiting, even if she figured they were staring straight at her plot.

She raised her body slowly, and looked backwards with a smirk over one broad shoulder. Yep, both drooling.

Turning back to Flare, she stroked her pretty little sub's face "Ready to go back under, honey? I know you used to be quite the sweet little seat, but it's been a year since you've had to take alicorn cunt to the face regularly."

Flare nuzzled her muzzle adoringly into Twilight's palm. "Mistress," she said, voice breathy. "Mistress, I yearn to serve your sweet pussy as best my slutty tongue may!"

Giggling, Twilight patted Flare's cheek one more time. "There's a good throne," she cooed, and stood up straight. The massive alicorn amazon strutted over to the front of the seat and stretched her long, boot-clad legs out, flexing the titanic muscles as she straddled her feet to either side of Flare's legs. She took her time, bending down in a sinuous, slow curl with her plump, powerful rear jiggling, her mane falling wildly about. She undid the boots, taking her time to get everything just right.

"Time for some starfield practice, Flare," she sang out, giggling, and planted her pussy down in the curve of the foam supports, helping Flare reach her already dripping slit while she seized Flare's sensitized, pre-oozing shaft with her feet. Casually, she wriggled her dewy lips around over Flare's face, drenching the desperately muff-diving sub's nose in a fresh wave of Twilight's more powerful pheremones.

Lips curving into a smile, she tapped her big right toe down over the cumslit of Flare's marecock, pushing down teasingly to cap it while she started to curl her other size twenty-two and a half foot around the base, jerking her off with expert agility. As Flare whined and gasped in the dark, heavenly confines of the barely sufficiently ventilated rest, her wriggling tongue fluttering up into Twilight's snatch and tasting the alicorn's lovely lubricants, Twilight lowered her free foot down and circled Flare's balls, cupping the juicy nuts affectionately, then moving back to swiftly stroking the throbbing shaft. She gave the wrestlers a regal nod. "Begin, ladies. Three falls; each climax is a 'fall.'"

[br]

The two mares had come together in a splashing, sticking, sweet mess, and she loved every moment of it-- of their passionate, blinding-fast movements and hammerblow strikes. Twilight brought one of her fingers up to her lips to chew hungrily on it, slowly rubbing and grinding her fat lips against Flare's eager tongue. Twilight's heavily curved hips squirmed as the pleasure of Flare's submissive licking stroked over her dewy lips and spread out from there, her mighty quads tensing and shaking.

Flare's pretty maredick tried to splooge precum up, but Twilight, gasping and grunting and making little sucking sounds over her finger, was merciless with her pleasure sissy, her big toe keeping the pressure on Flare's cumslit, letting only small drops of lubricant out for her to further tease the broad, sensitive crown, squishily rubbing it in so none of it left Flare's flare to drip down her thick meat.

Twilight let Flare's thick fillyprick throb helplessly in the warm air, scooping her other huge foot down to possessively but amazingly gently grind over Flare's swollen sack. She felt Flare whimper, kiss the pressing cheeks of her fat, curvy ass and lick at her gigantic, steel-crushing quads before going back to prenching deep into her pussy. Flare was quite talented with that sweet little prehensile upper lip, too; she was very happy that Spits hadn't let Flare slack on her pussy-worshiping duties. Life-long learning and all that.

Meanwhile, the fight was not, as one might expect, all going Pinkie's way. For all Pinkie's massive strength and reach advantage, and Spitfire's being forced out of her element and into Pinkie's (earth and jelly alike), Spitfire's vast combat experience, especially in a world that was usually bigger than her anyway, was coming to her aid.

Twilight lazily reached up to one of her mountainous leather-clad hooters, squeezing hard into the soft, juicy flesh of the U-cup lushness as she tongued her own fingertip-- Spitfire had just managed quite the daring roll to get -- not between Pinkie's plush, powerful thighs, that would be foolish-- behind Pinkie and wrap her sticky, jelly-covered body like a limpet around one of those thighs. From below, the hot-blooded pegasus was alternately slapping and caressing Pinkie's mouth-wateringly gorgeous rump with her well-trained wings, teasing the sensitive alicorn tushie with a barrage of stimulation.

I need to remember to try that with Luna. Knowing her, though, she's had it tried before-- and then I get countered. Eee!

Licking and sucking lewdly on her finger, Twilight let out a long gasp, covering Flare's face in a fresh wave of her femmejuices. The intensely hot battle-skill of Spitfire, Pinkie's half-ridiculous, half-oddly compelling jiggling, jumping, splattering attempts to dislodge the tiny pegasus-- well, add that to Flare's desperate, horny attempts to please Twilight's demanding clit and greedy cunt, and knowing, just knowing that her sweet little slut was trapped into being her throne…

She didn't bother holding back. Bare moments after Flare was covered in Twilight's lubricant, Twilight came all over her dear sissy's face, releasing her finger and letting out a long, roar-squeal of pleasure that sent her huge titties bouncing and her gigantic muscles tensing. The snarl startled both combatants-- but Spitfire recovered while Pinkie was still going "Oooo, pretty!" and risked wrapping one of her wings around in front to tickle Pinkie's big, stretched clittie, flickering her feather tips into the lushly curved alicorn's fat pussy, just a little.

Twilight squeezed the armrests of the seat, casually making the enchanted material groan in protest as her forearms bulged dangerously. She panted and shuddered, squealing with delight as Flare obediently kept eating her out. Pinkie, having been surprised by Spitfire, sank to her knees not too long thereafter, sending splatters of the jam everywhere, and joined Twilight in a chorus of climactic cries of pleasure. In between giggles, of course.

Spitfire leapt clear, though her yellow ass was covered in the rich raspberry jelly. deep purple splatters along her wings. She scampered to the far end of the pool, letting Pinkie enjoy the climax-- it was only fair!-- and paused, her chest heaving and her perky little B-cups jogging up and down, nipples almost achingly hard.

Twilight clapped her hands and squealed enthusiastically "Good job, Spits!" Twilight carefully bounced her rump on Flare's face. She'd never let anything hurt her sweet little subbymare, and indeed, in celebration, pulled her giantess feet off Flare's cock, and quickly tilted the spasming dick outwards. While poor Flare's fillydick couldn't possibly reach her wife, Twilight's lusty jerking of the fat prick to send white, ropy strands spraying with abandon in Spitfire's direction was a clear sign of her pleasure with both well-trained pegasluts.

Pinkie let out a last, wailing cry of her own pleasure, and abruptly bounced to her feet. "Eee, that wasn't fair, Spitsy!" She shook her finger over at Spitfire, grinning all the time. "Can't fly but can use wings, I gotta remember these aren't just for tick… ling. Oopsie!"

Spitfire blushed brightly and bowed. "Yes, your highness."

"It's Pinkie in the ring. Or tub, in this case, dear." With a wicked wink, Pinkie added, "Or, you know, Auntie Pinkie if you just want to submit early."

"MMmmff… Pinkie!" Twilight was having a little bit of a problem with glaring. Flare's tonguework was excellent as always, stroking along her juicy inner folds and caressing Twilight's favorite little pleasure points with such skill that it was like she'd never let Flare out from under her muff in the first place, let alone spent a year away. Add that to her dear little frilly maid-slut's usual response to incentivisation-- that is to say, Flare was still good at stubbornly turning her own pleasure into ardent fuel at better eating out her mistress' snatch-- from having Twilight's big twenty two and a half feet squeezing and fondling her own cum and lube back into her throbbing fillytool… Well! She certainly knows how to turn my frown upside down…

Spitfire grinned sheepishly at Pinkie. "Sorry, ma'am, er, Pinkie, but no. This bitch is the mistress' bitch, and the mistress wants a show."

Laughing outrageously, Pinkie nodded. "Fair, fair." As she walked back over to the other side of the extended wrestling tub, Pinkie rubbed her palm over her stimulated ass and purred, "And I'm going to be fair to you and give that naughty little quim of yours a good climax, too!" She turned around and used her awe inspiringly long tongue, longer even that Flutters' Flutterbat inheritance, to slurp and clean off her broad hand and jiggly-strong forearm. "I like puppet play time!"

Spitfire swallowed heavily, partly out of the reminder of the fact that she was facing a divine alicorn in a match, no matter how lewdly sexual, and partially from just the sheer implications of Pinkie's powerful fisting. As Twilight and later Dashie's personal stableslut for a long period, she'd been given into Pinkie's hands, and onto Pinkie's hands, on more than one occasion.

As a result, when Twilight chopped her meaty hand down in the air to open the next round, still panting and squirming as Flare lovingly tweaked and circled her clit with that lovely prehensile upper lip, the two squared off seriously. Twilight leaned back on her throne, and her throne's face, planting her left elbow onto its armrest, lifting her flat palm to her chin to watch. This is the life. I'm going to miss being able to regularly get my twat tongue-cleaned while watching good old fashioned sex wrestling.

If this was to be her last fuck night "fight," then at least her sweeties were making it a good one. Pinkie was using her wings now, spreading them out wide and "tapping" hard to either side to prevent a second roll and duck around maneuver from Spitfire. For that matter, the pink alicorn was taking the whole thing more seriously, and Twilight purred appreciatively from more than just Flare's eager muff-kissing.

Of course, if I'm really lucky, Applejack will challenge me like the good little bitch my honest sweetie is… Maybe not the last before I have to go!

Pinkie was in a wide, crouching stance that showed off her musculature to gorgeous advantage. Usually, the happy-go-lucky Princess of Laughter was simply too well-padded, too lushly curved for her strong limbs to show the hypertrophic power beneath. That it was there, few were foolish enough to doubt. But now? Now, Pinkie's squeezable thighs revealed massive, thick-slabbed quadriceps, her angled calves balling up deliciously. Her beefy arms were showing those sweet biceps now, too, her elbows crooked with her forearms up (and bulging too!), ready to snatch, and catch, and fist, as promised.

That promise to fist was Spitfire's current major advantage. The agile pegasus was trying to get around Pinkie and somehow sweep her off her feet, whereas Pinkie was all a-jiggle with the desire to get her hefty fist stretching out Spitfire's lovely orange-haired muff-- and to do so without having a fall called, and Spitfire free to wriggle out and try again from the other side of the room. Twice that Twilight could tell-- it might have been more, but at least twice of its own, Flare's cunnilingus brought Twilight to such a hard climax that she didn't just squirt her femmecum all over the trapped slut's face, but she had problems seeing-- Spitfire was almost able to catch one of Pinkie's grabby hands and use the momentum on the bigger wrestler's lunge to send her flying.

Almost. That was the key word, and Twilight scooted forward, brushing her still-squirting quim over Flare's obedient, soft muzzle, watching as Spitfire got overconfident, and tried to knee strike into Pinkie's left thigh, at just the wrong time-- or right, from Pinkie's perspective. The seven foot six alicorn's hand swooped down in a blinding rush and grabbed that knee-- grabbed it and forced Spitfire into a vertical split!

Pinkie licked her lips, nostrils flaring. "Spitsy! I can sme-e-ell your cute little cunny, it's all drizzly!" She raised three fingers. "Bet I can stuff ya with this before I even really get going. But you ca~an just call me Auntie Pinkie like a good little slut, and I'll take that too!"

"Never!" Spitfire declared, and tried to swing a kick up with her other foot, figuring her balance was good enough, sticky, jelly covered wings or not, to take a chance at a roll, rather than at Pinkie's skilled hands. Pinkie, however, was waiting for that, and held Spitfire's foot in place with her own.

"Nuuuuh-uh. You're going to squeal for Auntie Pinkie like a good slutty, one way or another!" Pinkie dove the three fingers in question right down at Spitfire's-- indeed already drooling-- snatch, deftly sliding them inside with a single twist of the wrist. Twilight licked her lips and spread her thighs a bit, shifting the squishy droop of her bubbly rump to better position over Flare's face.

Flare's such a good girl. Gets her tongue right in my rump without having to be told. Nonetheless, Twilight energized her horn to fill Flare's lungs with magic. As long as her ass was in place, Flare would always have enough air. She would never forgive herself if she hurt even a normal guard, let alone one of her precious sweeties. As Flare's tongue obediently plowed into her mistress' anus, Twilight cooed to herself, fingering the fat bumps of her huge nipples, watching the display before her.

For all Spitfire's speed and skill, she had been caught, well and good by Pinkie. Twilight's leering eyes widened with hungry arousal as she saw the broadening bulge in the poor pegasus' trapped snatch-- Pinkie had conquered that poor cunt with her broad fist, and was wasn't settling for anything less than a full forearm fit! Pleased, Twilight shifted her right fingers down to stroke and pet her stiff, well-licked clitty, each tweak sending fresh waves of pleasure to join the constant thrill of her powerful glutes as they constricted around Flare's surrendered tongue.

Spitfire was in delicious trouble now. Her yellow-hided cheeks had flared far past orange and were bright red now. Twilight let out a long moan as she saw the panting start on Spits' lips, as Flare's desperate tongue worked her hard, and slipped her fingers from her clit to her muff. "Get her G, Pinkie! I want to squirt together with her!"

Pinkie stood up straight, gigantic, globular melons all a-jiggle, and saluted-- with the arm holding Spitfire! The shocked subby slid further and further down, her poor, ravished twat stretched out wide on the goofy alicorn's huge forearm, the tight, greedy cunt lips pushing back at Pinkie's cushy layers of fat and revealing the powerful bulge of muscle below. Pinkie casually grabbed Spitfire's wrists, first the left, then the right, with her free hand, and Twilight supposed she could have called it a fall then and there.

But with her butthole being lovingly prenched by one sweet sub, her tingling pussy looking to squirt, and Spitfire certainly looking like she wasn't about to do anything but enjoy her elongated "fall," Twilight felt no real need to. She lifted her chin and gestured regally towards them with her muzzle. "Get… unf. Get on with it, Pinkie! When she pops off your hand, I want her gushing!"

"Yes ma'am-a-ramma!" Pinkie said gleefully, and Twilight groaned, squeezing her taut glutes over Flare's face as she saw Spitfire's taut little tummy bulge and shift as Pinkie ably played with her most secret, most sensitive spot, the wet pegasus pussy clenching and gripping at the alicorn's arm helplessly, Spitfire herself drifting away from conscious thoughts and simply wailing in constant near-climax.

She wasn't getting there though. Not all the way. No, she was in the Party Princess' hands, now, and when the Party Princess was ordered to give her well-favored soldier slut a squirting climax, then no amount of horny pegasus humping over Pinkie's buff fist and forearm was going to get her over before she got the orgasm of her life! Twilight growled, her fingers pushing as deep as she could angle, the twin work of their expert questing and Flare's mistressy of the art of analingus steadily bringing her up to the same point.

Bucking and mewling, Spitfire, reduced from proud warrior to quivering fist-slut wailed Pinkie's name. Not Auntie Pinkie, but close enough for the proud princess, it seemed. With an elaborate bow that wouldn't have been out of place for Trixie, Pinkie genuflected towards her mistress, and pulled Spitfire off her arm with a lewd pop!

Before poor, abused Spitfire could "pay" for the "crime" of getting Pinkie off earlier than she'd intended, Pinkie flung her around like a stuffed toy, and buried Spitfire's wings against her outrageously pillowy breasts. She wrapped Spitfire's legs around the poor subbie's own shoulders from the front, and, horn glowing blue, tapped Spitfire's cunt and held the pleasure suspended. Not negated, not reduced, but building off, unable to release or relieve in either way. She looked worshipfully at Twilight. "Command her, please, mistress. She's yours. We all are."

Snarling, her own orgasm inches away, Twilight's horny pussy seemed to be doing the talking as much as she was. "Cum!" came the booming order, and cumming is what Spitfire did. Released from Pinkie's mean spell, she spasmed, her hips jutting as far forward as they could in Pinkie's full body lock. Laughing, Twilight came in a spray at the same time. Moving her feet to the side to press down, she aimed so that together, the two gushing squirters met and, as though Pinkie had designed it, their female ejaculate hit in the air and fell on Flare's throbbing, trapped cock!

Unable to refrain from joining in, the sissy climaxed too, her covered shaft splurting and spraying wildly, but even those thick, ropy globs couldn't outdo the production of pegasus and princess, and the femmejuice wave from the pair forcing Flare's cum back down onto her pitiful, fully owned and footjobbed prick. As Twilight's climax fell, she flashed the power of her horn again, pushing Flare down a bit with her telekinesis and tenderly washing out the trapped submissive's mouth-- just so she could kiss and lick at the marejuices that had just helped to humiliate her fillydick's climax just moments ago.

Growling a bit herself, Pinkie lowered the still weakly spasming Spitfire down between her thighs. "You are going to call me Auntie Pinkie, sweetie! You might as well just do it, because Pies don't quit, even for cutie creampie holders like you!"

Before Pinkie could start to scissor the weakened Spitifire, Twilight shook her head and a condemning finger. Though her pussy was warmly adored by Flare's lip and tongue, Twilight had a match to organize fairly, so she ordered an end. "No, Pinkie. Help the sweetie back up on her feet and then get back-- mmm-- to your corners. You have to win poorly, or you'll just be warming Flare's mareprick for me by default," she warned.

Faced with a … not at all terrible, actually, save by what she'd be missing, threat as that, Pinkie carefully helped Spitfire back to her feet, the massive pink alicorn only pausing to mischievously rub Spitfire's face into her cushy belly fat before setting the pegasus free. The smaller mare gave a dizzy salute to their mistress, and staggered back over to her corner. Twilight groaned, her taut thighs flexing and the long cables of her quads bulging out as she fed Flare's eager mouth more of her arousal,

She cuddled Flare's swiftly re-filling nuts on the top of her twenty-two point five left foot, and used her right toes to point the bobbing, fat maredick at Spitfire. "Oh, sweetie?" she purred, an idea coming to mind. "I'll enchant Flare to get rid of the refractory period-- whether it's you or Pinkie being her sleeve for me-- if you agree to make this a submission-or-climax-only round."

Obviously realizing what her fate was likely to be, Spitfire gulped heavily, and looked over to where Pinkie was giving her own little flex, bulging out her big forty inch bicep on the left arm and turning her head, poofy-curly mane bouncing, to give little licks and giggles at the hardness rising out of her usually soft and slightly flabby appearance. She kept releasing and regripping her fist, making the huge peak bobble and wobble; typical Pinkie Pie silliness. Spitfire shrugged and saluted Twilight. "Ess or cee it is, m-ma'am!"

I have such good, thoughtful pony-sluts, Twilight thought happily. Beneath, Flare reminded her that she indeed had three thoughtful muff-worshipers, with a long flutter of Flare's tongue caressing Twilight's well-licked fucktunnel. She nodded, and gestured towards the jelly pit. "Begin!"

The conclusion may have been foregone at this point, but Pinkie played with her flush-faced "victim" the whole time. Jiggling and wobbling her wading way through the disrupted thixotropic gel, spreading the raspberry sweetness in her wake, Pinkie circled around the confused former wonderbolt. It was an odd circle, not a predator's equidistant prowl, but leaving Spitfire standing near the upper fourth of the resultant circle.

Then, suddenly, the juicy, lush alicorn leapt, her mega-mams bobbling everywhere as she landed facing Spitfire-- but almost directly across the circle? Before either Spitfire could react or Twilight could pause in cumming on Flare's muzzle to object to this nonsense, Pinkie jumped again, this time a little bit closer to to Twilight instead. She then ran in a long curve, following the inside line of the circle, but not touching it. At last, Pinkie stopped, about the same distance from Spitfire as from her original jumping destination.

She loomed over the pegasus, suddenly taut, defined arms, musculature bulging, over her head, fingers outstretched into claws. Her wings were tight against her curvy back, and her absolutely drool-demanding ass was pushed up by the sudden flex of her long, shapely legs, the curvy fat pushed aside by the mighty bulk of her quads and calves. "Rawr!"

Twilight glowered. "Pinkie, stop making smiley faces in the jelly and wrestle for my amusement!" Wait, did that make things weirder or what?

Stumbling back, Spitfire almost fell. Twilight could see that Pinkie's fisting had left poor Spits rather dazed, a far more overwhelming climax than Spitfire's lucky twat-tickle had done for Pinkie. As a result, when Pinkie rotated her head completely around to stick her tongue out at Twilight (without adjusting anything else of her Scary Stance) and Spitfire took her shot at the distracted Alicorn, the results were less tactical, less impressive, and less effective than her first assault.

Whereas her initial well-timed strike had depended on using superior agility and speed to keep the goofy princess off balance, this time, General Spitfire of the Aerial High Command took the… unusual… option of ramming straight forward at high speed, or at least as high of a speed as her orgasm-exhausted legs could manage through the jelly.

Smack! Spitfire managed a fair enough head of speed-- enough so that when Pinkie turned her head back around with a giggled, "Ooooh!" she couldn't actually see the pegasus-- except for Spitfire's yellow wings, flapping uselessly. Spitfire had managed to bury herself face-first in Pinkie's gloriously soft, squeezable, gigantic V-cup titties. In fact, she'd gone so far as to reach all the way to the end of the embracing cleavage-- and right into the squishable prison of Pinkie's warm, roly-poly belly.

Groaning with intense pleasure, Pinkie gasped. "Sorry, mistress! Spitsy decided to go for trying to get me off again!" Twilight gave a purr of pleasure, rocking her hips back and forth in time with Flare's desperately obedient tonguing, the twitching wet length lovingly adoring Twilight's pussy walls. But as Twilight and Pinkie both knew, their big, juicy alicorn breasts were as sensitive as their labia; Spitfire's "tactic" might have had a chance of working.

Except that this was Pinkie, and Spitfire was in "hugging" range. With her back still to Twilight, Pinkie abruptly curled up both arms over her head, elbows facing away from Twilight, cupping her thick fingers and thumbs towards the ceiling. Twilight reached into the subbie slot of the throne and began to vigorously rub her long fingers over her clit; this was the good part. Tongue trapped deep in her mistress' gushing slit, Flare took a deep nasal inhalation of Twilight's pheromones, and all but turned her tongue into a vibrator in her eagerness to please her massive mistress.

Pinkie was of a mind to keep Spitfire captive. With her arms up, she pulled her elbows forward and tightened her shoulders, tensing her crushingly hard pectorals-- and by extension, the squishy jiggle of her mammoth mammaries-- around Spitfire's head. Letting out a pleasured whinny at the sensation of rubbing the small pegasus in her breasts like an especially ribbed-for-her-pleasure dildo, Pinkie flexed her tough abdominal muscles as well. Stretched as they might be on her round belly, they were immensely strong nonetheless and soon, surrounded by Pinkie's sugary scent, all Spitfire could do was squirm and gasp for breath, even her wings' wild flaps caught by the heavy hang of pink hooters.

Nipples peaking out like a normal bodybuilder's biceps, Pinky continued to assume the full pose, arching her back and physically lifting Spitfire up and out of the jelly. Her wings raised behind her, displaying the rippling lats and traps for the prime Elemental Princess' prurient lusts, and Pinkie shoved her juicy, incredibly broad butt up high, tensing her glutes, invisible beneath the perfect globes of mouthwatering assfat. She dipped her left knee forward, a slight lunge into the messy jelly, the back of her quads bulging out of her thick thunder thigh in time with her taught calf. She turned out the other knee and foot, ducking them back to display that leg's identical strength from the side angle, rough curves surrounded by soft smoosh.

As Spitfire continued to struggle, and succeeded only in pleasuring Pinkie-- but not nearly enough to get her to cum-- Pinkie turned her head at one of her classic over-wide angles and stared at Twi through her half-lidded left eye. "It's not real wrestling with such a helpless cutie, mistress, but will it do?"

Twilight's arousal left her with only one response. "Yes," she growled. "Show me all of it before you make her cry auntie."

Ever-willing (or at least, at the moment ever-willing) Pinkie let out a whinny of agreement and slowly turned around to face her mistress. She slid her mighty legs around through the dark-colored jelly, streaks of it sliding over and outlining the muscles of her calves. As she came to face Twilight completely, she lowered her wings and straightened her legs, Spitfire still thrashing about in her captivity. While Pinkie's face was a bit vacant with the sheer pleasure of Spitfire's squirming, the rest of her upper body remained highly well defined, save for the dome of her belly where the pegasus was caught.

Giggling and bowing her head to Twilight, Pinkie kept her huge pecs and huger tits flexed around her "captive," and suddenly swung her girthy arms down, fists clashing together just under her jiggly milkers, and by extension, under Spits' wings. The musculature never had time to sink below the curvy-bouncy softness that usually covered it, rippling back up to massive, almost redoubled definition. Her legs did the same, teasing together, dipping forward at the knees to once more display her mighty, bare, mountaincrusher legs, her quads miniature mountains smashed together all their own, calves bulging like either the best kind of show or the worst kind of charlie horse. In her most muscular pose, that delightful crab, she held Spitfire's legs dangling into the jelly as she awaited Twilight's will.

Twilight was smiling affectionately, if lewdly, of course. There was no threat to Spitfire there, not really. Pinkie certainly could kill like this, but never would; the only reason Spitfire was less safe in Pinkie's hold than Twilight's was that Twilight would have had more control; here, the difference was only between "slight bruising" and "nothing at all." But I do so like playing at being 'merciless,' she admitted to herself. Ducking her fingers down to steal some of her quimcum from poor, horny Flare's tongue, she pulled a nice dollop of her own juices out to suck on for a moment, shifting her seat to wordlessly order Flare to put her lip back to work on Twilight's clit.

As the dedicated sissy muff-diver enthusiastically obeyed, Twilight pretended to consider Spitfire's fate. She smirked, and popped her finger out of her mouth before making a thumbs down gesture. "Scissor the slut," she growled. "Until she suffers the terrible, terrible fate of begging her auntie Pinkie for release!"

Pinkie bowed her head, trying to pretend some seriousness, though the bounce of her wild curls told a different story. She straightened her arms again and relaxed her pecs, just slightly, flicking one, then the other in and out of a dancing flexion to batter Spitfire on her way down between their giant warmth. Poor Spits, Twilight thought, but smiled. She cupped her feet around below Flare's fat flare, pressing the arches in to pinch off any possibility of climax, but giving her room to stroke the sensitive crown with her big toes. Poor Spits, indeed; none of us have really had the chance to do that to her since she begged for it on her bachelorette party! I'll have to tell Cady and Shiny about Spits' favorite holds to be put in. She purred, groaning and squealing, perhaps a bit out of character for a debauched maretriarch on her pony throne, but Flare's pussy-eating was just so good!

As Twilight moved her fingers back to the meaty heft of her under-melons, stroking and fondling with hasty delight, Spitfire fell almost to her knees in the jelly. Pinkie, though, refused to let her. As Spitfire slumped, Pinkie giggled and dipped her whole body in a cross-legged curtsy to Twilight. A rather tight cross-legged curtsy at that, trapping Spitfire's torso in her huge, fat thighs and anchoring Spitfire's legs together at the ankles between Pinkie's taut calves. She held the curtsy for a moment, just tight enough to keep her prey from escaping or falling, periodically flexing and extending her quads to grind Spitfire's rock-hard nips back and forth until the dazed Pegasus moaned, "Wha.. uh… Mistress Pinkie… oh… I…"

Pinkie made a shushing sound and tapped Spitfire gently on the lips, even as she began to squeeze her thighs closer together, giving the horny warrior pegasus the full-body near-crushing she lusted after so badly! "Not like that, Spitsy-witsy," she cooed. "I'm not the mistress here-- Twilight is!" Giggling, Pinkie kept fondling Spitfire's breasts with carefully controlled "pinches" of iron hard muscle. "Only three ways out, Spitsy." Pinkie licked her lips. "You can tap out or safeword out, like a wimp. I can decide you're too weak to keep going without damaging you-- oooh, Spitsy, naughty! Leaking all sorts of honey down Auntie Pinkie's legs-- I bet you're thinking about my mean ol'scissors just knocking you out until Flare fucks you awake right in your cute little butt!"

Twilight cleared her throat, "If you make her cum, Pinkie, then she doesn't have to cry auntie."

"Eek!" Pinkie yelped. "Er. Right. And the preferred way is that you just tell your Auntie Pinkie what a weakling you are and how much you want to kiss her pie." She blushed bright red under pink, and held the fingers of her right hand up to her lips, as embarrassed as a schoolfilly-- but didn't stop grinding Spitfire between her legs.

Spitfire struggled weakly, trying to use her wings to "attack" Pinkie's pussy like before, but couldn't get them lose. Twilight was so proud of her-- there were reasons that the Elementals trusted her as no other non-alicorn at Dashie's back in the field-- but the results were undeniable. Eventually, panting and groaning, horny and yearning for release but trapped, Spitfire hung her head against one of Pinkie's rippling quads and whispered, "I'm such a--"

"Can't hear you, soldier!" bellowed Pinkie.

"I'm such a weak little beta slut, Auntie Pinkie!" groaned Spitfire. "I want to kiss your pie until it creams!"

Twilight smirked, and let go of Flare's fillycock-- mostly. She ground her heel into the base of Flare's sheath, pointing the fat prick towards the arena again as a huge swell of trapped seed traveled up the length.

"SpeakingofcreamgottagoIacceptyoursubmissionwhee!" Pinkie yoinked Spitfire up from between her thighs and ran swiftly over to the edge of the jelly. Before the half-conscious pegasus realized what was going on, Pinkie was holding her carefully with two fingers touching against Pinkie's thumb, the lewd parody of a mudra thrust into Spitfire's pussy, Pinkie's pinkie on Spitfire's clit, and her other hand smooshing Spitfire's cheeks together to open her mouth. Rapidly masturbating Spitfire, Pinkie carefully slung the pegasus around to catch all of the thick gobs of Flare's flung cum out of the air before "forcing" Spitfire the rest of the way into a squealing climax.

Giggling herself, Twilight rose off her gasping throne. "I love you, Pinkie Pie. Put the poor girl down and let her cum herself silly for a bit." She snapped her fingers, and magenta coldfire unlocked Flare from the throne, a secondary burst enchanting stamina in and the refractory period out of Flare's well-used member. then shook her tail at the eager submissive. "Still got it," she purred, shaking her hips.

Flare scrambled up to heed the ass' call Dazed, stumbling, her prick seeming to be still aching with need and her balls pressed forward hard by the sperm within and the semen welling in the vesicles behind, she tried faintly to curtsy to Twilight, and Twilight gently caught her before she could tumble. Twilight gently fondled Flare's thin but still curvy hips with one broad hand, and walked a gloved finger over the throbbing tool, scraping against the pulsing veins. "M-mistress!" groaned Flare. "I'm going to…"

"Do it. All over your wife's face." Twilight leered lovingly at both.

Pinkie had carefully placed Spitfire on her back; Twilight cradled Flare's pre-oozing length in her leather-clad palm, and squeezed gently, aiming at Spitfire. "Do I even have to rub you, sweetie?" she whispered in Flare's ear. "Or will you… just… cum." The last was half a snarl.

No, apparently, Twilight did not have to rub; Flare's fillycock began to spew all over Spitfire's face almost immediately, jetting thick ropes onto the smallest mare, marking her with the rich, white seed. All Flare could manage, her face full of Twilight's scent, was to squeal cutely in climax.

Tugging on Flare's ear-- and coincidentally lengthening the climax-- Twilight ordered, "You're to fuck her hard, Flare. As hard as if she was in heat. I know you don't like being dominant…"

Flare blushed, still panting and groaning, her tongue lolling out. "F-for my Sp-sp-spitfire, Mistress? A-a-and you? I'll fuck like I was s-s-still--"

"You are not. You surrendered that to me, and then to her. You are not a stallion. Do not ever forget that. Fuck her like a mare, Flare. Fuck her like you were soothing a fellow mare's heat. That's all."

Flare submissively kissed the underside of Twilight's neck. "Thank you, mistress."

Kissing back, first on the forehead, then on the lips, Twilight hungrily held close to her sweet little toy, one broad hand reaching down to grab Flare's throbbing prick. "This is a tool for pleasing mares. When you have pleasure, it pleases Spitfire's little broodmare, right?" Flare blushed, but nodded. Still kissing Flare, Twilight began to stroke the almost painfully hard fillycock, gently stroking her heavy-hanging balls with a strong finger.

Finally breaking the kiss, Twilight smiled. "Good girl." Slapping Flare on the ass, Twilight sent the athletic, graceful sissy prancing over to Spitfire. Blushing, Flare knelt down and began to lewdly lap her own cum from her wife's face, swallowing some like the neat, prim little slut she was, and sharing the majority with her still-dazed wife through deep kisses.

As Flare worked on bringing Spitfire to her feet and over to one of the tables, Twilight sauntered over towards Pinkie, her gargantuan hips rolling to and fro, the soft layer over the hard muscles jiggling and bouncing in time. "Ready to serve, Pinkie?" she growled, prowling closer by the word.

Giggling, Pinkie held up her berry-covered melons, exposing the dark stains on her belly as well as most of the rest of her body. "But miiiistress, I'm still all sticky! Spitfire was naughty!" The laughing alicorn bobbed back and forth on her heels, shaking her plush-covered form about, giving Twilight quite the pulse in her clit and drip in her snatch for the watching.

Nonetheless, Twilight rolled her eyes and grabbed Pinkie by the chin with her left, glove-clad hand. "And who was it who got a little extra competitive and rendered her tonguewasher stunned, Pinkie?" She smiled, and pulled the shorter alicorn closer, slapping the leather on her other palm on Pinkie's jiggly hip, rubbing her fingers into the warm, soft lushness. As Pinkie tried to speak despite Twilight's hands, Twilight tilted her chin up and pressed a fierce kiss, her tongue forcing into Pinkie's held-open mouth and wrestling with her larger one. For all Pinkie's tongue's unusual length and size and capability, Twilight's aggressiveness and strength held the day, forcing her submissive sister-of-soul to give way, melting into Twilight's arms, and eventually, even stop talking.

Eventually, she released Pinkie, a considering look in her eyes. While Pinkie's mane and tail poofed out behind her, her tail wiggling and waving rapidly, Twilight's eyes took on an almost predatory glint. She grabbed Pinkie by her overstuffed booty, squishing and fondling the jelly-stained globes, grinding her own mega-melons into Pinkie's only slightly smaller rack. Pinkie let out a long groan as the hyper-sensitive nerves of her alicorn bosom played right into Twilight's hands-- or boobs, as it were-- but Twilight just widened her eyes, that hungry look steadily increasing.

Pinkie was caught, utterly caught in Twilight's raptor gaze. She melted, torso forward into Twilight's, cushy ass back into Twilight's hands. "M-m-mistress?" she whispered, suddenly almost as shy as Flare. "W-what are you…"

"It's my party, Pinkie. I'll lick whom I want to." Twilight traced her thick, orange tongue from one corner of her lips, across the top, and then back around the lower. "You're my sweet treat, aren't you?" she purred, and with just one hand, she lifted the lightly trembling Pinkie up into the air until Pinkie's wobbling V-cups were at her muzzle. Then that tongue went to work.

No part of Pinkie's hefty hooters were spared. It didn't matter that she was really only stained a bit in the front and underboob. Twilight licked and salivated all over Pinkie's super rack, pausing only to nibble lightly-- never bite, not one of her girls, not unless they asked-- at the soft, squishy flesh, slightly sagging with their own voluptuous mass. As Pinkie's moans turned into gasps, the vulva-like sexual responsiveness of her breastflesh stimulating her, Twilight alternated the licking with sucking, not on the nipples yet, but inhaling and capturing a gallon or so of Pinkie's big pies at a time and making her squeal.

Twilight wished she could get away with leaving hickies, but any permanent marks of her attempts to claim Pinkie always vanished the instant she turned around. Luna and Celestia didn't even try, just shaking their heads; Luna, especially so.

Instead, she had to be content with the now, dominating Pinkie's giant knockers with mouth and tongue alone, lapping up the sweet jelly and tasting the candy-like scent of Pinkie on her hide. Content, indeed, she thought with a sniff, and latched onto Pinkie's right nipple, grasping it gently in her teeth but lashing it firmly with her tongue.

"Mistress!" screamed Pinkie, gyrating her hips and bouncing her ass around so much that Twilight had to plant a broad hand on Pinkie's bobbing belly, fingers splayed wide to keep the climaxing mare from vibrating out of Twilight's grip! Once she had Pinkie properly secured, Twilight went back to suckling on Pinkie's shot glass-size nip, evoking more wails of pleasure and more gushes of femmecum down onto the floor

She paused only for a moment, turning to smirk at Flare and Spitfire. Flare had been pounding Spitfire over a cleared spot of the snack table, fucking that tight little pussy just as Twilight ordered. But both had turned to stare in awe at the squealing Pinkie, and that wouldn't do. She glared, just a little. "I didn't tell you sluts to stop fucking!" she growled, though her heart melted a bit at how cute they were! Well, she thought, this is the sort of scene they wanted…

As the pair responded admirably-- Flare's hips moving to once more slam fat fillycock into Spitfire's heated snatch before Flare could even manage enough out of subspace's haze to move her head-- Twilight turned back to Pinkie. The smaller mare was still climaxing, but that wasn't enough for Twilight. She'd started to slow into little, cute gasps and wriggles; her pussy wasn't even winking anymore.

"Can't have that," Twilight purred, and before the dazed Pinkie could respond, she latched onto Pinkie's left titty-nub and gave it the same treatment that the first got! Pinkie let out a series of gibbering, giggling, gurgling noises of delight, her long, powerful legs thrashing out to either direction, arms waving wildly, limbs occasionally slapping into Twilight with no more effect than a wet piece of paper. Pinkie's mane was all but completely vertical, and her tail was actually spinning so hard that gusts of wind were blown across the jelly sea behind her.

Let's see, though, I want Miss Pie to remember not to slow down cumming just because I have to bark an order… Twilight's eyes gleamed and her ears twitched, her own tail wagging over her leather-clad butt enthusiastically. As she continued the sensuous "abuse" of Pinkie's diamond-hard nipple, she slid her grip around on Pinkie, maneuvering the flailing, creaming alicorn to where she could better access her creaming twat.

While femmecum drooled out in a waterfall of pleasure, Twilight pressed two leather-clad fingers deep inside of Pinkie, wriggling them and rubbing them over Pinkie's spasming inner walls. Within moments, she found Pinkie's G-spot, an old friend for fucking the fun-loving princess. She broke her vacuum-tight seal on Pinkie's nip just briefly to comment, "Do it, sweetie. Cum for your mistress," before to returning to her voracious suckling-- and began to swiftly stimulate Pinkie's G.

Pinkie obeyed! Her tail stood almost on end, poofiness remaining, but so far out and back that it vibrated, bopping and bouncing around. Gotta use that someday, Twilight thought in between long slurps, nibbling lightly at each nipple and then sucking harder on her gigantic tits until the pink-hided V-Cups were all but sparkling. But Pinkie obeyed.

Pinkie came. Squealing, yelling, thrashing around in her mistress' unbreakable amazonian grip, her own huge muscles pumping through the surface of her lovely, cushy fat, her forearms slapping against Twilight's sixty-inch peaks as Pinkie completely surrendered to her orgasm; to Twilight only slightly less so.

Gushing waves of cotton-candy scented femmecum-- And how she does that, I still don't know-- poured over Twilight's glove, soaking her fist and the floor beneath. Without warning, Twilight suddenly juggled the spasming princess of laughter around in her arms, a lusty growl bubbling up from her voluminous chest.

She caught Pinkie in her arms and opened her lavender maw wide. Her long tongue swirled and teased over Pinkie's clutching belly, adding tickling giggles to Pinkie's self-chorus of climactic cries. Twilight said she was going to clean her bitch, and she meant it. I may not be able to claim all of you for our little bachelorette herd, Pinkie, but I'm going to keep reminding you that we love you, for whenever you choose to give yourself, not just to me, but to us. That same long pony tongue fluttered into Pinkie's chubby little belly button, slurping out the sweet jelly that had collected there during the "match," but also pressing against the sensitive flesh within. Same basis and same nerve trunk as your clit, honey-- and I know you're a navel nut, my love.

Whatever little calmness had swept over Pinkie when Twilight's tongue had been pulled out of her belly was utterly gone now. The seven foot six alicorn wrapped her long, curvaceous legs tightly around Twilight's huge left arm, the cables of Pinkie's quad's stretching and her calves bulging as though in (futile) attempt to put a lock on Twilight's terrifying muscle. Her cushy-strong arms pulled back behind her, hands clamping down desperately for purchase on Twilight's wrist and elbow, fingers stroking at the leather-clad limb behind her as if pleading. Pink wings slammed out to their maximum extension straight out and up, and even that amazonian swan-strike didn't even bobble Twilight's grip an inch!

That grip had the mistressy now, That grip, from both arms-- for all Pinkie's desperately clutching legs as she screamed out Twilight's name at the top of her lungs, making the reinforced room shake with the power of Pinkie's voice, she could not stop Twilight from pulling her grip wider, forcing Pinkie to go straighter, giving her better access to that belly button. Twilight kept at it, lapping deep into Pinkie's navel, periodically going elsewhere, to link a jiggling, bouncing hip here, or slurp along her ribs there, cleaning, always cleaning, a subordinate activity turned into dominant, but always turning back to Pinkie's navel and to force her to squirt like a fountain.

Twilight eventually finished off Pinkie's near hip and rump cheek, kissing her rear, yes, but nipping it and slurping over it. "Mine," she hissed. "All mine." She pulled Pinkie's arms and legs together and flipped her around, Pinkie's legs and hands flailing for purchase before Twilight caught her and gave the same hickie-leaving treatment to her other side. At last, she pulled back and dangled Pinkie upside down by her ankle, taking a long moment to lick Pinkie's delicious juices from her left glove.

"M-mistress?" squeaked Pinkie, as beside them, Flare and Spitfire's frenzied coupling reached a fevered pace. Twilight smiled smugly; Flare had climaxed five times already and Spitfire's taut abs had disappeared beneath her bloated belly. Spitfire wasn't stopping orgasm to count.

Pinkie wriggled a bit, her breasts bobbing off her face as gravity made its will known. "Erm… Mistress… Mistress Twilight? Is -- did I displease you?"

She waited until she'd finished slurping down Pinkie's gush before swinging Pinkie so the giantess' head was between Twilight's gigantic, curve-blessed thighs. She didn't bother moving from her broad stance. She just flexed, and cradled Pinkie's head utterly captive in walls of huge, rippling muscles and soft, cushioning plush. "Get licking, Pinkie. I'll throne you in a moment, dear, but I'm still hungry, slut."

Yiping, Pinkie began to extend her long, prehensile tongue, thicker and larger by far than Flare's honestly fairly impressive marecock into Twilight's dripping snatch. Her position meant her prehensile lip was limited to just desperate petting at Twilight's thighs and vulva, but she did it nonetheless, coiling her tongue to obediently brush up against her mistress' throbbing clit while it wriggled around within, lightly stroking the clenching inner walls and cuddling submissively against Twilight's waiting G.

The big alicorn groaned, her giant pussy drenching Pinkie in her lube and in her scent! Twilight resumed 'cleaning'-- tasting, really-- the delectable if unsubtle interplay between Pinkie's lovely scent and the raspberry jelly. Twilight was utterly merciless, leaving every inch of Pinkie groomed and slurped clear of the jelly; even licking and slobbering over both feet in turn. There was no submission in it, though there was love, teasing and tickling and caressing, especially around the big toes to stimulate the toe-curling orgasmic counter reaction.

Pinkie would just have to deal with having cum all over herself like a fountain whilst lying beneath Twilight, because Twilight had no intention of letting her clean up before using her face.

Using my lovely slut-sister's face more, I should say, Twilight thought with supreme satisfaction when she finally hauled the smaller Alicorn up from between Twilight's thighs, and set her down unsteadily on her own two feet. Pinkie was still climaxing, and Twilight grinned; she quite knew why: she'd covered Pinkie's face and chin and neck and parts of her poofy mane in a soaking wave of pheromone-laden femmecum. Pinkie's tongue does not disappoint!

Twilight leaned forward and kissed Pinkie hard on the lips, letting her raspberry-and-Pinkie flavored mouth seal with Pinkie's Twilight-covered. Somehow, for all the skill and strength and size of Pinkie's tongue, it was Twilight's that conquered yet again. So much so that when Twilight broke the kiss and nodded at the "throne," she had to slap Pinkie on her perfect ass, settling the huge rump cheeks jiggling like the jelly had in the wake of Pinkie's own maneuvering. "Over with you, my pretty pussy! And I presume you've got it set up to deal with the unicorn problem? I don't want your horn poking somewhere uncomfortable for either of us.

Wobbling, making the occasional "woo woo" noises, and her eyes fluttering, Pinkie staggered over to the throne. "Uuhhhhh…" She looked at for a second, then gleeped! when Twilight began to tap a booted toe, waiting. Must not laugh. Must not laugh and spoil my dear one's scene. Twilight's will was suddenly tested to limits rarely seen outside of when the Astrals used her; Pinkie was just too adorable! Twilight loved her, though, and wouldn't dream of mockery or teasing. No, she adored her adorable sister-of-soul, and wanted to give her the ride of her life! As it had been done for her, so would she do for her sweeties.

Whether it was some sympathetic magic with Twilight's love, or because Pinkie recovered quickly, soon, the alicorn knelt beside the throne, her horn glowing pink and magic surrounding part of it, shifting the seat around from being in front, with a good placement to footjob Flare-- Whups, she's up to eight in Spits now; I wonder if Spits'll end up preggers despite not being in heat. She's certainly getting the pheromonal dose-- to being in the back, and better set to rest with a horn levered out of the way. And to be hornjobbed if the 'throne' is a good little pussy licker. She smiled, and snapped her fingers. "Flare! Spitfire!"

The mortal pair looked up at Twilight. "M-m….mmm…"

Oh dear, Flare's not very coherent, is she? Twilight cleared her throat as Pinkie strapped herself in to the throne. "Spitfire, how's Flare's gel these days?" She began to strut over to the throne, making a big show of swaying her dangerously hypnotic hips around.

"Sh-she's usually not t-too thick when… ahhh, when I'm not in heat, mistress?" Spitfire said regretfully. Like most fertile stallion cocks-- in other words, born with them, magical attachments tending to sadly be infertile-- Flare's usually didn't form gel plugs without magical or alchemical assistance, except when in the pussy of a mare in heat. But… they've been soaking in our musk. Maybe…

Twilight ground her hips over Pinkie's patiently waiting lips, and teased her fingers up over Pinkie's horn, making the already eager alicorn vibrate against Twilight's wet twat. She smiled with pleasured contentment and coiled her tongue against her teeth. Pinkie, my dear, I wish I could get similarly fervent responses without your face being covered in my lubricant and pheromones… She considered the two mortal mares, and then nodded. "Spitfire," she said firmly. "Walk off Flare's fillytool. I want to test a theory."

Spitfire took a moment to mournfully pet her cum-swollen belly, and then the tiny general pressed her hands onto Flare's hips. Flare grabbed the table behind her, trying her best to help Spitfire, and eventually, Flare came off the thick shaft with a moist sound and a grunt… and no loss of seed. "Mistress?" she yelped.

"You've been soaking in our musk for quite some time now, dear. And Flare's had the cum of two alicorn mares on his face for a bit, and you've mine on yours, honey. And a certain naughty bitch of mine," she interrupted herself to jerk Pinkie's horn to sparking and then slowed her hands to edge and "punish" Pinkie, "Forgot to re-trigger your in-stable protection spells, didn't she?" Twilight didn't dignify Pinkie's muffled oops-noises with anything other than loving telekinetic swats over the pink mare's giant V-cup knockers. Both "punishments" and the oops intensified the vibration of Pinkie's tongue in Twilight's clenching quim.

After a few long squeals, Twilight smiled. "Congratulations, dears. You're pregnant almost for certain. Now, Spits, you're going to 'thank' Pinkie by sucking her horn off; Flare, you're going to do your wifely duty and fuck Spits' ass while she does so." Twilight groaned as Pinkie curled her tongue to slurp Twilight's inner walls and rub against her clit all at once, squirming her thick, curvy thighs, spreading them widely and leaving poor Pinkie's teased horn open to the air.

Flare still being a bit knocked out from her double-dose, Spitfire ended up having to gently grab her wife with a fist around Flare's flare; as Pinkie had commented, the cum-sticky crown made quite a decent natural leash! It was even better for Spitfire, much shorter than Flare, though Twilight noted with bemusement that precum was actively leaking through Spitfire's callused fingers; seems the good general wasn't bothering to stop herself from masturbating her wife along the way.

"Mmm, that's… ahhhhh… mmm… yes, that's good, ladies. Come to your mistress so you can cum for your mistress. Twilight winked at the mortals while winking and gushing around Pinkie's deep-diving tongue. Just as her huge thunder thighs were spread wide, the tenseness of her stance showing off the cabled power of her thighs, she opened up her arms as though to hug, though the flick of her fingers indicating her breasts and Pinkie's horn might indicate some rather more erotic prospects than a mere embrace.

Spitfire gently lead Flare over, and Twilight grabbed the pair, pulling them close to her heavy knockers. "Suck, ladies. Me first, and then Spitfire, you fellate Pinkie. Flare, honey, how bad do you want in Spits' arse?" she asked, cuddling both mares up to her huge nips. "Oops," she giggled, as both mares seemed far more interested in suckling at her breasts than answering her, though she did feel that Flare's immediate rush of pre over her giant tit was probably a good answer. "Got a bit ahead of myself."

She let go of their heads but permitted the pair to pleasure her nipples a little longer, while Pinkie's deliciously long and agile tongue filled her sopping snatch deeply, exploring and stroking as though every new gush of Twilight's femmecum was a perfect squirt of ice cream to the sweets-obsessed mare. Twilight fed her own taste for treats, stroking her leather-clad fingers through the mess left by Flare's "answer." "Mmm," Twilight purred. "Nice and salty, you've been keeping up in the kitchen, Flare. But ladies…" she warned, voice trailing off. I don't like repeating commands. I may be a bit forgiving since the sweeties' tongues are nice on my nips, but poor Pinkie's horn!

Thankfully, it seems that the two mares weren't too pussy-addled. Wobbling and wriggling about to Twilight's visual pleasure (Pinkie was taking care of the physical side of things quite well), they staggered around in front of her. Twilight gently guided Spitfire down to the horn sticking up from the throne's subbie-chamber. "Just side licks and kisses until you know how rough Flare's going to be with your tush. I think she's a little worked up."

"Mistress!" objected Flare.

"Flare, unless you can be more coherent with your objections… Didn't think so," drawled Twilight when Flare blushed and wriggled her thinly curved hips, splattering her wife's ass with the mixed fluids. Twilight reached out with her long, strong leg and snagged Flare by the well-padded rump. "In her. Now." Flare hastened to obey, her slick cock aimed for Spitfire's anus. Twilight was very proud to see Flare's gentle strokes against the smaller mare's asscrack, dripping lube into her and lightly prodding Spitfire's tightest tunnel. Even this pussy-drunk, she's good to her wife. I'd say I did good training her, but I can't take credit for that; it's all Flare.

Inexorably, though, Flare followed her mistress' commands and the wordless urgings of her tail-flagged wife's eager rear. The shy sissy gasped in pleasure, curling her fingers delicately against the sides of her face as her wife's ass seemed to grab hold of her thick tool and pull it forward. Spitfire didn't seem capable of words any more, but as Flare began to rut into the taut little pegasus' ass, she threw herself into giving Pinkie what looked like an excellent hornjob, complete with early sparks.

And of course, Pinkie is still giving my cunny the closest, best thing to a friendly tentacle-job I'm ever to likely want to experience-- and not changing a whit for having a bodacious hornjob. Twilight smiled, even as her toes curled, and she started to gyrate her hips faster over Pinkie's loving lips and squeeze her kegels down on Pinkie's excellent tongue. That's Pinkie Pie!

She shuddered, stroking Spitfire's mane with wild abandon, her heavy breasts bobbing with the increased motion. "Yes… my dear ones, yes!" She shuddered, whinnying in delight. Her cum fell like a waterfall over Pinkie's tongue, the agile, coiling organ pulling it all into her hungry sister-of-soul's mouth, Pinkie's lip giving Twilight that excellent clitty love. Twilight wasn't sure how females from races that didn't have prehensile lips could stand that missing finger; she imagined she'd find out if their oral experts worked in…

Twilight came again, howling with pleasure, her hands curling into Spitfire's short mane all the tighter as she instinctively drove the hot-blooded pegasus to further licking along Pinkie's horn, only releasing Spitfire when the mare reached Pinkie's tip and began to suck again. She smiled over at Flare, whispering, "Fill her, my sweet toy. I can see it in your belly, in your breathing. Fill your wife's ass!"

She so did love sharing orgasms, a deeply sexual friendship that saw delight for everyone. Pinkie's horn filled Spitfire's mouth with the spicy, fizzy nothingness of hornjizz, and the yellow mare guzzled it all down. As often happened when an alicorn's horn lit up in a mortal's mouth, the side effects were brief, but obvious, Spitfire's flame-like manestyle actually flickering and looking like real flame as the illusion coursed through her. Sptifire was certainly cumming hard around the plug her doting sissy-wife had left in her cunt; Twilight read it in the jerky motion she made over Pinkie's horn, the grunts and moans, even in the pawing of Spitfire's feet against the floor.

And what of said lovely, soft broodwife? Flare was the last to cum, dedicated and waiting on her lovers' pleasure like a proper toy. She squealed, her voice high pitched from the delightful strain. Whoops, thought Twilight. I probably should make sure she doesn't gelpack poor Spits' ass! Despite the distraction of her own gusher down on Pinkie's face and tongue, she had rock-solid control of her magic, even able to summon a little extra kick from the rite of their shared pleasure to cancel out some of the fertility effects on poor Flare's stiff marecock-- or rather, on the vesicles feeding the gel mixture! By the time Flare came hard into Spitfire, she was definitely adding to her beloved's bulge-- but not, quite, so long term.

Twilight came happily on Pinkie's face, squealing in recurrent delight. Her muscles tensed; her powerful body trembled, and she lifted her long legs up to grab Flare by the ass with her feet, shoving the climaxing mare into her wife's rum, and carefully bracing Spitfire's shoulders with her broad hands to prevent difficulties with Pinkie's horn. Which was, as Pinkie often did when someone got her horn running, still pumping joyful magic into Spitfire's drooling mouth, lighting up her mane and even sending sparks flying down her tail.

It took the little orgy a few moments to calm from their shared climax, but at last, Twilight relaxed her hold on both pegasi, her majestic quads untensing and falling to the side, her hands falling lazily between them. She chuckled deeply. "I'm so proud of you all," her voice husky huskily. "But I think I want to keep using this throne for a bit before I reclaim your face, Spits, love." She gently stroked the short mare's cheek as she literally drooled raw magic overflow from Pinkie's horngasm. "Let's see, so to make sure that pretty bulge stays in your belly the longest…"

Twilight whispered into the minds-- especially the libidos-- of all three of her precious mares, rewarding them as they adored her. As Pinkie Parties went, this one might be small, but none of the participants thought of it as anything less than a total success.

Author's Notes:

Sorry if this is a little rough; it doesn't look like anyone but me will have a chance to edit it for a while, and I wanted to get it out for 6/9, especially since Twi does a vertical 69! :)

Chapter 5 - Applesat (Applejack)

Whap! Wibble...

The sting was instant, as was Twilight’s snarled response. "Ow! Hey!" Twilight rubbed her leather-clad rear and turned around to glare. The heavy-set, heavily muscled mare who'd taken liberties with Twilight's squishy rump-- liberties nothing, that was a full on spank!-- was a lot closer to her height than most. Seven feet and eight inches of almost pure muscle, save for the mare's own squeezable heiny, which was going to be feeling "liberated" repeatedly if Twilight had her way, and, of course, the colossal X-cup tits bouncing against Twilight's mega-rack. "You'd better have a damn good reason for that, AJ!"

Smug and buff, that was Applejack Apple: potently exuberant Princess of Earth and muscular Maretriarch of the far-flung Apple Clan. Everything from her bare toes to her lush, aggressively cocked hips spoke of a challenging attitude and a playful heart. "Heh, like how ya been takin' shameless advantage of the others, an' not me?" Applejack smirked, and adjusted her wide-brimmed Stetson hat around her horn with the thumb of one hand. Four inches’ difference wasn't much at their mutually massive height, but she still took advantage of it to give Twilight a rebellious upwards look, with a twist of her dramatically broad hips as she stared full on into Twilight's eyes. "Naw. Don't need no excuses, after all. Though Ah kin get some if ya like."

Twilight quirked an eyebrow. She'd been looking forward to this; her two most submissive friends and her wildest love had already made their bids to end up beneath her immensely plush rump, which was still jiggling slightly from Applejack’s slap. All that were left were her two most dominant (and hence most fun to conquer) sweet-bitches-slash-close-friends. "I suppose I expected as much, AJ," she said with her hands on her immense hips. "It seems everyone wants a piece of little old me right now. Pinkie even threw a party." She stopped for a moment to leer up and down at Applejack's gorgeous body, giant muscles reminiscent of Luna on a stockier, shorter frame, orange hide and freckles everywhere.

And I do mean everywhere, Twilight thought. Speckled over her mega-tits, on her broad shoulders, a bit on her chiseled belly, even a smattering on her potent thighs… Hmm! She's gone for dress-up, I see. Not much dress-- nor, besides a simple leather-buckled collar on the throat, much up-- but definitely stylized, just the way Twilight loved. Below though, the -- yep! -- leather belt was imprinted with a stylized Coltic knot pattern, studded in orange rhinestones with a big ol' orichalcum apple buckle. Two plates of the same golden material, painted dark crimson with her cutie mark in lighter reds, were molded to fit over Applejack's lusciously curvy hips and down protectively over her absolutely massive super-quads, anchored on her waist belt, and with another apple-buckled belt stretched dangerously midway down each thigh.

That was the start of the show, and Twilight noted with approval that no impediment to access to her friend and fucktoy's sweet pussy or delectable rump could be found in the middle. She was bare from there down to her knees, where the heavy red dome topping her brown half-greave boots protected the vulnerable patella. Twilight's clit throbbed and pussy dampened inside her leather panties as she noticed Applejack had even gone to the extent of putting her lovely pale olive mane and tail both into long, three-strand warrior's braids, replete with the surprise wires and weighted ties that turned long manes-- and tails!-- from vulnerabilities into assets back in the pre-Windigo nomadic era. Yowza, thought Twilight. I think that's even an archaeologically-accurate replication of the Staples proto-clan warmistress circle around her apple.

Applejack snorted, and shifted her right hip forward, smacking her heavy right tit into Twilight's left. "Ya jes gonna stare now, mare? Or are ya gonna tell me what kinda shenanigans Ah gotta pull ta get mah face ridden proper?"

Twilight smirked, her giant breast bouncing from the impact, but precious little else even bobbling. "I don't know. Seems like it'd be almost unfair of me to just give you a challenge after how much research you've put in," she told Applejack with a wink. She raised her hand and waved her dangling fingers dismissively at the mighty amazon. "Let's see you put some sass on it."

Tucking her hat as forward as her horn would allow, Applejack set her stubborn jaw and quirked an eyebrow right back at her friend. With a fierce glare that didn't quite rob her face of its perpetually playful smile, she replied, "So it's sass ya want, huh? Ah kin getcha sass…" Stomping her huge boots, the massive mare circled Twilight like a wolf, looking her prey up and down. Once, twice, thrice.

Twilight gathered her gigantically muscled arms up under her titanic tits, and shifted her weight onto one of her raised heels as she watched Applejack move. What will the challenge be? Twilight thought with inner excitement. It's not like she has a gage to slap me with or something. Outwardly she forced herself to snooty serenity and just rolled her eyes as Applejack continued to circle her. Hah! You can't break my warmare spirit, Applejack! I'll--

Thwap-thwap! came the renewed spankings she really honestly should have been expecting, followed by the wibbling of her rump shaking and vibrating around fit to break the walls! Snarling, feet unconsciously shifting for a pounce, Twilight turned with an ungentle pump of her prodigious muscles and straight up whacked Applejack full on with her giant tits, slamming the slightly smaller alicorn heavily back into the wall by pure boob-impulse. Curling her dark lips into a growl, she snapped out, "AJ, I swear to Celestia that if you don't have a good reason why you just spanked me without beating me again…"

Eyes glinting and hands having snaked just far out of the way enough to avoid the pin-- and rest on her swaggering hips-- Applejack seemed to be enjoying herself and her pillowy confinement. "'Cause yer weak. Gone soft," she said with an apple-eating grin. Pinned into the wall by Twilight's boobs or not, rapidly getting her way onto Twilight's "Goes Under My Butt" list, challenge or no challenge, Applejack reached a burly arm up and flicked one of her thick fingers into the side of of Twilight's squishing rack, setting it jiggling as well and making both mares' nipples drive interesting patterns of pleasure into the other. "Eeyup," Applejack said, nodding as if to herself. "Got flabby, filly. Unworthy of yer boss' honors."

She did not go there. She did! Twilight's nostrils flared, muzzle pulling back into a toothy dominance display. Chest heaving and battering the smaller mega-mare, she grabbed Applejack's wrists, pushing the impudent alicorn further against the wall. The massive cables Twilight called neck muscles stood out now, and her brow was already starting to twitch as she shifted her weight to her mountainous legs, forcing the breastlock further and further onto Applejack. Growling, she spoke through clenched teeth: "Okay, now you'd better give me a good reason why I shouldn't just drag you off to the playroom and teach you how to act with respe-mmfmmmf!"

Impudent and impulsive as ever, Applejack had squirmed up as she'd been pushed back, then swiftly leaned up against her captor's huge breasts, docking her matching pair in close, tilted her muzzle up, and stolen a long kiss right in the middle of Twilight’s rant! Their tongues tangled, their lips pressed, but not an inch did Twilight give up in pinning the Alicorn of Honesty in a crushing trap. Eventually, she broke the kiss and snarled, "You are so totally in for it--"

"Ah challenge you."

"... What?"

"Ah challenge you. Ya ain't fit ta take th'Royal Foster with ya 'round the world, look atcha! Flabby. Soft. Splutterin' an' carryin' on like a stallion caught 'tween two tight rumps. Ah challenge you, Ah said. Lesee if ya got what it takes!"

Twilight fumed. Inwardly, part of her was amazingly pleased that Applejack had not merely gotten dressed, but had also gone to the trouble of finding a challenge that would really piss her off.

Really. Seriously piss her off.

She thrust her heavy rack forward, grinding her teeth together. Their pillowy chests plushed out, and both mares instinctively flexed the gigantic pectoral muscles behind them, tightening up and shoving back. "I don't have to take this from a silly little broodmare who had to beg face-deep in Rarity's pussy just to learn not to embarrass herself at diplomatic dinners!" Twilight shouted, forcing Applejack's wrists back against her sides and digging them against her rump, bending her body between her trapped arms and rubbing her damp, gushing pussy over one of Twilight's massively corded quads.

Applejack let out a long groan, but cut it off with a clack and snap of her flat teeth. Tilting her neck back and forth with audible snaps, she snarled, "At least Ah can stay fit outta mah comfort zone! Ya been a princess but five years an' yer already slipping from whatcha beloved boss expects of ya! Ya cain't handle mah challenge, ya ain't gonna be able ta handle th'dayum cat-bird Empr'ess! Yer gonna fail Celestia, yer gonna fail alla us!"

Twilight wasn't entirely certain, but she was starting to suspect that her mane was steaming or sparking, and possibly had gone to full on flame. Still holding Applejack in the punishing hold, she growled, low, wordless, and bestial. Glare met glare, nostrils flared-- inhaling the mutual aroma of arousal-- and at last, Twilight's lips curled back in a feral grin. "Challenge accepted, you glorious bitch," she rumbled, and pulled back, releasing her grip and sliding her slightly femmejuice-stained thigh away.

Scrambling but still agile, Applejack recovered before she could fall to the floor, her broad feet coming up under her promptly. Her pussy gushed endlessly and openly now, slicking her inner thighs, but as she stroked the sweat from her forehead with one thumb and winked. "Guess Ah hit a nerve, iffin ya gotta try ta cheat an' take me out early with yer flab there, filly." With that, she proudly curled up her left arm and flexed out her mighty bicep as she drew herself up to full height. With an arrogant sniff, she adjusted her stetson again and waited.

Snorting, Twilight hip-checked Applejack, making the impudent mare whinny and wink an eye as she braced herself against the side of the hall with a muscular forearm. She shook her head, ran through Cadance's breathing exercise and spat out a command. "Just get down to the challenge ring, broodmare. I'm going to make you wish you'd just dressed up pretty and begged for it."

"Aww, sugarcunt, what'm I gonna save to do when y'all get back, then?"

The challenge "ring," was, of course, a large square, raised in the center of a small (by hyper standards) gymnasium. No one else was around at the moment, which was honestly just as well; as much as Twilight enjoyed showing off, she'd given Flutters and Dashie their private time; Pinkie had wanted the party, after all. Heavily reinforced poles and "ropes" made of the same material they tied rogue dragons down with marked the edges.

Perhaps it was a bit silly for two winged mares to walk up to the edge of the ropes and step in, but even Rainbow Dash would do the same. Twilight was firmly of the opinion that there was something distinctly sexy about watching huge hooters heave, and giant legs flex and bob, and the others agreed with her.

Twilight, still a bit crabby from Applejack's insulting challenge, stomped up to the ring first. Whether it was showing off or an attempt to intimidate, she wasn't entirely sure, but she just slammed her broad palm down onto the rope near the champion's corner, shoving the springy, super-dense material down. Her bicep and tricep barely rippled, and that only because she was showing off, her wings rustling behind her and her immense, well-padded ass thrust out behind.

Once she had the ropes down nice and low, the poles groaning in protest, Twilight looked across at Applejack and sneered. Sassy little cunt thinks she can call me unworthy of my love's commands? Her inner friend-- and nerd-- giggled endlessly at how perfect the challenge had been, but the hyper-horny alicorn amazon was almost viciously heartened by the lustful, awed look on Applejack's face. She lifted her right leg, deliberately overtensing to show off the massive expansion under her usual layer of gorgeous padding-- not flab, beautiful padding-- and then stomped down hard with her heavy size twenty two and a half foot, pushing forward to avoid piercing the battleplate that made up the ring's floor.

The ring shook; the gymnasium shook, and Applejack's nipples somehow managed to become stiffer yet. Nonetheless, once Twilight was leaning up against her corner, insouciantly crossing her hefty arms under her heftier knockers and one treetrunk leg atop the other, Applejack made her move as well. Without so much as a running start, she let out a long farmer's holler planted one hand on the corner post and vaulted herself straight up and into the challenger's spot, her massive bicep peaking out as she twisted and turned.

Braided tail and braided mane flying, with X-cup titties wobbling free, Applejack made a gorgeous sight as she flipped into the ring, Twilight had to admit. And if the room didn't shake when she landed, the ring did. More importantly, Twilight thought with a broad leer, Applejack's shaking. Mmm. A pretty little tautness is nice once in a while, but give me volume, give me liters-- give me those nice, fat tits. I'm going to enjoy slapping them around when I have her under my ass.

Applejack wasn't much for magic, even now, save earth power. Even her personal sphere under Twilight was abjuration, and she primarily relied on it to counter enemy advantages. She did have one vanity that mattered, though-- her hat, which had stayed on as though tied down. That said…

"Trying to get me to give you mercy because you think I won't crush that pretty hat of yours between my thighs, broodmare?" Twilight growled, slapping her thunderstorm thighs on the inside, the lovely plush rippling over the titanic muscles within.

Smirking, Applejack took the hat off, and her horn flared green for a moment, The hat took up the enchantment, and levitated over the challenger's corner. "When Ah win, he's gonna go ovah there and crown me into mah corner, Flabby," retorted the warmare, who hunkered forward and flexed her huge arms, back, and chest. Her massive muscles slammed out, her shoulders rippled, her fifty inch biceps slammed into her gigantic breasts from the sides.

"Uh-huh. And in this fantasy of yours, are there any foods left in the land but apples?" Twilight sneered. Ee! Badinage! Banter! Her horn glowed now, and the ring was surrounded with battle banners of unicorn and earth pony clans from long before the shameful slaughter committed by the unicorn aristocracy. Proud rivals that Twilight knew from personal research were tied to both herself and to Applejack, though she furiously omitted from her own side any who'd taken part in the Druid Cull.

Shaking her head, she pulled herself up to her full eight feet and snorted. "Don't answer that," she told Applejack haughtily. She didn't bother going for a most muscular pose of her own; she didn't need to. Arrogantly, she raised just her right arm alone up to the side, level with her shoulder. "Ready, cunt?" she nickered disdainfully, and then clenched her hand into a powerful fist.

As her arm trembled under its own terrifying force, Twilight slowly pulled the massive limb up into a curl. Her forearm swelled out first, bigger than Applejack's calf. As her wrist tilted and her elbow pulled, that forearm pushed back as her bicep peaked out. A terrifying sixty inch circumference swelled out, rippled with untrammeled power, and it promised that this match would be anything but gentle.

Exactly what Applejack wanted, of course.

Which was the foundation that stood beneath them, that bridged the competitive gap between them. There would be aggression in the ring, aggression and lust. But a tap-out would be honored, even beyond just a mere submission. Either opponent, no matter how horny or triumphant, would instantly remove herself from the face of the loser if the double-tap safe gesture was felt, or Applejack's muttered, "Pears!" was heard. None of the girls had ever heard Twilight yelp, "Hoofball," on the rare times when she'd subbed, though it had been known once or twice when things had gotten too intense for her as a top.

Two giantesses were going to slam into each other today. Two goddesses and warmares, true. But also two friends, two lovers who respected each other and needed each other to be safe and happy. And that, Twilight thought, is the sexiest magic of them all. Plus why I'm going to fist her cunt until she squeals like a schoolcolt and then make her eat me out until I put her to sleep between my thighs, but hey, friendship's about having fun, too.

The two massive mares began to slowly move forward. There was no official bell, no caller, though sometimes they'd put it on for the show of the thing. The last courtesy other than those of friendship and SSC that was observed was to allow the other time to get into the ring and to be solid upon her feet. Past that, this was between the two of them and far beyond any rules; two great, hulking horny bitches with lust in their loins and love in their hearts.

They circled each other fluidly in the ring. Without the comforting crutch of simultaneity or time's goad, either could move at any moment-- or wait. Would it be better to control the momentum with a lunge? Or to wait, and catch an attacker off guard in the moment of offensive focus?

Of course, it's not just the competitive aspect, Twilight thought wryly, though her eyes were sharp and her nostrils flared for the tang of biochemical changeover. For lust was driving them both, a need to fuck and dominate bone deep in every hyper-empowered cell of their body. One reason they didn't use time or a starter was simply that they both knew that they would, inevitably, move. They had to.

Not that either was currently in a maddening hurry... yet. Applejack had hit second puberty as a normal hyper mare, and Twilight was justifiably proud of her willpower and self-control. No, for now, they circled and watched each other; if somepony had asked, Twilight could have eagerly explained about body language, getting your opponent's intentions, seeing if some weakness or new strength. The history and the skill of it all.

And that's true, Twilight thought, but thank the Rainbows for multitasking. I can do all of that and leer at how pretty my muscliest musclebitch is. Yum. Fierce and yet somehow a glittering, almost goofy relaxed expression on her face and in the glittering green of her gorgeous eyes, freckles dappling over orange hide, and that sexy quirky smile that always looked like it should be holding a straw or otherwise chewing casually. Add that sense of lust, fun, and determination she was radiating right now, and Twilight had no problems telling why her clit was so hard it wanted to cut right through her leather bikini bottom.

Applejack's body had always been a wonder of power and gorgeously balanced deftness, a full-body workout from a lifetime of farmwork and combat training. She'd actually only grown a few inches when apotheosis had struck, but-- yum, yum, yum! --had she put on additional mass. Not just in those lovely muscles, of course. There was plenty of extra padding up front, and on the behind Twilight was planning on tanning red.

Redder, being orange. And speaking of padding… Twilight flashed a grin and threw herself forward just a few seconds before Applejack. Getting good, AJ-honey, she thought as Applejack tried to force obstructing tits and grasping hands past Twilight's guard. But I'm still getting better, faster. Twilight had seen Applejack's crease, her lovely little tell, and it was Twilight who determined which pair of oversized knockers would be going in straight (hers), and who would be left struggling, her pleasure-pulsing boobs shoving up towards her face.

"Enjoying the view much, broodmare? I know I am!" Twilight said gleefully as she flexed her pecs, grinding their massive tits together back over Applejack. She'd also grabbed Applejack's hands on the way in, and she had a firm grip on the mighty mare, if not a perfect one; she'd have preferred the wrists. She also licked her lips, groaning softly as her eyes bulged a little, the pure stimulation of holding Applejack double-braced electric in her bitchy, bossy pussy.

Applejack grunted, her hide going taut as her impossibly strong muscles forced back against Twilight's punishing grip. "Ah ain't… unf as fond'a mah own flab as you, pillow-filly! And Ah ain't as easily led by 'em none, either!" The last was snarled out as Applejack gave up on trying to match strength for strength with her larger opponent, but slid out into a low sweep as she released her half of the mutual grip.

"Finally listened to what Mac was telling you all these years, huh?" Twilight teased, though her face flushed with anger at the 'flab' comment. I take on some extra pretty poundage on top of the muscles! It's not flab! Despite her distraction, she didn't fall for it; unlike Applejack, she hadn't gone from stubbornly ignoring a larger brother's advice on being smaller to stubbornly misunderstanding why that self-same brother could still make one fall in three even after her ascension. Nope. Listened to my BBBFF, even if he is a LBBBFF now. She wasn't hooked and didn't try to scramble to maintain the hold; as a result, Applejack couldn't take her down from her own arrogance.

Neither could she follow up and reestablish the grapple, however. For a mare not used to wings, Applejack sure got the hang of rolling with them quick! Twilight slipped into a crouch, her huge quads bulking out to their terrifyingly beautiful mountainous proportions. Applejack made it back up to her feet out of lunge range-- or at least, safe lunge range-- and wiped some sweat off her freckled brow. "Hoo-ee! Ah guess them udders are good for somethin', filly." She spat to the side. "Ain't gonna do ya much if ya have ta wobble about rather than comin' at it fancy-like. Whatcha gonna do if some jiggly heifer comes and grabs that boob-obsessed boy, huh? Try an' talk it through? Shoot, ya ain't gonna be able ta keep 'im past griffon lands, an' then where's six years a'hard learnin'?"

Twilight was trying not to lose her temper. It helped that she knew Applejack… probably… didn't mean it. It also helped that Luna had repeatedly taught Twilight some fairly memorably "incentivized" lessons in the consequences of letting rage determine your tactics. "With both wings and an arm tied behind my back!" is not what you want to hear when you're being scissored by a cranky goddess who loves you enough to want to see you be a better warmare. But she won't… stop… pushing!

She knew her own tell was probably in full effect. Not the eye-twitching of her earlier days prior to Lesson Zero. But the early flame-like sparks that Celestia was sure heralded the growth of an empyreal mane and tail were already flaring, and her titanic muscles were bulging of their own accord, this way and that, her inner hulk pressing past the soft flesh of her thigh and ass, her plushy U-cups smashing together as the vast pecs behind them ground with her heartbeat.

Applejack, by contrast, was sweating, but had a mocking smile to match her mocking tone. Her body was loose but ready, just enough tension in her treetrunk legs and huge, burly arms to show off deliciously-- but Twilight was having problems not getting tunnel vision on that sneering snout. "Ain't got nothin' ta say? Figures. Cain't argue with facts, flabby filly. Yer unfit fer tha High Princess' tasks. Ah'm gonna enjoy teachin' that colt the Apple way. Ya think Princess Celly will get a fondness for apples, too, iffin Ah show her how much of a better student Ah am?"

It was utterly irrational. Completely! There was no way that beating her-- in a single match, not even bringing the ratio down out of triple digits in Twilight's favor-- would convince Celestia that Applejack was a better student of all things. The challenge… might have forced Celestia to permit Applejack to come along, but even then, the procession still required Twilight.

Maybe that was Applejack's intent-- cunning from the brutally, lovingly honest alicorn was hardly unknown, and her mercurial devotion expressed itself in odd ways. Maybe she was trying to get Twilight in a position where Twilight was forced to take her with them on their journey. Whatever it was, Twilight let out an enraged roar and began to leap and bound forward, and she almost hated the broadening smirk on her friend's smug face.

Almost. Not quite. Because she wasn't coming in stupid, no matter how much she looked like it. Good thinking honey! It's awesome, and I'm glad you're trying! As Twilight flung her amazonian body at Applejack, she was watching for the shift in those lusciously broad hips-- There!

There were any number of easy counters to the lunge Twilight was trying. Applejack opted to go with the Keep it Simple, Stupid principle and shifted her weight to move to the side. Probably to go for my back, Twilight thought. Of course, I also think faster than anyone except Luna or Celestia… The look of shock on Applejack's lovely face was unfeigned, and all the sweeter for it.

For Twilight shifted her own heavy hips mid stride at the last moment, and careened into Applejack shoulder first. Instead of presenting a clear target with the small of her back from above or the solar plexus from below, Twilight was able to hit Applejack dead on and off from the expected angle. Together, they crashed into the cables masquerading as ropes.

"Whooooof!" Applejack grunted as the air was knocked from her lungs. Ordinarily, Twilight might have wanted to prolong the fun, but the taunting had put her in a mood for a different form of sport. While Applejack was still recovering from the stunning body block, Twilight grabbed her arms and spun the heavy amazon around and up in a huge arc, trusting Applejack's reflexes to make sure that she tightened her wings in against her broad back.

Which she did; a good thing too, because the wordless cry Applejack let loose this time reflected Twilight hammering her down back-first onto the ground. "I'm not going to risk bruising those sweet titties you're carrying around for me," Twilight said coldly. "Those are mine to beat, personally you fucking little snot. I hope you were serious about wanting to go for a ride, because I do want to reward you for upping your banter game."

Her teeth flashed; it wasn't a smile. She'd slammed Applejack down, but had maintained control of the Princess of Abjuration's right arm, over which she was currently bent over slightly, with one booted foot resting against Applejack's right side. She had the arm in a bar and wrist combo, with her left palm pushing back against Applejack's elbow, her right hand grasping and twisting at the wrist. "One chance, lover. Tap out now or safeword. Or you're going for a ride."

Panting heavily, she couldn't help but inhale the deep, musky scent of Applejack all but cumming onto the mat. "N-n-no way, bitch!" Applejack yelped, and smiled fiercely up at Twilight. She let out a long moan that had nothing to do with pain. "Use me, boss. Please!"

Twilight scowled and nodded. Unlike Dashie, she knew she could trust Applejack to oxygenate right. Could trust her to let the play ride closer to the ragged edge, period, that soul-deep Honesty and stubborn integrity a beautiful gem. The part of her that was logical and pissed wasn't sure it counted as punishment, given how much the randy little amazon slut seemed to want it. The part of her that was horny and spoiling for a dominance display just didn't care.

The latter was the side with the direct line to Twilight's limbs, it seemed. She pressed with her palm, drawing another yelp from Applejack as she forced the continued hyperextension. Twisting Applejack's wrist with the motion, she scooped her big, stompy boots under Applejack's back, and-- careful of her wings anyway, flipped the massive mare over like she was a toy or sack of grain, slamming her deliberately down onto her pelvis, grabbing Applejack's other arm on the way down to force the flexible alicorn to hammer her broad hips groin down but not bruise the big boobs she reserved for herself.

However, what that did mean was that Applejack's immensely muscled and immense in general tush was brought down like a mountain falling from the sky-- straight onto what should have been hyper-ready battle plate. Snap! Crunch! The sound of metal shearing rang out over Applejack's next grunt and Twilight's snarl of triumph. "Shit!" roared Twilight. Her oversized, mega-muscled left leg snapped out to kick Applejack's left side hard to keep her stunned, and she hurtled the Alicorn of Abjuration to the side in a rough swing, the amazon's rippling body rolling midair, wings and juicy tits pinwheeling as she struggled to correct before hitting the ropes.

Scrambling over to where she'd smashed Applejack's lower body into the mat, she winced and knelt down beside the destroyed remnants of the beautifully made and wonderfully historically accurate thigh guard, the majority of it crushed into dust from the force of the hit. Twilight moaned, "Oh, Daisies!" Her horn flared and she re-assembled the piece, teleporting it out of the ring to prevent further damage. "AJ, sweetie, I'm really sorry I broke the guard-- I fixed it, okay?" she asked, turning in the direction she'd flung the other mare.

Which is when the freckle-speckled bitch elbow dropped her, right on the uppermost wing base! "Apology accepted, flabby!" Applejack retorted.

Twilight saw red. Oh, and blue, the mat color, but mostly an only partially metaphorical burning red. There was pain, with the sensitive, responsive cluster of delicate nerves and tightly knotted muscles being hammered hard by a deliberate concentration of Applejack's mass. Much more, though, was Twilight's pulse-pounding, eye-twitching, muscles tightening, teeth-clenching rage.

There are some maneuvers that wingless wrestling species simply don't have. Fortunately for Applejack's strategy for an earned loss, the former earth pony, despite her constant pre-apotheosis rivalry with Rainbow Dash, simply didn't think of her wings as objects to maneuver and vulnerabilities to protect. Twilight had learned differently.

The drop took her hard, but she was already kneeling; the force didn't distribute further, but she wasn't further disabled. As Applejack rolled out of the drop, Twilight braced her feet into the mat. Enormous muscles pumping and the twin heats of lust and rage blazing in a spiral from her core, Twilight twisted around, and before Applejack could maneuver fast enough, she pumped injured wing and whole alike into a reverse swan-slap to to the head and throat.

Those buffeting wings could have cracked the golems of the Last Redoubt; Applejack, they just stunned silly. "Filly, I know you did not just interrupt my apology and my appreciation for good historical recreation to elbow drop me," Twilight bellowed as she spun to her feet, clenching her hands together in a mace-like grip. Her fists impacted on Applejack's chiseled six pack, sending the surprised warmare staggering back and hunching over wildly, her huge tits bouncing off her own knees.

Twilight didn't stop this time. The giantess moved with lustful speed, loping towards her staggering friend and "playmate." With the smaller amazon full over forward, it was foal's play for Twilight to snap her burly right arm across from the left side of Applejack's head to under her left arm from behind, and to force her left arm through Applejack's wobbling cleavage to clasp hands together once more. She kneed Applejack carefully in the chest-- enough to daze and lightly punish those naughty knockers, but not to inflict serious pain, then snapped a foot at Applejack's left thigh, sending her downwards. "Hi! Wanna play a game, AJ? I call it 'Fun with Centripetal Force!'" she chirped with somewhat disconcerting mad cheer and a high pitched giggle out of keeping for her intimidating heft.

She didn't stop to wait this time, either; of course, it's not like she intended to actually give Applejack the choice, at that. She simply flipped the seven foot eight amazon up over her shoulder, pushing off with her legs to leap up and backwards to careen Applejack hard into the mat. She came with, refusing to let go of her victim-lover's neck-- the better to carefully cradle that against injury, and to prevent damage to the smaller alicorn's horn.

Her superior control let her slam Applejack with enough force to once more knock her silly, this time with less gentleness concerning the orange-feathered wings, her own weakened wing still throbbing. It also let her avoid a similar fate as her heels found purchase on the hard surface and let her roll, immense knockers wobbling wildly over to perpendicular on Applejack's body. One careful knee on Applejack's wing and against her hefty right arm, Twilight's gigantic right arm snapping out to hook her right knee from behind and yank up into her increasingly abused X-Cups, left arm falling like a treetrunk across Applejack's neck and pinning her right arm between it and Twilight's outstretched knee.

Then, to compound Applejack's humiliation, Twilight's horn glowed, undoing the flap for the leather left cup of her bra to uncover the peak of the mighty mound. Then, slowly, so slowly, she lowered her magnificiently mountainous mammaries right down across Applejack's cleavage-- and face, specifically grinding Twilight's fist-sized and extremely stiff nipple across Applejack's coughing mouth. Eyes wide with anticipation and a manic smile going ear to ear, Twilight sang out, "Open up, sweetums! Momma wants a word with you about overkill in social taunting situations!"

The pinned princess knew better than to try a bite on a nipple, as opposed to a muscle nip; instead, coughing and protesting, she simply tried to avoid the shoving nub. Both applebucking thighs strained uselessly; the captured leg unable to more than slightly jostle the titanic arm straining it into simultaneous knee hyperextension and groinal hyperflexion, her loose left slamming and pressing against the mat, finding purchase and finding it utterly useless to dislodge the half-crazed Twilight from atop her; a single attempt to slap up with her free arm snapped back by a half-swan strike from Twilight's unhurt wing.

Still struggling to get free or at least avoid being humiliatingly shoved into a nursing position, Applejack whined, "Aw, Twi, c'mon, a leghook? Ain't Ah good enuuujjhggllf!" As she'd pouted, Twilight and slapped her huge breast into place, her nipple forcing its way between Applejack's lips and Twilight's pillowy knocker smothering over Applejack's face.

"Oooh, nope, you're a nasty-mouthed little filly who disappointed momma twice!" said Twilight, half-growling, half moaning with delight as Applejack submitted and started to suckle like a hungry foal. "First, by going too far with your sass, and second, by being amazingly rude when I was trying to apologize!" The final snarl was met with Twilight shoving more of her heavy tit down over Applejack's face, blocking her nostrils completely and forcing her into a combination of desperate nursing to please Twilight and thaumic respiration, instinctively spasming elsewhere in her body to try to get free.

Twilight started to hump her juicy, broad hips back and forth as Applejack thrashed beneath her. "That's it, love momma's nip and I might let you get some pussy time before I put you out!" she told Applejack as the bulky mare thrashed beneath her. Her toes curled out behind her, and she indolently, arrogantly stretched out the thigh that wasn't holding Applejack's wing and arm trapped, leaving a trail of her arousal over the bright orange feathers. She licked her lips and purred, most of her rage-- but not her disapproval-- gone as she held her warmare-slut utterly and humiliatingly captive. Her thoughts, as ever, raced ahead. Not gonna let you go out yet, sweetie. Promised you a ride!

Giggling, Twilight shifted to get up, long, burly legs smoothly moving into a crouch. She didn't give Applejack a chance to do much more than mutter incomprehensibly rural curses, though, slipping her gigantic left arm over and around Applejack's neck, headlocking her with almost dismissive ease and fluidity. Her other treetrunk arm lashed between the orange alicorn's thighs and wedged in tight against the sopping, near-red-hided cunt.

She licked her lips, wriggled her toes, and with her eyes still in that strange, perverted fixed-wide gaze, she pulled Applejack up into the air. Standing with a clean jerk, Twilight pushed up out of her squat while flipping her captive subbie up and around so her wings and broad, potent back were trapped against Twilight's immensely strong shoulders. Twilight relaxed the headlock slightly, shoving one hand into Applejack's cleavage, the other squeezing and fondling with lewd roughness along the heavily muscled thigh, held imprisoned by Twilight's unbreakable grip. "Somefilly's going for that ri-i-i-ide no~ow!" she squealed, though it turned into a horny growl by the end.

"Shee-yit!" was the least weirdly country curse that Applejack let fly as she shook herself awake and tried to thrash off of Twilight's shoulders. In her half-panic and half berserk lust to find some way to get off, to serve her bossmare in aggressive obscenity, she even slapped out with the one wing not caught against the cliffy expanse of Twilight's shoulder-line.

It was useless; worse, it inspired Twilight, who had heretofore just been using the slightest pressure from the top joint to keep Applejack mostly in place. No, now, with Twilight giggling almost as wildly as Pinkie Pie, she began to slam her wings hard against Applejack's only other area of squishiness besides her giant, rapidly bouncing boobs: her tremendously suckable, curvaceously bubble butt.

Applejack gave up on words, gave up on productive attempts to get free, and just thrashed back and forth, squealing and hollering and gasping and moaning with equal intensity. Even as Twilight's rapid wingspanks left long red lines across Applejack's bodaciously bouncy booty, the squirming, writhing motion kept grinding Applejack's captive cunt against the muscular ripples of Twilight's potent arm.

And then Twilight started to spin. "So, we were talking about centripetal motion! It's time for rotation about my axis and the effects on your fluids!" she growled, but had a feeling Applejack wasn't listening. Despite the increased wind resistance, she kept wing-walloping Applejack's gorgeously spankable behind, and the combination was more than enough to bring her wriggling subbieslut over.

Applejack came hard in Twilight's inexorable grip, squealing all the louder, clinging hard to her mistress' burly arms, knowing the fate that awaited her, and loving every pleasure-blissed moment of the build up… the spin… and the lunge. Twilight abruptly stopped, and lunged off her feet, both tucking up at once and hitting the mat hard while she yanked hard on either side. For all her mad, lust-driven, feminine aggressiveness, Twilight was absolutely precise with how much force she used, with plenty of padding above what she felt Applejack could take and not be much more than severely battered.

But battered, Applejack was. She didn't have much time to adjust out of the postorgasmic and post backbreaker haze before Twilight slung her around again, the larger alicorn effortlessly whipping her around like-- well... A sack of apples. Twilight arrested Applejack's momentum abruptly, jerking her around when she got in front, and slid down onto one knee, her right upraised. Another fresh wave of precious air was knocked out of Applejack's toned and abused tummy as Twilight landed her down atop Twilight's mountainous quads, and administered a stinging slap to Applejack's already reddened rump.

Moaning, the captive mare gasped, "Mistress, please!" but Twilight was merciless, and spanked her thrice more.

Much of Twilight's rage was gone, and in its place was sternness. "Remember. You and Rarity hold my honor while I'm gone. If you'd been sloppy enough to push somepony too far without the ovaries and the power to back it up, she could have brought you fully around with maintained momentum, honey-- and somepony who's less adoring of those pretty tits might have targeted them instead." The warning about poor Applejack's boobs was accompanied by a stern pair of swats to the top of each fat, jiggling teat, deriving further yelping-- and a winking, submissive, almost squirting slit-- from Applejack's quivering body, amazonian or not.

Unceremoniously, Twilight exerted the barest part of the force contained in her heavy arms and shoved Applejack casually chest-down onto the mat. "Oh, and sweetie? That most muscular? I've seen better crabs in Trotston, if you know what I mean!" she said with a lewd whinny, and waited just long enough for realization to strike Applejack.

Not long enough to let the Apple alicorn squirm away, of course! As soon as she saw her lovely bitch trying to squirm away and onto her feet, Twilight arched her colossal left leg over, her own pussy damp and dripping onto her captive's wing and back. Mmm. She's down, fully under my control and still struggling. I do love this mare. Twilight sat down, pinning Applejack and her wings beneath the weight of her gorgeously squishy rump. "Feeling the muscles down there now, sweetie?" she chirped, "Or are you too obsessed with my flab?"

Yelps and squeals melding delight and panic were the only answer given. Despite the satisfaction, Twilight didn't entirely rest on her laurels or Applejack's boob-padded back; she casually snaked her gigantic left leg over her "victim's" right arm, and batted Applejack's squirming, flailing treetrunk left leg down with a light slap, effortlessly displaying strength and flexibility as she hooked her right leg across it and pulled back and down with precise viciousness. She didn't bother with Applejack's right arm, and the right leg, she just bent backwards with Applejack's bulky, tensing calf trapped under her gigantic left arm.

Which of course left Applejack quite pinned, and Twilight's burly right arm free. Specifically, the amazonian former earth pony was trapped with her beautifully built legs spread in a humiliatingly exposing trap, and her still-drooling pussy spread to the air. Twilight took a deep sniff. "Aw, honey, you do still love me!" she giggled, and thrust three fingers straight down into Applejack's waiting pussy.

Applejack squealed, clenching her cunt tightly around her dominatrix's fingers. "Y-yes, mistress, Ah l-love y-" She whined as Twilight removed her fingers and began to lick them slowly. "Mistr-eep!"

Twilight snorted, and flicked her tail in a warning flog over Applejack's cheeks, both sides. "I've decided that not only did that pathetic, wimpy display earn you only half a crab, you don't get to call me mistress, yet." She grinned. "Call me Lady Sparkle. 'My lady' will do, until you've earned your way back face first into my cunt." And you hate it when Rarity does that to you. Unfit for Celestia's purposes, indeed!

When Applejack was slow to respond, Twilight's clit throbbed with delight at the unexpected play, but her hand was fast to swat Applejack's upraised inner right thigh five times. Eventually, Applejack's squealing faded, and she submitted. "Yes, Lady Sparkle! Ah understand! Thank ya kindly fer th'correction!" Twilight squirmed, her own gushing marking Applejack's back thoroughly as she shimmied her rump and groin back and forth. Oooh, that's nice, that is.

Twilight grinned. "Good bitch," she told her well-pinned sub. "Now, relax your pussy for your Lady. There are rewards for being a well-mannered little broodmare, after all," she teased, gently but firmly capturing Applejack's clit between her forefinger and thumb, and starting to teasingly roll back and forth.

"Yes, mah lady!" gasped Applejack. A seeming impossibility, to both open herself up for obscene conquest and yet be under such constant assault by pleasure, the electric jolts of Twilight's expert clitwork demanding that Applejack squeeze down around a cock-- or more accurately, a fist-- that wasn't yet stretching her. It didn't take long, though; she was, after all, a disciplined warmare of the royal bachelorette herd.

"Such a good bitch," Twilight said smugly; still trembling, still groaning and wailing beneath her boss's butt, Applejack forced herself to become passive even in response to Twilight's constant ministrations. "Any last words before I break your naughty pussy for anything short of my mistress' fists?" A hollow 'threat'; Applejack's potent hyper-based body was waiting and willing to stretch, even if Twilight's own strange penumbra wouldn't force it anyway, but she did so like to play with her toys. I wouldn't dare, otherwise, at that.

The powerful, and yet nowhere near sufficient muscles on Applejack's divinely giant thighs stood out under the constant stresses Twilight was forcing on them, and Twilight giggled a bit when, despite her discipline, Applejack's pretty cunny winked in anticipation. Still, the warmare got her twat under proper control, and just moaned, "As mah lady wishes!"

"That's not really much of a last statement, but…" Twilight's toes began to wiggle in eager anticipation of triumph yet again, and she licked her smiling lips. "It'll do." She folded her fingers at the mid-knuckles, and arrogantly, almost idly plunged her half-formed fist into Applejack's upraised pussy.

The trapped bitch came violently around Twilight's hand before she even got her wrist in, but even those powerful walls squeezing and gripping with unrestrained passion couldn't bar Twilight's way. As she passed her thick wrist in, she curled her hand into a meaty, massive fist, and kept on plunging, flicking her tongue between her lips as though tasting the gushing femmejuices Applejack was fountaining up around her invading limb.

Twilight filled Applejack. Overfilled her, clenching her fist hard to make the tight wrap of interlacing muscles bulge out and force her silly slutty subby's cunt to stretch out good and proper. Part of that was, of course, as a dutiful dom, making sure Applejack's throbbing, stiff clitty was stimulated, but part of it was for the gorgeous view! With Applejack bent double and backward, the bulge in groin and belly from the pistoning, pounding fist ravishing all of the trapped mare's inner treasure stood out immensely. And I can trust her to tell me where her limits are, making playing with them all the sweeter. From the ever-increasing volume and pitch of Applejack's delighted squeals, Twilight was sure that her defeated sister-of-soul was enjoying the effects as well.

She curled her toes and let out a long moan of her own as she flooded Applejack's muscular back with her arousal, the excess dripping down over her cabled throat and onto the mat. Does it help, sweetie, that I've got you muzzle-first in a pool of my pheromones? I bet it does, my precious little musclebitch. Still flicking her tongue into the air to taste their mingled scents, Twilight began to pound her pussy against Applejack's trapped back, humping her, using her (as requested!), exerting her dominance and command over the squirming, creaming Princess of Honesty.

Applejack came, of course. She came endlessly. Twilight's expert oversized fist and forearm stretched her out, worked her over, and "punished" earlier presumptions with a world of untrammeled pleasure mixed with a carefully measured admixture of pain, right to her masochistic warmare lover's specifications. Twilight gloried in the sensation of Applejack writhing beneath her. Between her thighs. All that beautiful, beautiful strength and power, utterly submitting to Twilight's lusts and loins, forced into a submissive series of climaxes?

It was too much. As a final gesture towards verisimilitude, Twilight pumped her burly forearm as broadly bulky and as moistly deep as it would fit, and then she arched her own back, bending Applejack further and thrusting her own wings out to their full extension. "Unnnnnnfff! Oh, AJ, yes! Yes! Oh, AJ! My pretty little broodmare yes!" Twilight's cries of delight drowned out Applejack's squeals as the larger alicorn reached a fevered peak. Nonetheless, she had to be careful; there was only so far she could press her thighs together or grind Applejack's voluminous, battered breasts against the mat. The last time she'd really gotten to enjoy an orgasm full-bore with anyone except the astrals had been more than two years prior, but this certainly got her edge off!

Eventually, licking her lips and letting out a near-feline purring growl, she pulled her massive fist out of Applejack's well-stretched cunt and and pulled it up to her lips to savor the taste of her well-fucked friend. She released the smaller mare's strained leg from under her right arm; the muscular limb dropped weakly to the floor. Nevertheless, still lapping her right hand and forearm to claim all of Applejack's honey, Twilight kicked up and lifted herself bodily off the mat with just a single hand, flipping Applejack around and up as though juggling the massive amazon hands-free.

She caught the stunned warmare too, right between her thighs yet again. Twilight let herself fall backwards and down onto Applejack's legs stretched out beneath her, trapping Applejack's left arm against her groin, with her left leg claiming obscene triumph through Applejack's cleavage and around to hook over the smaller mare's upper right arm, while her right leg pinned Applejack's wings tight before hooking around to lock against her left calf.

As Applejack started to squirm weakly once again, Twilight curled and flexed her feet, gasping with pleasure. Then she squeezed down hard over Applejack's torso, rolling slightly to the side and trapping both of Applejack's legs under her left arm, cooing, "That's it, little serving slut! Maybe you can earn your way back under your lady's muff!" She emphasized it with a fresh flex, grinding Applejack's sweat-dripping body between monstrously massive expanses of cabled muscles, squeezing the defeated mare tightly.

Applejack's moaning got a little weaker, rapidly replaced with intense little pants and grunts. Twilight was concerned, especially given that Applejack wasn't tapping out at even the first tier submission. As strong as the lovely scent of the warmare's arousal was, Twilight began to relax the scissors. "Aww, Twi!" whined Applejack, and Twilight's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Her response was harsh, snapped out immediately, "Don't you aw, Twi me, missy! If you were really low down, you'd be begging your mistress or your Lady like you were told!" Twilight was furious. "Your safety is my concern, Applejack! I have to trust you. I thought I could trust you to go down deeper than I permit Dashie!" She didn't unhook the hold entirely yet, but she did slacken further. "You'd better give me a damn good reason, or not only am I calling scene end, but you're banned from my bed and my thighs until after I get back; no cross the border visits or 'my herd sense was worrying--'"

"Ah wanted ya ta put me under an’ out ‘til mornin’, Twi."

"What?"

At that, Twilight unhooked her legs and slid back from Applejack. Rage crossed Twilight's face, mixed with real fear as she effortlessly flipped to her feet. No, no, Tartarus no, I don't need this right now-- is something wrong, have I damaged her? Apple Honesty, that’s what she’s supposed to have, that’s what she is! Twilight's mind raced, but before she could say anything, she saw Applejack's face.

Weariness, and tears.

Applejack rolled over onto her front again and got to her hands and knees. She didn't get up, and she only met Twilight's eyes once, then hung her head low. "Ah know," she said softly. "But…" Twilight tilted her head to the left, and waited. There was hurt beneath her breast, yes, but this was her AJ; she deserved to be heard.

Swallowing heavily, Applejack coughed, feeling her way to an explanation, staring straight at the mat, not even at Twilight's size twenty-two and a halfs. "Ah haven't been sleepin' proper fer a month, boss," Applejack whispered softly. "Not unless it's been you'r Luna drivin' me down. Ah know you're the best of us. Ah know we've trained Hopper an' he's an okay colt. But." She swallowed heavily. "It ain't jes that Ah'm gonna miss ya, boss. Twi. It ain't been safe even in Equestria, with us around!"

Eek! Twilight thought. Boss from Dashie is as good as a mistress; boss from AJ means much, much more. Twilight sighed and sauntered over. "Oh, AJ," she said softly, and knelt down, sitting her rump back onto her boots and cradling the bowed alicorn's head gently into her lap. "We have to do this, love." She stroked her fingers through the mane of the surliest, stubbornest of her lot; even Rarity knew when to bend. But I guess that's it; this is family; we're a family. And AJ's lost that before. Pain enough to break even the Princess of Honesty, just a little.

Applejack leaned forward into Twilight's stroking hands. "Ah know, sugarcube," she said softly. "An' Ah know why no country wants three alicorns, one a youngun or not, an' a dragon waltzin' in the borders." Indeed not, a numb part of Twilight responded mentally. Considering that a pair of us really could topple a country. Not that I'd want another, but... Whether or not Applejack was precisely thinking along the same lines, Twilight couldn't say, but the acknowledgement seemed clear.

Applejack smiled weakly. Twilight could feel AJ’s muzzle move against her thigh. "Ah want ta be there ta see th' three of ya off t’morrow, but Ah jes don' wanna be frettin' all dang night," Applejack said. "Sorry, boss. Ah got stupid; wanted ya ta put me under an’ sleep ‘til then."

Twilight glowered at Applejack. "And thereby you were disrespectful and cruel to me, and my consent too! Rainbows light and dark, AJ, you're precious to me, too, you know?" She wrapped her arms tightly around the smaller mare, smushing her huge tits down across Applejack's head and back. "I'm so sorry I didn't notice, but honey, Honesty honey, you have to tell me these things. Pinkie Promise me! For that matter, I want a damn Pinkie Promise you'll tell Luna if you're feeling anything even like this while I'm gone!"

Grunting, Applejack wriggled a bit, and Twilight let up from the boob press, at least for a moment. "Do Ah gotta do th'whole thing, boss?" Twilight growled. "Fine, fine, sheesh, ya don't gotta fuss so much…" Oh yes I do, Twilight thought, glowering. Because she'll hold you to it.

Applejack went through the motions so far as Twilight would permit, and managed to successfully complete the eye maneuver which Twilight admitted did occasionally still give her trouble. Sighing, Twilight nodded. "Okay. So," she grunted and glared again. "I am still horny. And cranky, missy. If I promise that I have a way to make you sleep the sleep of the submissively just, will you be able to get back into my lock, or am I gonna have to chase you around the mat again?"

Applejack rolled a bit further, onto her back and onto the mat. She gave Twilight an insouciant grin and winked. "Kin Ah call ya mistress again, an' none a that lady kerfuffle?"

Hands on the blossoming curve-masses she called hips, Twilight glared. "I shouldn't let you negotiate, but-- fine! This once." She reached down and stroked AJ's mane again, caressing it closer and closer to the proud orange spiral of her horn. "So here's what I'm going to do, sweetie. I'm going to reverse jackknife you, and you're going to hands-free eat me out." A broader smile twitched along the edge of my muzzle. "Since you're a pouty-pants about practicing your magic, you will be frigging me with your telekinesis, too. Clear?"

"Yes'm."

"Good. So. I'll cum a few times on your naughty little face. Which we both know will mean you'll be cumming too, like the little squealer you are. You will not be getting as many of my orgasms as the other girls did." Twilight reached one broad hand to her immense ass and squeezed her sensitive cutie mark. "And you will only get to lick my butt out and masturbate me to one climax. That's your punishment; Ready for the offer side?"

Applejack began to pant and heave, her gravity-squished-to-the-sides mega-wobblers rocking back and forth like captured jelly, fingers slowly trailing down her rock-solid six-pack before jerking back, not even touching the upper expanse of her wild pubic hair before stopping herself and nodding. "Yes, mistress."

Twilight quirked an eyebrow, licking her lips. "See, little cunt? You can behave. So. Final round. I take that last guard from you as my prize. You know I keep it, and the repaired one with me, just like the panties you and the girls offered up last week. Then I smack your silly, disobedient ass redder than it is now," she snarled, her muscles tensing out. Her kneeling squat was pushed forward as her calves tensed and her toes forced divots into the mat; her quads grew like time-lapsed mountain ranges forming. Her six-pack was battleplate; her arms, vast redwoods. Applejack whined at the sight, and her obedient sex openly drooled in awe-- as did her mouth.

Twilight continued, holding the display "Breasts, too, and this is your offer: you're permitted to take that punishment and not banished from my sight and then…" She breathed out, forcing herself to relax. "Then, you horn submit to me and I put you under a very precise sleep spell. That is the maximum. Do you accept? Be exquisitely clear, and enunciate."

Applejack's smile had returned, neither cocky and swaggering nor a veil to hide her strain. Open and honest as she always should be, she nodded, speaking slowly and carefully. "I understand and accept. I will be used for fewer orgasms, because I violated trust, but because we love each other, you'll still punish me rather than sending me away," she said softly, then shivered. "Then you'll grant my request, on your terms. I accept, Mistress Twilight, and thank you so much." Without having to be ordered, she pressed her vast shoulders into the mat, hulking arms out wide. With intense agility and perfect might, Applejack rolled her legs up, her hyper-controlled muscles permitting her to present into position for the jackknife.

Laughing softly, Twilight stood, shucking off her leather panties and putting them on the ropes nearby. She beamed down at Applejack, hiding her still-worried heart. It shouldn't have come to this. I'm going to need to ask Luna to watch out for my dear one, and make sure Rarity knows to keep her challenged and feeling loved. All she said aloud was, "Excellent. Mmm, you are an eager one, as ever. A pretty self-made work-out throne, all for me."

She sauntered over to Applejack, putting extra swing in her extra-broad hips. She exaggerated her turn, shimmying as she planted her huge feet past Applejack's muscular arms. Her pussy dripped, like a teasing water "torture" mixed with her exquisite sense, for, flexing and posing her massive legs on the way down, Twilight shook her groin in little twitches, covering Applejack's face in her scent. Her giant arms caught and ensnared Applejack's upraised legs, those mighty limbs subordinate by gift and indeed by nature to Twilight's much stronger arms. Her knees pinned Applejack's upper arms with care, and as she held her still-drooling cunt inches from Applejack's muzzle, she flexed, her sixty-inch jormunganic pythons trapping and squeezing the Princess of Earth's wide thighs and by extension, her surrendered body in the reverse jackknife.

As promised.

Twilight wriggled her toes out behind her in anticipation. Her clit throbbed in horniness, uncaring of its mistress' cares, and she admitted to herself, I can trust Applejack's word even beyond a Pinkie Promise. Let's just relax and let us enjoy each other. Two years is going to be a long time to not get to ride this exquisite muff diver's face. Still, she'd studied, and she knew that the anticipation was important, and the posing, verbally as well as bodily, vital. Grunting with satisfaction, she purred, "Got you trapped, my pretty broodmare. Are you ready to service a true warmare's twat?"

Applejack's first response was to struggle-- not to try to break free, but to give her mistress some firm resistance to press against, like a good throne. Her second was to bend her long muzzle up as far as she could, and make a few submissive little licks against the conquering thighs that towered over her face. "Yes, mistress," cooed Applejack-- to Twilight's bemused delight, in her "Applejewel" tones. I can work with this, thought Twilight.

With the usual terms of a match thrown out, Twilight's horn flared once more and she gathered up Applejack's mane braid, pulling the defeated sub up while she lowered herself down. The same magic began to tweak Applejack's huge, fat nipples and lightly tease her sensitive areolae. "Such a gorgeous broodmare. I really must look into finding a good stud to breed on you," Twilight purred. Which is what we're planning on, but.

As Applejack let out a demure meep, Twilight closed the distance, forcing her snatch down over Applejack's muzzle. "That's it. Lick good and deep, my pretty little jewel-slut," she ordered, "And maybe I'll make sure it's somepony nice and strong, so you can get good and fat with pretty warmare and warstud babies for me to train and spoil." She telekinetically paddled Applejack's sore bottom as she teased her love, and was rewarded in turn by Applejack's desperately skilled slurps and licks, the submitting mare's tongue drilling deep into Twilight's demanding pussy. The captive mare didn't neglect the critical use of her finger-dexterous upper lip, either, worshipfully petting and stroking over Twilight's clit.

It didn't take long for the promised climax to cum like rain all over Applejack's already well-marked face. The sheer exhilaration of completely owning such a strong, giant mare, of riding her face like the well-trained toy she'd become, of completely molding her body to fit Twilight's lusts-- it was incredible. Add that to the tremendously skilled tonguing her clenching cunt was receiving from Applejack, and the pleasure was overwhelming.

She didn't remain alone in delight for long; not with her pheromone-laden musk and female ejaculate covering Applejack's face, invading her nostrils by scent and forcing the compelling taste down her throat. And for Applejack, too, the position was pleasure paradise, though a Tartaran heaven. Her desires, so hot and tumultuous below her proud and forthright surface, to be ravished and owned by a superior in body and deed, were utterly satisfied. How could Applejack refrain from volcanic climax, squeals muffled by lavender thighs and a dark purple muff?

She couldn't. And her pleasure was all the greater for her utter inability to budge Twilight at all, even in the fullness of release, her thrashing utterly contained by Twilight's amazonian power. Even her broad torso was locked in place, held fast by Twilight’s unyielding grip-- save for the wobbling bobble of her bouncing breasts.

Twilight had her way with Applejack. Not just her face, no, though Twilight's aggressive hip-grinding was nearly as active a partner in fucking Applejack's face as Applejack's pleasuring tongue was at adoring Twilight's inner folds-- not quite long enough to reach her G from this angle save for a few straining flicks-- but oh, my, yes, Applejack was intensely good at finding and fulfilling the desires of other secret pleasures, and making the most out of those lovely, brief moments. And her clitwork was a practiced wonder all its own.

No, Twilight enjoyed that but she didn't stop there. Her telekinesis "abused" Applejack, slapping rump and tits, roughly pleasuring her nips and adding an extra squeeze or two to the massive yet utterly conquered thighs. Nor was her telekinesis the only way Twilight ravished Applejack's legs; the flexing motion of her gigantic biceps and bulky forearms squeezed and fondled the trapped limbs even as Twilight pulled her forward into the jackknife. Twilight couldn't entirely let herself go, not after Applejack's lapse before, but she was reassured that Applejack kept palms-close to her thighs in case a tap-out was necessary.

It wasn’t. Twilight’s precise control of her well-used sub’s buff body kept Applejack utterly entrapped and entranced beneath her slit, and Applejack's loving tongue and squirming body well-satisfied her mighty muscle mistress. Finally, Twilight judged that Applejack had been permitted to get her off enough, and wrapped the orange-hided alicorn in a swirl of magenta magic. She gently released her pin and used her magic to unkink her captive's body, standing to her full eight feet again and letting out a satisfied sigh as she folded her hulking arms above her head and played with her single-striped mane.

She strutted off and away from the dazed Applejack, turning to look back with a loving smile. "I'm going to miss you too, my jewel of an Apple, sexy subby slut and finest shieldmate of which I could dream," Twilight said softly, still playing with her mane, posing, flexing first the left bicep, then the right, and then back; shifting from one taut leg to the next, showing off broodbearing hips and thunderstorm thighs alike. She giggled a bit as Applejack tried thrice to speak, and simply couldn't manage it, raising up a single thumb in acceptance.

Still laughing like some strange combination of cavemare and schoolgirl, Twilight swept Applejack up from the floor, her treetrunk thighs captured in the crook of Twilight's overwhelmingly unstoppably muscled left arm, dangling her like a toy. The cute little meeps just made Twilight's cunt clench and wink for the final round, but Twilight still wanted to play first. She unstrapped the thigh guard that hadn't been broken; removed Applejack's belt, warmistress buckle and all, and hovered the rebuilt guard over, reaffixing them together with practiced magic-- playtime with her girls did tend to get rough, after all.

Slowly, Twilight hovered the claimed set down in front of the upside-down Applejack's eyes. "I'm going to need you to speak up again, sweetie, sorry. You attest and avow that these are my honorably claimed trophies of triumph over you?" she rumbled, her toes beating time with her pulse onto the mat, her tongue flicking along her broad-smiling lips as though tasting Applejack's surrender on the air with her pleasure-musk.

Applejewel tones gone but ensnared sextoy mindset remaining, Applejack groaned. Her taut tummy flexed her abs as-- Oooh, my, she's creaming! She must really have needed this workover-- she quivered in Twilight's grip, and she moaned, "Yes, mistress. Ah surrender them to you, as you have taken mah honor under yer hand once more."

"Good girl. And do you know what your face is going under now?"

To Twilight's lust and fascination, Applejack came again, just from the threats in her hormone-addled state. The limp warmare wimp squealed, "Under mah mistress' ass! Right where Ah belong!"

It was Twilight's turn to be wordless for a moment. She reached down to easily lift Applejack up in her arms, cradling her friend, lover, and complete captive against the magnificent mountain range of her rack, squeezing the whinnying, climaxing submissive close before laying her out gently on the mat once more.

Twilight's brain rebooted, and she gave a low, lusty chuckle. "I am so pleased with you, lover," she cooed, and went down on her knees again,waist straight and up for the moment. She patted the mat between her femmecum-slicked thighs and smiled. "Come on under, baby. I want to see you crawl for me. Crawl under the slave's passage, then roll on your back with your wimpy little arms on my calves. Oxygenate up, and I'll sit on your face and punish your naughty boobies. Won't that be nice?"

She wasn't sure whether Applejack climaxed again, or if it was merely a continuation, but the sexy strong hyperzon rolled over and writhed like a wriggling worm before her mistress. Huffing and puffing with extra exertion, she narrowed her shoulders as best she could to push through the unbreakable pillars of Twilight's heavy-thewed thighs, squirming around and pleasuring her mistress' pussy one last time with her stiff-held wings. Finally, she rolled around onto her back, her arms splayed and spread out to either side. "R-ready, mistress!" she grunted, hyperventilating and oxygenating as commanded.

Squish. While it would not be fair, in fact, to call Twilight's jiggly ass flabby, since the pert buttocks maintained a gorgeous shape, there was a large amount of plush to ooze and spread over Applejack's face. Her tail flicked lightly, teasing Applejack's hornbase as that lovely, well-trained tongue wriggled its way into Twilight's well-cleaned asshole, lovingly licking and teasing at the taut muscular ring. The begging, pleading laps did their work, and Twilight's sphincter loosened, permitting Applejack deep access to adore the anal passage as she had so often before.

Twilight grabbed hold of Applejack's huge boobs just as the analingus-focused mare remembered to wrap her mistress' clit in the green glow of her magic, adding by relatively crude but certainly ardent adaptation the pleasure that her lack of a Fluttershy or Pinkie-length tongue missed. Twilight had some mercy, and rewarded Applejack's memory by holding off on the promised tit-abuse for a bit, just stroking and squeezing the sensitive flesh with long, strong fingers. She alternated as Applejack's tongue swirled deeply into her ass, switching between caressing the pleasure-center laden titflesh, and teasing the fat nipples with deft, lightly-pinching fingers.

But that mercy could only last so long; a pouting submissive tongue deep in one's ass is not actually as fun as it might seem at first. Before Applejack could even miss it, Twilight began to steadily spank and swat her horny slut's mega-mammaries, abusing them with a careful aim at making sure pleasure always exceeded the sting, let alone the pain, for all her masochist marefriend might have preferred a little more. Applejack's fresh series of spasms beneath Twilight's conquering thighs-- which had nothing to do with the restriction of her air passage to the little Twilight's ass crack permitted-- told Twilight that her ministrations were appreciated, nonetheless.

So, too, did Twilight's silent fascination break. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her face flushed. As much as she might get a stronger physiological reaction from having her G lavished with tongue, short of being dominated by her own mistresses, there was little Twilight enjoyed more than having her big ol' booty prenched out by a skilled tongue, and Applejack's frequent challenges meant that she had been given plenty of opportunities to become quite familiar with what pleased Twilight's rump.

Rocking said rump and hips back and forth, quicker and quicker, her clit throbbing into the emerald embrace of Applejack's magic, the latest orgasm hit like a tidal wave. "Ah, ah, ah… Applejack!" Twilight squealed, and bit down hard on her lip to force her to keep her thighs rigidly in place. As exquisitely ecstatic as the anal-induced orgasm was, Twilight felt that Applejack had lost the right to feel even a faux-crusher.

That said, she did create a massive magenta phallus, knobbly-surfaced and just the right spot between pliant and stiff to stretch out Applejack's already creaming cunny, pushing her lover to a further orgasmic height right along with her. After all, she knew just how delightful a well-trained lover's hapless tonguing could be in the grips of such sensory overload; quite aside from the delightful repetitions upon her own twat, when she'd serviced the Grand Sun Booty on several occasions, the same techniques had been used to an even greater extent on her!

Eventually, however, Twilight reluctantly called the fun to an end. Applejack's ass had paid its forfeit during the jackknife, and she'd put enough red on orange tits for the moment. Twilight would not permit Applejack the easy way out to sleep beneath her rump. Surrender, that was her apology for violating Twilight's consent for the scene and scaring the daylights out of her.

To her credit, Applejack didn't pout when Twilight stood up and moved away from her this time. She just groaned and rutted against the absence of the vanished force-phallus for a few moments, before re-lighting her horn to thoroughly wash her mouth out. Twilight smiled. "Rainbows and Astrals all, you're hot when you're helpless, Applejack."

Applejack laughed weakly and struggled onto her knees. "Uh-- actually, mistress?"

"Twi, now, honey. I want you to have my name on your lips when you sleep, and when you wake up to see me off tomorrow."

Applejack grinned weakly. "Twi, Ah, uh-- Ah need a bit of help gettin' to mah feet. Ah'm afraid somepony left me all a-noodly," she explained.

"Flatterer," Twilight replied, but sauntered back over, kneeling down to pick Applejack up and cradle the smaller mega-mare into her arms. "Maybe you don't need to be standing, after all," she sniffed.

Applejack blinked. "Ah… don't have th'slightest clue whatcha mean here, Twi, Ah really don't."

Giggling, Twilight rubbed noses and exhaled into Applejack's nostrils; the sweet little mini-giantess laughed herself and blew a snort back. Twilight smiled, bouncing on her heels a bit and cuddle-squeezing Applejack into the pillowy expanse of her heavy knockers. "You don't need to know, love. Ready for your nap?"

Nodding rapidly, Applejack limply squirmed around, crawling a bit to pull herself onto the top of Twilight's titanic titties, her arms and rump dangling over her lover's arms awkwardly. Twilight laughed, and touched her horn to Applejack's; instantly, magenta and emerald light swirled in a swiftly turning helix. "Submit to me," Twilight said softly.

Applejack did, closing her eyes and letting go of the last of her nervous resistance to arcane magic, despite the several years now of having a horn herself. Twilight gave a soft, satisfied little rowl, licking the inside of her cheeks as she extended her power into Applejack, body, mind, and spirit enveloped in purple power. Slowly, Applejack's breathing slackened; her eyes fluttered shut, and her orgasm-relaxed muscles went further limp.

Soon, with the lewdly used farmer princess cuddled close to her chest, Twilight teleported herself, her prize, and her panties to Applejack's room. The spell was tied to the positions of the sun and moon as well as a precise timer, making sure there was no chance Applejack would miss Twilight's get-away. She tucked Applejack into bed, giggling quietly at the apple-print comforter. "You're so adorable," she whispered, and kissed her naked lover on the forehead before 'porting her prizes to her room, and slinking back into her panties.

She felt herself up, gave herself a quick pheromone-scrub spell, and made sure that all of the flaps on her outfit were sealed. Twilight popped out of Applejack's room, but not to her destination.

Instead, she took a quiet stroll, taking her time to look over Friendship Castle's crystalline, oft-confusing walls. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered, and felt the castle's semi-sleeping spirit murmur back to her. It had waited a long time to grow, and had the patience of the inanimate about such tiny things as a two year trip elsewhere.

Soon enough, she reached the door she was looking for. This time, I'm not waiting to be tracked down and have my rump swatted by a rude little sub, Twilight promised herself. I'm taking this to her, head on.

Although theoretically only the senior of the juniors without any true call or right to have invasive privileges over the other Elemental Princesses, Twilight had long ago resigned herself to the occasional usefulness of the fact that all of the other five insisted that she be granted complete and untrammeled access to their wards, locks, and property. It's almost cute sometimes, she supposed, and right now it's useful.

Just as her hand turned the knob, the door opened. The smell of her favorite tea, just coming up to boil hit her first, and then the sight of Rarity made her stop and blink. "Wha…?" Twilight asked as she saw her dignified, ladylike musclemare friend and often most wiley submissive, kneeling, face and horn planted on the ground in a pose of surrender no less complete than Applejack's for all the distance from Twilight's well-tongued ass. Wearing an exquisitely designed, expertly tailored, and raunchily slutted-up Prench Maid outfit.

"Ah, mistress," Rarity said happily, sliding her bulky body back until her frilly-adorned but otherwise quite bare butt touched her high stiletto heels. She pressed one demure hand up between her jiggly H-cups as they bounced around, apron quite revealing her aroused little nips trapped in Twilight's own magical nipple-clamp faux-piercings, adorned with Twilight's cutie mark on little weighted pendants resting upon her apron. The other remained on her thigh, in waiting. "Right on schedule. How may your obedient slut serve you, my beloved princess and owner?"

Well. That's… different.

Chapter 6 - Rare Satisfaction Part 1 (Rarity)

Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, third most mighty of mega-amazons on Epona, looked over a scene of domestic tranquility.

Sexy domestic tranquility.

Stylish, yet comfortable chairs were set up to one side, in a quaint little nook around a small, transparent-surface table. Subtle whorls created texture and optical illusions alike, without being too garish.

The chairs were set up to easily transition to a solution much like Pinkie's, supporting a sub beneath without discomfiting the ass of her mistress. The table was magically enhanced so that a slut could get a good pounding on it while having the curves on it stimulate back, belly, or tits, or whatever was planted on it.

The tea smelled excellent. A wondrous first flush darjeeling, Twilight's favorite. Rarity was done up in a most seductive Prench Maid outfit, with lace teasing around everywhere, even her fetching headpiece. Twilight was not surprised the lace's swish matched that of the table. Ridiculous twelve-inch stilettos with sharp pointed toes forced her potent calves into stark relief, trapped within long stockings with the same frills where the edges of Rarity's muscular thighs poked out to either side of her demure little apron.

The apron already damp with a scent as delicious as the darjeeling. Twilight's eyes narrowed and she planted her broad palms on broader hips. Rares is the trickiest of the bunch, she knew. What's she planning?

The quiet lasted, but Rarity finally broke it with a question. "Mistress?" she asked hopefully. "Do your slave's preparations please your aesthetics?"

Twilight's nostrils flared. "Preparations for…?" she replied.

"For me to serve and service you, of course, most beloved mistress!"

"I have reservations."

"Mistress never needs res-"

"Rarity."

The muscular mare sniffed distastefully and smoothed out her frilly apron. "First, if it pleases mistress," she said with a boob-bouncing huff, "your slave would prefer to leave that name and its pretensions behind."

Twilight cocked an eyebrow, and made a dismissive tilt of her broad, powerful shoulder. "Fine. Precious. I have suspicions."

Rarity pouted demurely, with only the lightest lip wobble added to her tit bobble. "But mistress!" she cried. "I live only to serve!"

Twilight glared. Then grinned, and grinned wider when she saw a lovely shudder up Rarity's bustiere-tightened udders at the smile. "You can prove it," she nickered, and slowly pumped her left arm into a tight curl. She slowly licked the massive sixty-inch peak. "Can't you?" She winked, and nodded when she saw the grateful smile on Rarity's face. Then she sneered. "Whorse."

The gratitude grew, though it was swiftly replaced by an artful look of horror and shock. "Mistress!" wailed Rarity. She backed up, agile hands waving in frantic warding gestures that just so happened to be those that would set a temperature cycle for the tea. Her panting and quivering made Twilight's clit throb enthusiastically; but it was the wafting scent of her dear friend's alicorn arousal that made her truly comfortably, truly eager for the scene.

Rarity didn't want to fight. Had no protest or insecurity. She just wanted to be deep down in subspace as Twilight's prime Precious bitch. To be humiliated, forced, and ultimately fucked silly.

Twilight couldn't wait to feel her fashionista friend submit beneath the purple plush of her princessly thighs.

Time to earn my cunnilingus receipt! she thought cheerfully. And analingus and muscolingus and pesilingus.... My Precious doesn't just give good head. She knew the intense, hyper horniness showed in her eyes; Precious took an unplanned stumble backwards, smacking that taut, toned tush into her dresser. Good thing we reinforce our furniture.

"Don't you dare protest, cunt," Twilight snarled. "What is your game? Drugs, in tea? You're lucky I don't throw your ass to Mistress Sun and tell her you've been adulterating stock."

Precious screamed in true, high-pitched broodmare fashion. Utterly at odds with the mighty, chiseled maretriarch's frame under her pale, well-groomed hide, but indicative of how she wanted to be treated. With much wailing and wriggling and jiggling and flexing, Precious frantically and perhaps slightly overdramatically panicked, whining, "I promise, Mistress Twilight! I've been a good slut! Your tea is black, hot, and nothing but tea and water! I didn't even masturbate while making it!"

Twilight sneered. "You can prove that you're obedient," she reminded Precious. "The leopard-print, I think. Since you've been so suspiciously evasive."

Shuddering, Precious placed the back of her hand to her hornbase and tossed her head back, wings plastered in close. "Oh, cruel mistress!" she yelped. "Not the leopard-print."

"Leopard print," Twilight repeated, and tapped her lip. Then she smirked. "With orgasm denial, I think. On command only." She sniffed, and drew herself up to her full eight feet of height. Cracking her knuckles, flexing her immensely potent muscles, she strutted into the room, outrageously oversized hips swaying back and forth. The squeeze of her gigantic quad sent the fat of her super-curvy thighs grinding over her leather panties, and the casual bulge of her giant arms moved in perfect time with the pump of her rump.

She loomed over the panting Precious. "Well, slut?" she growled. "Are you mare enough to prove your obedience? Or should I just break you the easy way, and make you drink your own tea!"

Shivering, Precious's trembles bobbed her stiff nips and faux-piercings up against the leather cupping her mistress' superior melons. She cleared her throat, swallowed, and found herself speechless, groaning as marejuices meandered down her proud thighs-- once-proud, but mere sticks compared to the near-perfect amazon gams her mistress had. Finally, she summoned her courage and curtseyed.

Or tried, and found herself trapped face-first in Twilight's tits, just in time for a face-battering bounce of the huge U-cups. Twilight flexed a little bit extra, bulging her pecs out behind her absurdly lush mammaries, just to make a point, then let Precious go. Finally, groaning, Precious forced her pussy into discipline, and unfolded from the curtailed curtsey. "M-mistress," she whimpered. "I… I will obey!"

"Good," Twilight said, then grabbed Precious' ass for a lewd squeeze. "But not good enough, slut. You took too long. That means you have to have a contest with me, just like everypony else." Her lips curved into a smile, and she bounced back from Precious, rocking on her heels excitedly. "But not a wrestling contest, wimp! You have to pose. Most marely mare wins!" She grinned even broader. "You also don't get a shot at the top. But I tell you what, I'll let you skip the leopard-print granny-panties if you beat me."

Precious' face got very Rarity-esque. "Mistress," she said with a warm, throaty chuckle, "I stand about as much chance of beating you in a posedown as dear sweet little Dashie does beating you at arm-wrestling. Less." She clapped her hands together repeatedly. "I love it! How shall we judge, and what shall we pose?"

"In reverse order," Twilight explained, "The Big Four-- biceps," she squeezed Precious' with firm enough force to leave little red marks on the white skin. "Boobs," and here she smacked Rarity's tits from left to right with the back of her hand, "Butt," which was followed by spanking the 'poor' (caught on the edge of breaking her pussy discipline and cumming) mare on the ass, "And thighs."

Of course, Twilight spanked Precious' thighs as well, 'beating' her most cruelly before whispering, "You'll be judging, slave. Because we both know you'll be nearly as honest as Applejack, if only because anything else would make me furious." She flexed her own thighs a bit, purple plush going taut as the super-muscles beneath bulged with casual immensity, then tapped Precious on her sensitive nose. "You may thank me by cumming your broodie little brains out, slave."

So Precious did, with obvious relief. She collapsed forward, all pretensions to ladylike dignity or even a servant's aplomb gone as she squealed into Twilight's giant left teat. Cumming hard, her brain teasing her twat almost as much as Twilight's firm hand-- her left of which was indeed frigging her pretty slave through the climax. As she groaned and shimmied, her white-hide-clad muscles bulging with enough power to set even Earth clan maretriarchs greener with jealousy, she looked like a small, delicate thing in Twilight's arms.

And so Twilight treated her for the moment, cooing lightly as she stroked between Precious' wings, cuddling her safely close to her U-cup titty, and thrusting her thick middle finger deep into Precious' spasming slit. "That's it, baby," she whispered in Precious' flicking ear. "Cum it all out." Her pointer finger joined her middle in pumping Precious' pussy expertly. "Who knows when I'll let you cum next? Maybe I'll leave instructions that you can't cum until you've gotten AJ to the mat three times… in a row!" She chuckled, and tugged on Precious' ear with her teeth, watching and feeling and smelling her beloved friend climax… from just the promise of what she planned to do to poor Precious.

"Well, to be serious a moment, honey," she said when Precious finished cumming, and pulled her fingers out to taste the Princess of Nobility's quim-fluids before kissing her fiercely. "AJ's feeling pretty bad. I know you'll both make sure that Flutters is petplayed to her dear heart's content, but I need you to badger AJ as much as you can. As exhausting as it'll be, I'm counting on you to keep her in shape for this year, baby." Twilight kissed Precious full on the lips again, and shared Precious' own sex-taste with her, tonguing in deep. "Can you promise me that?"

"Whu… huh…? But I have to be white after labor day! Dyeing is so tacky!" Rarity groaned, then shook her head clear. "Er, sorry, darling." She pecked Twilight on the cheek. "I'll be a positive burr in that perfect pumped tush, I promise."

"Thanks, Rares-my-Precious," Twilight said with a laugh, then gently straightened Precious back onto her feet, brushing off her shoulders. "Ready to try your hardest for me?"

"Always," Precious promised, and Twilight suspected she wasn't a bit surprised when Twilight flung her arm around Precious' elegantly muscled neck and headlocked her over to Precious' sartorial station, and all its convenient mirrors.

Dear Mistress Twilight, Precious thought fondly. As intense a Lady as one can get without being permitted into the presence of the Astral Princesses. And-- as good a submissive as she of course knew she was-- the lusts and loving of the Astrals was, perhaps, just a tad much for day to day jeu du coeur.

She hummed-- well, moaned in vibratto, it did not do to break character-- to herself as she was dragged over to be displayed, to display, to contest, and to lose to her mistress. They touch the heart too deeply, she thought, shuddering a bit and clamping down on the rebellious surge of pleasure in her nethers. Touch the heart too deeply for it to be truly play. The memory alone almost broke her, and she'd just been treated to a lovely fingering, after all!

Precious found herself hauled up in front of the mirror, the taller, more massively built and far more massively curved body of her mistress looming behind her. "You first, pet," growled Mistress Twilight in her ear. She gasped as her mistress took her ear, like a stud prodding the broodmare Precious pretended to be, and twisted back.

So she obliged, of course. "B-bicep first, as you c-command, Mistress Twilight?" she asked, and pitched her voice with just the right tremble.

It wasn't entirely feigned. Mistress Twilight is so delightfully forceful! she told herself, and bit her lower lip to stifle a pleased sigh.

"Ah!" she yelped, feeling her mistress' stern palm on her lace-clad left buttock. She didn't dare rub, and her mistress hadn't the mercy to do it, bless her lovely instincts.

A snarl that left her knees almost weak enough to fall sounded in Precious' ear. "You know it," rumbled Twilight as she shoved her huge bosom against Precious' wings. "Now get to it, slut!"

Slut, perfectly appropriate to the role shouted by the costume after all, a clinical, Rarity part of her trilled, but her Preciousness was focused on performance. She marefully gave it her all, standing tall, feet the proper spacing apart, torso tilted back into the lovely cushioning of Mistress Twilight's right tit. Now, the pièce de résistance, Precious…

Curling up her right bicep in front of the mirror, Precious was proud of the work she'd done on the outfit. Quite aside from the self-repairing enchantment, should her mistress decide to be brutal (one could only hope!), the lace and prench stylings a perfect accentuation to her-- in other company, quite prodigious!-- curves, with no sleeve to speak of. The shoulder, tight enough to display her feminine might, but loose enough to permit a full range of motion-- such as this!

She showed off as best she could. Her mighty fifty-inch peak, blessed upon her by Ascension, much to dear Applejack's disgust-- Not cheap gaining at all, she thought huffily, That blasted farmer got sorcery, didn't she?-- swelled high and proud. Though in terms of absolute lifting, her former earth pony friend was the mistress in both technique and capacity, Rarity had dutifully studied the arts of lift and pose alike. She was thus similarly proud of the poise of her fist, the bulge of her forearm, and the elegant balance of the mighty bicep itself.

All for naught on this field of contest! she thought cheerfully, though of course, she kept a fearful pout upon her muzzle. Slowly, behind her, the giant mass of Mistress Twilight's delightfully dominating sixty-inch bicep rose. Her pose, equally as good. Nay, Precious' heart told her, most sternly, she is superior in all things! The shadow of it overwhelmed Precious' offerings, outlining her white tightness in the royal purple.

"Well?" Twilight asked impatiently. Each tap of her size twenty-two-and-a-half feet sent her huge breasts jiggling over Precious' back and wings. Each jiggle slapped her fat nipples across Precious' taut muscles, or battered her elegantly preened feathers. It was lovely.

Precious swallowed down her fear of failing Mistress Twilight. "I must confess, Mistress," she nickered softly, wanting so badly to turn and tuck her muzzle under her mistress' jawline, "That if I were to jud-- Eek!"

Smack went Twilight's hand on poor Precious' abused rump again. Thankfully, this time, on the other cheek. "Don't cheat, slave," Twilight warned. "You may know your puny 'cep, but you need to measure my peak."

As Precious started to move towards her tailoring paraphernalia for a cloth measuring tape, smack went her mistress' hand again. This time, Twilight went horizontal, crossing Precious' delicate crack from toned cheek to toned cheek, stinging on her existing redness so delightfully. "M-mistress?!" yelped Precious.

"Measure, bitch," Twilight growled. "With your tongue." In the mirror, Precious saw her mistress' purple horn bob as Twilight tilted around to wink at her.

Ah, Precious thought. I do love her whims so!

"Your slave apologizes for her shameful incompetence, Mistress," she cooed, letting her arm relax and turning. She curtseyed, again, alas foregoing another dip into blessed lavender-hided darkness to avoid wearing on her mistress' forbearance. "Might I request that you dip slightly, to help your poor puny bitch reach for meas-oooohhhh…. Mistress!"

Her wail was the only lapse in discipline she allowed herself, steeling her eager sex against prohibited release. The temptation that her mistress inflicted upon her was merciless. The gorgeously mighty Princess of Friendship dipped into a lunge, massive, curvaceous, potent left leg out back, showing perfect extension, whilst her right curled and flex, plush giving way to the triumph of unstoppably ferocious quads. Precious wanted to take a holomemory spell, and whimpered a wordless plea.

Blessed is my mistress' generosity! Precious thought as Twilight nodded and winked again. Precious' horn flared cornflower blue, just briefly, and she saved the sight for later inspiration while coming up with more proper adornments for her lady.

And absolutely tip-top wank material, of course!

Twilight schooled herself to avoid a relieved sigh. Rarity would never be dishonest about a challenge, of course, but she could be… tricksy… if she felt she wasn't getting quite the domming she deserved. Twilight knew, for example, that she couldn't give Rarity's cute little horn a nice sucking, or she'd be treated to Precious brattery of a kind that, while fun to punish from time to time, she did not have the energy for right now.

As it was, just getting into the mood and mindset to actually bully one of her closest friends was hard enough, and she damn well knew it got Precious' nips and clit harder than said horn in the first place. Hard enough, after years of domming them all, after years of having an alicorn's needs drive her. Not to say there aren't perks, she thought as she let herself have a big, smug smile.

It was in character for mean ol' Mistress Twilight, after all, to be so smug about her trembling little prench bitchmaid slurping and sucking all over her big, tight bicep. And it was lovely, right down to her juicing pussy, to watch a trembling amazon abase herself, worshipping Twilight's muscles, as was proper. To feel that strong tongue lap and massage with a precision and skill that only her Precious really had, for all that Flutters' and Pinkie's were longer. Add the sucking kisses and hot breath over moistened hide…

Well, it was no wonder that Twilight's pussy was nearly cumming in anticipation of feeling that expert mouth and mistressful tongue for itself!

But she denied herself for the moment, watching Precious' ass, Twilight's property and freely given thus, wriggle and sway in the mirror. Precious' well-groomed tail, tied with a lace ribbon in a fetching bow, was flagged, displaying her pretty, twitching pussy for Twilight's perusal. Whoops, time to be mean again, she thought wryly.

"I can read your cunt like a book, slut!" she growled, and loved the feeling of Precious' yelps and whimpers into Twilight's 'cep. As in, I'm having a great time looking, but I want to get my hands on it personally… "Don't you dare cum before your owner and better gives leave, no matter how big of a whorse you are for big, dominant muscle mistresses!" Too much? she wondered.

She'd forgotten there really wasn't such a thing as too much for Precious Rarity, as long as the topics remained on the green list, or even most of the yellow. Little groans and squeals and, "Yes mistress, no mistress, I wouldn't dare, mistress," repetitions escaped Twilight's lovely subbie's lips against Twilight's lovely-huge muscle.

All the fun, Twilight thought cheerfully. From a wetter Precious pussy to tighter flexes on those beautiful, well-defined quads and calves, everybody won. Twilight got a great bicep-massage and a fantastic show, and Precious got to feel nice and pummeled.

Alas, all too soon, wriggling and licking must be ended. Twilight put on her game face sneer again, and snarled, "Haven't you finished measuring yet? Or are you just hoping I'll miss it if you micro-climax?"

"N-n-no, Mistress Twilight!" wailed Precious. "I mean, yes, mistress, I've finished. Your magnificent bicep is so much bigger than my poor, wimpy, chicken wing!"

Chicken wing, Rares? Twilight thought with a mental sigh. No such thing as too much in your overacting either, sweetie? Oh well, since it makes you happy… She swatted Precious' ass. "First loss, slave. But you have three more chances to beat me… Tell you what, if you can be as marely as I am for even one… I won't make you pile on the whorsish eye shadow too!"

A yelping Precious was adorable. A yelping Precious leaping up into the air so her fat H-cups bobbled all over the place was hot. "No, mistress, please mistress, not the clumpy eye shadow!" screamed the smaller mare, shuddering.

Twilight got into character all the way and growled. "You dare?" she sniffed haughtily. "Fine. A forfeit per loss!" She watched Precious's corded throat swallow heavily. "Yes, that's just the thing. You're stuck with the leopard-print grannies now. Next loss is super-heavy eye shadow… and then… hot pink lipstick!"

Whimpers, pleading, lovely squirming and sexy begging… but no safewording. Ooh, Twilight thought. My pretty white mare wants to go all the way. … Wait, shit! I need a fourth thing! She snorted disdainfully and leered at the quivering prench muscleslave to buy herself time.

Can't be streetwalker pumps, she's already in twelve inch stilettos. Can't be faux-piercings, she's got them on already. How can I… Twilight grinned evilly, and Precious quailed all the further.

"M-mistress?" she asked, the stutter far less feigned.

Twilight slowly licked her tongue from one side of her lips to the other and back. "And finally… if you fail to outpose me four times in a row…" she threatened, thinking, And we both know you will, even getting to 'judge' by licking whatever I tell you to… She turned, stood, and grabbed Precious' chin, pulling her muzzle close. "If you fail four times in a row, I'm teleporting back in the fishnets from last time," she breathed. "Yeah, I didn't let you throw them away."

Precious froze. Her voice dropped lower, and her lip began to quiver as her eyes widened. "No," she gasped. "Not the stockings with… holes in them!"

Twilight gave her best crazy laugh. The sort of laugh that spelled "Smarty Pants for All, And to All, a Good Hexing."

Well, it should have. Except that now, as then, she only really managed a soft titter while her eyes bulged and her ears bent at odd angles.

Bless her heart, Precious managed to stifle her own laugh, and cowered, trembling.

Trembling, Twilight told herself as she leered at Precious' pretty, shaking wings. Definitely not paroxysms of silent laughter.

"Anyway," she growled, making Precious leap back to standing-cowering that set curves and muscles quivering much more nicely, "Those are the stakes. But first…" She gave her best unholy smile, and that got Precious' knees and arousal-dampened thighs knocking together behind her frilly apron.

Licking her lips, Twilight strutted forward, her huge breasts leading the way as she deliberately overpumped her arms and legs, bulging her muscles out dangerously. "The leopard-print granny panties!" she roared at Precious. "Immediately! And to punish you-- while you're still forbidden to orgasm, of course-- no turning the clitstim on!"

Actually, sweetie, Twilight thought, as she bit her lower lip, groaning with the beauty of watching Precious' hind end waggle in the air, tail flagged, it's my mercy, and we both know it. Twilight wasn't just stronger and better at magic; she had better body discipline too. Of course, since Celestia demands it… I don't have much of a choice.

My love! she wailed mentally, and even Precious' lace-clad ass only barely kept her mind focused. I'm going to miss you even more than the girls! She resolved to really put Precious through a damn good topping, just like her mentor, lover, dominatrix, and goddess had slowly ramped up doing to her. A sacrifice in your honor, beloved.

There were the awful things now. Tacky, bright, shiny leopard-print pattern… granny panties. Thick enough to be obvious under most clothing-- deliberately, at least the lines of it-- and utterly unflattering.

Not to mention s-o-o-o tacky! Precious thought with distaste. Thankfully, that distaste itself, being humiliated and forced against her chosen aesthetic… Delicious.

That, and the magically-activated clitoral stimulator and inflating butt plug. Those definitely were more aesthetically pleasing… when her mistress (or that rude Applejack, on occasions when she achieved dominance and the whim struck) chose to use them on her, of course.

But still, that meant she had to put the blasted things on… and there were all sorts of shades of humiliation and degradation, even for a perfect submissive such as her Precious self.

"Mistress, must I?" whispered Precious, and she yelped yet again as Mistress Twilight let out a snarling nicker. Not waiting to further push her mistress' forbearance, Precious hastily untied a few of the lacings on her apron, stepped out of her enormous stilettos, and began to step into the terrible things.

She made a show out of it. Her ass, flagged tail and all, and vulnerable, juicy pussy was exposed to her mistress, but of course! She knew, though, that unlike a stallion she was hypnotising with those treats, her mistress wouldn't just be satisfied by her pink's presence. No, Precious slowly flexed from calves to quads as she raised her first leg up. As she stepped into the Awfulness of the leopard-print granny panties, she swished her hips slowly, displaying just how much her mistress' cruelty affected her!

(Very well, thank you very much)

Slowly, she planted her foot back down onto her heels, pushing her calf back up. Then, trembling, wriggling, wishing she could masturbate, let alone climax, she did the exact same again with her other leg. Muscles and elegance and sheer lewd horniness, all on display for her mighty, leather-clad mistress.

Reluctantly, she pulled the the panties up, letting out an undignified grunt as Mistress Twilight slapped her ass. Or rather, slapped the end of the plug just when Precious had it positioned, sending the the expandable toy in deliciously rough to Precious' well-trained ring of muscle. "Filled," she moaned, and realized that her mistress had actually gotten her low enough in subspace to say the half-protest out loud.

And it's never a good idea to protest that one is filled when one has an item which expands ensconced in one's asshole, she knew. Especially when one's mistress is in a Mood.

"Not nearly, slut," growled Mistress Twilight. "Filled, is it? Not nearly or hardly enough." She fingered the dial on the plug's base, and it began to rapidly inflate. "Let's set this to Big Mac. I haven't seen him fill you since he got married."

Nor dear Fluttershy's Bulk Biceps since he's been on assignment to the south, Precious thought wistfully, and sweet Keezy hasn't been bringing any of his buffalo studs home to share with his mistress' poor, neglected pussy, let alone her hind end, which makes it wise to mouth off, in a certain sense, after all.

Nonetheless, she knew it certainly was unwise to say those sorts of things, since she had no wish to be slapped into a chastity belt and sensory deprivation rig until the farewell proceedings.

Instead, she whined and whimpered and wriggled, begging and pleading with her harsh mistress. "No… no… I can't take it!" she cried, loving every moment of having her anus stretched to accommodate a most inconceivable girth. The fact that when it reached dear Macintosh's eight inch diameter she'd hardly be able to make a move without feeling its rigid protest… Why, that just makes it all the sweeter.

"You'll take it, slave," Mistress Twilight growled, and reached around in front to remove Precious' faux-piercing from her clit. There was a brief rush of sensation as the clamp was removed, swiftly replaced by the clitoral stimulator attached to the front of her panties. Precious' eyes nearly crossed from the sensation of her stiff little clitty being marehandled about by her mistress, and then whined again at the numbing feeling.

"That's right," her mistress growled. "Punishment. No stim for you until you've earned it!

Precious was rather relieved, actually; it made her mistress' awful command to avoid orgasming easier. Again, I daren't say so, or she'll go the other way… Precious swallowed heavily, panting and trying to get her center back.

Mistress Twilight stepped back, and grinned. "Now, let's see," she nickered, slamming her well-padded left hip against Precious' ass as she walked away. This not only left the muscular maid-mare flailing and wheeling, but shoved the expander plug in against unstretched areas of her ass like an overeager stallion. "Tits out, slave. Pull those laces down and show off your mistress' property and we'll get to posing. Why, maybe if your udders are good enough, you won't have to wear the clumpy eye shadow!"

Tongue slowly licking at her lips, Precious obeyed. Her arms, muscular as they might be, were agile and flexible. She was easily able to undo the first few laces of her broodie-styled corset, then flick her hands around front to show off the curvy, perky prominences of her thick-nippled H-cups. Said nipples being adorned with Twilight's cutey mark, of course, the faux-piercings seeming almost tighter for the lack of balance against the numbing field below.

"That's good, baby," Twilight cooed. "Maybe you'll get a third puberty and end up something other than flat as a board!" she teased, making Precious' white hide flush red from muzzle to the tops of her breasts themselves. Her breasts were far larger than most normal mares could aspire to, and decently heavy in the hyper community.

Among the Princesses, she was the second flattest over first puberty, let alone second. A bit of real wist struck her mind at the comparison, and she scented her own arousal-- and her mistress'-- as the humiliation struck home. After all, dear little Flurry Heart would probably inherit her mother's bosom in adulthood, if Rarity was any judge, and Rarity hated being anything less than an overflowing symbol of true maredom.

Nonetheless, this was her one chance to end up slightly less tackily whorsish than her mistress had in mind. And while Precious was soaking the awful leopard-print from just how much she delighted being forced into tackiness at all, it might be nice to reclaim some dignity. After all, breasts were a symbol of maredom, period. The flat As on an athletic normal pegasus could be just as beautiful as, say, Nurse Redheart's heavy G-cups… and hopefully, Precious' own alicorn H-cups could compete with her mistress' unadorned U-cups.

Oh, who am I kidding, she thought dryly, and firmly forced her mouth to cut off any attempt to drool before it began. Slowly, sensuously, smugly, Twilight Sparkle was taking off the custom leather bra that Rarity herself had made for her. If Precious' arms were muscular, hers were titantically superb. Of divine-among-divine strength, a faint echo of the Astrals' own ultimate muscularity. And she, too, had that same incredible dexterity, her jormunganic arms wriggling like the super-pythons they were, making her heavy melons, mammary mountains, shake and bobble as Precious watched.

Before Rarity's ascension, the first time she'd branded herself Twilight's Precious bitch was when an aroused Twilight had stripped off shirt and bra, just like this. With her pheromones filling the room, the jiggle was literally hypnotic. All Precious wanted to do was just drown herself in watching that motion, of purple plush perky enough to be of perfect form, yet sagging just enough to bobble with every bounce.

Mustn't! she warned herself, steeling her considerable will against even the thought of kneeling before that nipply roll and maretriarch's wobble. Mustn't give in, or mistress won't push me further!

Twilight reached over and took Precious by the chin. "Pose, baby. Not kneel," Twilight said, then chuckled. "I'll tell you when to kneel. For now, you know the drill. Show 'em off. Let's see if you can make something of your…" She ducked her head down, tapping Precious' horn with her own as she inspected Precious' chest, pretending to be unsure. "Breasts, let's call them."

Precious pouted, harumphed… and obeyed. She flung her head back, tossing her mane about between her wings, and planted her hands on her broad hips, out to the side. She swung her chest forward, bobbling her hefty knockers into the face of her far-curvier mistress. Tightening her abs just so, she showed off her beautiful, lush pair, letting the light reflecting off the mirrors outline her white hide.

Twilight smiled, and kissed Precious on the lips. "Alright," she said with a laugh. "They're noticeable-- and nice. But remember-- you have to measure mine. The proper way." Precious gave a shy blush, and nodded.

Still, it was to Precious' credit that she held her pose, proud as any mare could be, when Twilight struck the same. Broader hands down onto far broader hips; bigger pecs behind a bigger pair of magnificent mammaries. Twilight's immense U-cups jiggled and bobbled forward as Twilight's stance tightened, but Precious wouldn't call it mass alone that made Twilight's chest more magnificent.

Even if Twilight's were five times as big as poor Precious'.

No, Precious thought as her eyes met Twilight's, waiting for permission, It's not just that. She was proud of her perkiness; only Luna, truly, was perkier. And Applejack's were even bigger than Twilight's, among the elements. The metadivine perfection of the Astral Sisters' racks were, of course, out of the contest by virtue of being so far beyond the younger alicorns as to inspire awe. Jealousy wasn't even an option.

Twilight nodded, and commanded, "Measure now, pet."

Precious sighed with distress. Well, happiness, but she made sure to play up the distress. She leaned in across her mistress' substantive bosom, and began to slowly lick at just the base, nuzzling and lapping over the supple purple hide. She sucked lightly, rewarded for her excellent lip and tonguework by her mistress' happy groans-- even once a small, shuddering climax that set Twilight's tits battering Precious' face.

She loved it.

Precious kissed more and more, licking with frantic hunger. Twilight's huge rack had some sag to it; enough to make the jiggle clear. There was something… some element of perfection, a reflection of Mistress Sun in her prize student-subbie, that just made Twilight's curves luscious. No one could resist them. Well, gay males and completely straight mares, Precious supposed. But it was said that Twilight's pure fertile excess even made those hardwired to lust for males at least feel good that so much magic and healthiness were reflected in a goddess-princess of their world.

Even if I couldn't bear Mistress Sun's disappointed look if I said the word goddess outloud, Precious reflected wryly. She made sure to lick top, side, and underboob with thorough worship, anyway, provoking another orgasm from her mistress' sensitive tits before burying her face in Twilight's cleavage.

Twilight shoved her licking lips down further, though, and wrapped her heavy melons around Precious' horn. "I know I said measure, and meant lick me off," Twilight grunted, "But I'm so fucking horny, Precious!" she cried, and gave up on the pose too.

Precious' eyes crossed again. She whimpered in real panic now as Twilight crossed her huge arms over her fat tits and squeezed them over Precious' horn. Squeezed, and fondled herself, jiggling the heavy U-cups up and down. I can't-- she thought, then let out a soft cry. Her face was still mostly in Twilight's cleavage, but her muzzle was poking out that bottom. "Mistress!" she wailed, her horn's sensitivity driving her mad with pleasure. Driving her to re-soak arousal-soddened panties, and for all her discipline, little flares began to light up and down her boob-braced spire.

Twilight grabbed Precious' horn by the tip, huge fist squeezing with delicacy while her thumb rubbed over the blunt tip. She pulled Precious' face out, and before Precious could catch her breath, Twilight smiled and said, "It's okay, baby. You can climax like the little whorse you are. Just remember, when you do, I'm going to put the eye shadow on for you while you nurse at my nips… and then I'm going to beat your tits like you deserve for losing like such a slut."

Precious sighed with open happiness. "As my mistres commfmmffs!" she said, cut off as Twilight plunged her face back into the waiting purple cleavage. This time, her mistress left a few inches of the top of Precious' horn free, and began to suck on the tip. The swirl of her mistress' tongue, nearly as expert as Precious' own, was the final straw.

Unable to stand on her own, but held captive by Twilight's booblock, Precious fell forward. Her muffled cries and shuddering moans were captured by the same soft loveliness that squeezed her poor horn so. She grunted, pumping her hips back and forth and muscular legs up and down like the lewd little cum-smuggler streetwalker that Twilight was tarting her up as, pussy gushing as her orgasms hit.

Orgasms plural, in the sense that her horn was shooting up into Twilight's hungry mouth, the magic swallowed by the Princess thereof, even as her cunt and core clenched in response to the overwhelming teasing and hornjob. There was no sense in resisting, not when the numbing field was off her clit and the pressure of the stimulator's hold nearly as good as when the field would be on.

"I've lost, I've lost, my bosom is nothing before your magnificent breasts!" squealed Precious when Twilight decided she'd cum enough. Precious' only warning was Twilight yanking her head out again, but it was enough. After a few more messy bursts of illusions towards the ceiling and pussy-juicing right through her leopard print panties, she was able to regain control of herself.

She'd need it. The smirk on her mistress' face was terrifying.

Twilight felt her grin spreading and her eyes twitching lightly. "That felt so good, Precious!" she purred, and then reached out to grab Precious by the throat. "Still gonna paint you up nice and slutty, though," she cooed. "Just like you deserve."

Whimpering, the weaker amazon struggled lightly, her hands tugging and pulling at Twilight's potent forearm. All useless; Twilight was as much stronger than Precious as Precious herself was stronger than a normal pony… at least. She yanked, carefully, sending Precious tumbling forward and twirled, locking Precious' head under one arm and dragging her to the makeup stand. "Eye shadow, bitch?" she asked imperiously.

Precious gasped, "Please, mistress…" and cut off promptly when Twilight growled. I'm so horny! So horny! she thought, and bit her lower lip to avoid a panting fest that would have been most disappointing. Horny or not, she couldn't have done it if the threat hadn't sent Precious halfway to cumming unbidden again. She gets off on the weirdest stuff… I'm going to have to crossreference some of my notes while I'm gone and I can't distract myself with practical experiments. Speaking of practicals!

An obedient flash of blue summoned Rarity's makeup kit. Twilight took the compact in her magenta field, and Precious closed her eyes obediently. The dominant side of her just loved the little quivers and panicked cries that Precious made as Twilight painted thick layer after thick layer of clumpy eye shadow on. She was, of course, careful to keep it to the lids only and not even a mote out of place, let alone on Precious' well-groomed eyelashes.

That said, Twilight thought as a wonderful idea struck. She purred, "There we go, nice and pretty like a no-herd broodie out to see if they can get a stallion or futa to take the edge off, maybe earn a bit or two while you're at it?" She leaned down, and tugged hard on Precious' ear before whispering, "I'll make your night, whorse. I'll put on a nice big strapon, animate it, and fuck your throat until you choke… then the eye shadow will run too!"

Precious' wail of fear, humiliation, and utter arousal was music to Twilight's ears.

This time she resisted the urge to laugh evilly. It hadn't gone over well last time. Instead, she hauled Precious around in the headlock and whispered, "I didn't forget about your tits, baby. Promise. Do you want something extreme, or just smacked around?"

Precious swallowed. "Mistress has every right to treat her…" she said, then stopped, looked at the eye shadow in the mirror, and her lower lip quivered for a moment. "Her tarted-up meat as she wishes, of course, but her Precious bitch is, um, probably a little too close to cumming without leave as it is." She nosed submissively at Twilight's obliques and nickered. "A few smacking on your slave's naughty, substandard knockers, perhaps?"

Twilight stifled a giggle. That was Rarity-Precious speak for, "Harmony, mare! If you push me much further, I'm going to simultaneously cream my brains out and turn into a pile of subspaced out goo." She smirked, and hauled Precious up to her full seven-foot-eight height before yanking her back against Twilight's huge breasts. "Let's play a little pattycake!" she chirped with dissonant cheerfulness, and began to swat Precious' gorgeous, but not gorgeous enough, melons around with her broad palms.

"Patty-cake," SMACK, "Patty-cake," SMACK; "Baker's mare…" and so it went, leaving Precious a whimpering, drooling wreck yet again. And yet… and yet this was Twilight's precious, and drooling, quivering, and super-stimulated, she was still there, still strong and ready-- still wanting more. Twilight kissed her gently on the cheek and whispered, "Love you, honey."

The red blush on Precious' cheek was brighter than Twilight's palmprints on her H-cups. "I l-love you too, mistress," she grunted softly, gasping as Twilight gently rubbed the smacked sites out with tender care. She wriggled around in Twilight's grasp, her breasts still freed from their lacy support. "I did mean to surrender and just give you a nice quiet tea-and-head session, I promise…"

"I know, honey," Twilight whispered back. "I knew early on. But tell me the truth: on our last night together for a year, isn't this more fun?"

"So much, darling mistress! So very much!"

Twilight laughed happily and released Precious. "Okay, sweetie," she said and cupped Precious' sexy rump, rubbing the lace back and forth with a thumb. "Bend over and show me that ass before I make you eat mine out." She winked. "Oops, I mean, measure mine, for the judging."

Precious smiled a bit cheekily and kissed Twilight's throat before turning around and stretching a bit. "I hope mistress will allow her slave to worship-measure her breadth and not merely her depths!" she replied before leaning forward, unbound tits flopping wildly, elegant hands heading for her toes.

Twilight sighed happily. There was a lot that was beautiful about Rarity. All of it, in her opinion, either at its best when she was at her craft, her specialty-- at that which combined her heart and her talents. Seeing Rarity's diamonds rise high, part-covered by the leopard print, but utterly uncovered by her flagged tail reminded her that one of those specialties was being a pretty Precious submissive fucktoy.

She's got such a pretty ass, Twilight thought wistfully as Rarity posed, flexing her glutes to pump the taut, toned cheeks over the vastly expanded butt plug. Makes me almost-- but not quite!-- wish I had a dick, just to fuck that tight hole and make those taut cheeks clench around me.

Said cheeks were, in fact, clenching, muscles and just a hint of plush caressing the plug as though Big Mac were indeed giving her a nice, loving ravishing. "I wonder if Sunburst and Starlight could be convinced to DP you, honey," Twilight nickered. "Wouldn't that be so lovely?" She shamelessly rubbed her fingers down into her leathers, fondling her plump lips.

Precious whined. "M-mistress," she groaned. "Would you really whorse me out to your friends and colleagues?" she asked, eyes downcast at the floor.

Twilight couldn't see her face, but given that her gush renewed even before she started talking, Twilight figured Precious would just adore being whorsed out like that, in fact. She smiled and spanked Precious' ass, hard, across the plug. She licked her lips as Precious quailed, and nearly lost her climax control right then and there.

Nah, Twilight decided. I don't need an extra or a replacement to own that ass. Here she is, as utterly my slave as can Safe, Sane, and Consensually be until-- unless, but until, harmony willing, we're married and have an alicorn stallion of our own to file that sweet little cabinet caboose. She groaned, and started fingering her clit as Precious continued to tilt this way and that, which made both her muscular quads and her lewdly displayed tush show off quite nicely.

Speaking of showing off… Twilight cleared her throat. "Enough lazing about, slut!" she growled, and began to unsnap her panties. Precious let out a gasping, tongue-curled whinny, and finally, it was too much for the cunt's cunny. She creamed, mid-way to her feet, and in a flash, Twilight was on her. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear… Can't hold your slutty little pussy at all, can you?"

Poor thing, Twilight thought as she "viciously" tweaked the clitstim on to half power at once. She stepped out of her leathers completely as Precious turned and dropped to her knees, begging for forgiveness in Prench. Goes with the outfit, Twilight decided, as she put a foot forward for Precious to kiss and suck on. If the poor bitch is going to lose her pussy discipline, I might as well get to enjoy her begging.

Twilight was personally of the opinion that no one gave better head than Precious, save perhaps the Astrals. And when one of those Sisters deigned to eat you out, what they did to you was so far beyond head, so dominating even when between your thighs, that even another alicorn couldn't be compared. Precious' genius wasn't limited to just pussy-licking, either. Give her an inch of dickflesh, the tiniest corner of a tit, or even other erogenous zones-- Like feet, Twilight thought-- and she could bring you to orgasm within moments.

Which Twilight did, of course. It's not like she was under discipline; she just usually liked edging herself. Getting a nice quickie micro-climax while one of your dearest friends and best bitches abased themselves at your feet… Well, there was just no point in putting off a delight like that.

"Enough," Twilight growled after finishing her enjoyment. "Such a fucking failure. You'd better have a means of apology far superior than giving your owner's feet her due."

Sigh. Mistress is rather harsh about this, Precious thought. She didn't really feel too ashamed at cumming against orders. It gave her mistress a chance to abuse her further, and who wouldn't want that? More, Precious knew she was no match for a Celestia-trained and Luna-tutored super-sub like Twilight's Sparkle side in the first place. Not that she wouldn't try her best, but when she failed, she did like to look on the bright side.

What she means, Precious thought wryly, is what would humiliate you more than tacky make-up, horrible fashion faux pas under your carefully arranged slutgear, and then threatening to fuck your face until you choke delightfully. Unfortunately… I'm already most of the way there!

That was part of the problem. The whole 'maid' ensemble just wasn't going to work. Which was fine! She, and presumably mistress, were having a grand time. But the transformations to her aesthetic that her mistress was demanding were already fairly expansive. She sighed, held one hand vertical and the other topping it to make a 'T.' "Oh dear," Precious muttered. "I'm afraid I'm going to need to call 'zu viel,' mistress. Not, I assure you, from disappointment or fear."

Twilight stroked Rarity's muzzle. "Oops," she replied, blushing a darker purple. "Too much?"

"Well, I do have a feather boa somewhere," Rarity replied. "And perhaps a trashy wig could be improvised." She toyed with her long, styled mane. "With an extradimensional space inside. But…" She huffed, frustrated, wings flapping.

"But it's not really the extreme we want," Twilight finished for her. The muscular Princess of Friendship reached down and pulled up her kneeling friend, cradling Rarity against her heavy melons. "Sorry, sweetie. I can back off, if you like? Or we can reset to tea."

"Don't you dare, darling," Rarity huffed, and prodded Twilight's right boob firmly. "I am rather enjoying this whole being used and degraded thing, and if I'm not going to get anything like it that isn't farm or apple related until you have returned from your triumphant tour, I am darn well going to be used like the best worst whorse ever."

Both mares giggled, and Twilight kissed Rarity gently on the lips. "Fine, fine," Twilight said. "Well, we could go with lots of little accessories that I in-character approve-- maybe a cling spell for the boa?"

"Stick a pin in that one, I think," Rarity said slowly. "As a maybe. But-- I do understand from the smaller half of our little not-a-herd-because-you-say-so…" Rarity smirked as Twilight's ears plastered back against her skull, and snuggled in against Twilight's gigantic breasts. Snarking off is so nice for reminding her that my ass needs paddling when we're back in scene!

Happily, she continued, "That you've done some very extensive face-sitting today? I hope you're not too bored." She nodded to the custom chair. "Pinkie called it up for me-- very tastefully done for her." When Twilight nodded, Rarity did the same, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps that, then-- I'm not to be permitted to serve you like a civilized slut, but instead must use telekinesis the whole time while serving your…" She groaned, and squirmed her sodden thighs together with a well-pleased sigh, "Très belle-chose and simply divine ass beneath?"

Twilight bit her lower lip, and Rarity could see it was appealing to her beloved friend. Time to slut it up a bit more, Rarity decided. Twilight was a wonderful dominatrix but she did dither at unfortunate moments. She leaned against her larger friend's immense chest, and then nuzzled her way from tit-top to shoulder to neck to chin to ear, planting little kisses along the way. "With an extra coat of the lipstick before I do, darling," she whispered. "So I can leave all sorts of terribly sloppy worship-marks on you."

Twilight's resulting growl of interest made Rarity giggle and squirm her way out of Twilight's grasp. "Sceeeeeene-on!" she declared as she knelt.