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."