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! :)