It had been roughly a week (five days, not counting the first, but that was more of a half, even if it felt like the longest) since Matin Saylin had gone from “aloof virgin” to “Cutie Pie”, the mind controlled… minion officially, but sex slave realistically, of the three superpowered teenagers Adagio, Sonata, and Aria. As long as he wore the enchanted necklace they had so generously donated him, Martin would eat, shit, wish he would die, go to school, do his homework, and obey the Dazzlings, in descending order of enthusiasm.

The experience of being a mind controlled fucktoy was probably most comparable to doing homework before his “capture”, because it was a painful obligation he could never escape. The necklace had given him a series of ideas, then given them Alpha priority in his mind. To disobey them would feel wrong, and that was apparently all the reason he needed.

And as he’d noticed within seconds of his capture, he literally didn’t sweat being the a sex slave and tool for world domination. It was strange (well, internally inconsistent), because he still got boners of his own free will, but palpitations, faster heart beats, or irregular breaths all seemed impossible (except when having sex). And while in theory he was glad that he wasn’t passed out, on the verge of a heart attack and smelling like he was already dead 24/7, he’d figured it would at least have gotten him noticed. Instead, every moment he was outside with other people (particularly the magical six), was like walking past a million closed rubber suit stores on the way to the electric chair.

It was at times like these, however few they are, that one comes to appreciate every free choice they have. Look at the mass of blue, orange, or purple sitting at the desk in front of me, who I asked Celestia to put in classes with me, or keep looking down and pulling a “don’t think of cats”? Decisions, decisions.

His fear also went beyond just what position he was in for that night. When he did return to his apartment, being ordered to strip down and lie on the bed or go help them go online to decide the next piece of his future slave boy ensemble was almost a relief, considering phase two of their plan, which he knew would leave him with somehow less sperm and dignity, had yet to be initiated.

Every afternoon and morning, they would weigh the pros and cons of different targets;

“Celestia’s in charge!”

“But he says the six are the magical ones!”

“My pussy, my stomach, and necklace are all hungry! Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

And then they would give up and have their strange ways with Martin. If they were always this productive, he figured earth was perfectly safe.

Aria was the most well-rounded of his rapists. She may have given him his new name and wanted him to call himself a slut, but she also wanted to play with her toy, not just look at it in the box. Five days, 18 Martin rides with very little variation. When they used his laptop, she searched for cockrings, a comfy bed, and male versions of their clothes. Not that there was anything wrong with how they dressed.

Sonata, on the other hand, was the most affectionate, albeit in the way that the 40th volt from the chair hurt the least. She wasn’t afraid to order him to thrust back, so every morning he’d plow her while she ate breakfast, suck on her tits for his breakfast since he could hardly sustain himself before when had a job, (the first time, he thought she was just being stupid, but it turned out it actually worked, and he instantly came in his boxers out of arousal), and then feel her up in the shower. Judging from that, plus how she was most interested in searching for tuxedo’s and honeymoon spots, she clearly thought of him as her boyfriend in her own twisted way. Martin easily hated her the most.

And finally, there was Adagio. He’d only felt her folds five times, because her searches for remote controlled vibrators, engraved collars, and bondage suits showed what kind of position she wanted him in. The only consistent thing about their sex was that she was always the doer (except when he was eating her out of course, but she always pushed his head in to make herself feel better). She might tickle him, or spank him, or tease him with a feather, or stroke him off. Point was; she was never hard pressed for ideas. But whatever she did, she did it with that stupid, sexy smirk on her face, that just said “I’m evil, and I’m getting what I want. You’re fucked.” with a single facial expression.

It’d been less than a week since his capture, and a life without their control, without their pussy’s, and without constant noise complaints from his neighbors was already becoming distant to him. But that didn’t mean he was close to surrendering and becoming their willing honey-hungry cumpump, not by a long shot. Sonata, Aria and Adagio’s curse could prevent him from clenching his fists or even squinting when they hoved into view, but he still hated them. They could give him erections, and make him cum, causing him to curse himself and his weak will but… Wow. Couldn’t even give two examples.

Every little thing they did to him, from simply looking stunning to makeing him cum until he felt like his dick was raw and was shooting blood just felt So. Damn. Good! He’d learned they fed off negative emotions the night after they met, and in hindsight he should’ve been constantly reminding himself that erections were a reflex evolved long before consent laws, and that the chocolate cake one was choking on would still taste sweet, but that would’ve taken the solidest cool under the gassiest fire (he’d aced chemistry the year before). Instead, he’d wondered what kind of pathetic slut enjoyed being raped, and tried to shame his boners away. And thanks to this, his mistresses hadn’t had to sing a single song to feed since they’d found him. CHS, and the rest of the world, hadn’t even given up a white exclamation point to the Dazzling yet.

This was what he was pondering in Mr. Discord’s class on a Wednesday (though “class” was used in the loosest sense of the word. Or “cents”, as he seemed to think it was spelled, seeing as how he tended to toss out pennies whenever someone called his inane ramblings out) when the bell rang, once again startling him out of his thoughts, and signalling the beginning of lunch.

The other students, including Fluttershy, quickly began filing out as Mr. Discord continued to ramble. Martin was too startled to stand up, but when he looked to his right as Adagio passed by and gestured towards the door, he became terrified to stand up, but still did it.

With the same slight-smile that he’d forced on himself since he realized looking glum to other people might not be in his mistress’s best interests, he slung his thrift-store backpack over his shoulder, and followed Adagio out the door. Once in the hallways, she no longer the need to even look at him as he obeyed, and both both of them joined the human flow down the hallways towards the cafeteria.

He’d done the dance twice before, but like many aspects of his enslavement, it wouldn’t be until long after the hundredth time before he felt any better about it. Every step was like walking down to the basement all over again, even if he thought he knew what was coming and that he should be able to wait it out. For the most part, school was now the only place he felt even marginally safe or independent; surrounded by good natured, if oblivious people, and able to make many of his own, albeit inconsequential decisions, like where to sit or how to do a math problem. But lunch, where the school theoretically allowed students to go wherever they wanted, was an unwelcome dose of reality because he was going to eat in the library with the Dazzlings and the whole school new it.

When a boy is sent to greet three gorgeous teenage girls, then immediately starts spending all his time with them both during and after school, people tend to get suspicious. Of course not the helpful kind of suspicious, and that was a constant source of frustration, but he’d also admitted he the world would be in a very different place if people were quicker explain perfectly normal phenomena with mind controlling demon girls and cursed necklaces.

Speaking of the necklace, it was the other half of why he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror anymore. The purple stone and gold chain were the only outwardly visible parts of his captivity, and whenever he saw it, felt it hit his collarbone, got ready to take a shower, or had it stared at, it felt like their was a massive weight holding his whole body down.

Socialization, like grades and rent, had seriously sunk on his priorities list, both because of the necklace, and because of the necklace stressing him out.( so really just because of the necklace). He hadn’t gotten very far into the community before his capture, but the other students seemed to have forgotten aloof didn’t mean deaf. Some thought the two orphaned parties simply found sympathy in each other. Others were slightly more observant and thought the sisters were competing for this teenage hunk. Pinkie thought his soul had been split into three parts, and he was trying to reconnect with it, but at least she was upfront about her theory, and offered to throw him a guess-what were the Rainbooms could play… soul music! Ha! Ha! Ha! (as stupid as that pun was, it was the first laugh Martin had since his capture).

But regardless, even Adagio was absorbed into the mosaic of colorfully dressed humans at the bottleneck of the door, and so was Martin. The CHS student body never jostled each other, but wading through the warm, loud, somewhat smelly mass was never very pleasant.

As he continued in though, he first caught the scent of tomatoes and garlic, then human curtain slowly parted, and he was once again in the massive auditorium that said “fuck you, Martin” with all its bright cheeriness.

Without pausing or looking up, Martin swung right with the rest of the students into line. He recognized the mint-green hair in front of him as belonging to Lyra Heartstrings, but he cared more about looking past the line at Granny Smith’s buffet to see if he was going to be discussing love on an empty stomach.

“*Phew* Pasta,” he thought. But in the same view he noticed a ball of orange, and how close the buffet was getting. He briefly cast a glance leftward, and saw Sunset, Fluttershy and Rainbow were already deep into their meals and conversations. “Lucky them. Not having any mind controlling teenagers in their- dammit! Forgot again!”

It wasn’t important to his mission how many pieces of garlic bread he got (one), or if he looked Big Mac in the eye while he got them (he didn’t), but it was important not to stall, so although Martin was probably the first person in history to wish a line would go on forever, he carried his tray back out the door in two minutes, and pushed the heavy library doors open again with his foot in four.

It wasn’t as calm or lonely in the beautiful glass domed room as the Dazzling’s would have liked, but past the few students that day (today just Cutie Merit Crusaders), up a short but for-Martin very difficult flight of stairs, and into the seats at the small table past the shelves, they felt at least 70% safe in discussing rape, mind control and world domination.

Even after all they’d been through together, when he sat down with the Dazzlings, or in this case just Aria and Adagio, he still felt like a superspy sitting down to dine with the villain as they explain their whole evil plan instead of just shooting him. Admittedly, two thirds of that trope applied to his current situation, but it still felt a little formal for girls who were never more than 12 hours away from fucking his enchanted brains out.

Just like the other day’s, he’d lost his appetite the moment they slid into vision coming up the stairs, but he thought he’d also get it back again after a few minutes (stress doesn’t do wonders for one’s eating either, though he knew starving himself wouldn’t work), so he set his tray down and looked up into their stunning… smiling faces?

Something was very wrong for him, right for them. He’d been too busy pondering to notice it on the way in, but their conversation had stopped as soon as he came close, and now, they were looking across the small rounded table with content smiles that were normally reserved for his bedroom.

With a great sense of horror, Martin realized that for all his previously justified dread (as in, “he had it before, and it was justified”, not “it used to be justified, not it’s not”), he realized that he’d been able to wait lunch periods out before. But now, he could feel he was about to become very actively involved.

“So Cutie Pie, you ready for your first actual assignment?”

When Aria confirmed his fears, though he couldn’t budge in response, he approximated his feeling to having one’s body heat fail, stomach run a lap around one’s body, and bladder turn to toilet paper.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuckthisisit!” he panicked, once again feeling trapped in his body, unable to move, talk, or even sweat.

The girls both gave a slight shiver as his fear flowed into them with a force they’d not felt for a while, but they’d still gotten used to a constant stream to some degree, so Adagio continued.

“I’ve decided…” she shot a sideways glance and smile at Aria, who gave a sideways glance and frown back, showing their rivalry really was omnipresent. “-That to cripple a nation, one must first disable it’s leadership.” She leaned in further, either out of secrecy, or mock secrecy.

“P-”

“Celestia and Luna?!” Martin shot out, causing both of them to jolt in surprise. Obviously Martin could still talk, but he mostly only did so to answer direct questions for his mistresses of for school. The process was starting to feel strange on his throat, and he was just as surprised by his blurt as they were.

“Uh, yeah,” Adagio said, leaning back into her chair confused.
“Yeah. Just, you know, go to her office and uh, do your thing,” Aria instructed, also recovering from her shock.

Martin’s mind was already a mess of strange thoughts at this point. Canterlot was a city of wonderful people, young and old. Of course, the fact that they were all in Canterlot and not spreading their wonderfulness to the rest of the world might make one question it, but point was, Celestia and Luna sat firmly at the top of the wonderful pyramid. They were both stunningly beautiful, their faces flawless and hair impossible. And though they may have made attempts to hide it with rather unassuming senses of dress, they easily had the largest breasts and most perfect asses in town, to which almost every student, male and female, had gotten hard or wet to at least once (another thing that made Canterlot wonderful, as long as you weren’t a bigot).

But they were about as far from bimbos as one could get. Having had to do all his meetings and paperwork himself, Martin knew first hand of their kindness, intelligence, character and even humor that gave everyone who lusted after them a far greater deal of respect than beautiful woman were usually given (sadly, that is to say no-one called them sluts to their faces).

Everyone, including Martin had wanted them, but it was like lusting for goddesses, they just seemed so grand and distant. And now Martin was going to have sex with the both of them to help his musical mind-controllers take over the world. His response summed up his thoughts on the matter perfectly:

“Okay. Uh, any tips?”

Okay, maybe it didn’t, but before they could answer he felt two unusually warm hands on his shoulders.

“Memorize the tune, not the lyrics. Fill the air when you sing, and imagine everyone in their underwear if you get nervous,” chimed a cheerful familiar voice. Martin turned his head up to join the two A’s in staring at it’s source in confusion. “What? What’s what you guys always said when I asked that question?

The first morning, Adagio and Aria and Sonata had actually given him permission to roll his eyes if Sonata was being stupid enough, and now was a time for counting one’s blessings.

“Will I be the the rapist, because I’m giving her these emotions? Or will she be the rapist, be-”

“Come in.” His panicked mental ramblings stopped, and his fate apparent, Martin steeled himself up and opened the door.

Few people in the world can learn to get true satisfaction out of any kind of menial paperwork, but ever fewer can deny that satisfaction to look up when a student knocks on their door to, in all likelihood, bitch and complain. Two thirds of those people lived in Canterlot, and they’d all learned it from Principal Celestia.

Seeing her happy, welcoming expression and soft purple eyes melted the steel, and all Martin’s built up guilt returned.

“Martin! What brings you by this hour?”

He knew that was her unmalicious way of asking why he wasn’t in Physics class right now, and somehow started feeling even more ashamed. It was over this past week though, that he’d realized how good of an actor he was, so he calmly shut the door behind him with a normal expression, all without taking his eyes off her.

“It’s about the girls,’ he said, in accordance to the semi-plan he’d reluctantly thought up on his way there. His tone conveyed neither happiness nor concern, but as always, there was activity underneath.

“Have a seat,” Celestia offered, and Martin cursed her for being so friendly. If she told him to fuck off, or at least kept their conversation short, she’d be safe as all his teachers and classmates usually were. But his plan had been built around her personality, and if it didn’t work he was to retain her attention through any means necessary, so she was literally and figuratively screwed.

“I really think they’ve. . .” Martin pulled up the seat, but with first horror then relief realized he hadn’t actually planned out what he was going to say about them.”. . .Been making some progress.”

“Oh? How so?” Celestia put her hands together on the desk and leaned in.

“God dammit Celestia! You’re supposed to be smart! You’re making this too easy!” Martin thought, but wished he could say.

“Well… uh, I think their branching out the friend circle,” he repeated the line he’d often heard in his etiquette classes.

“Really? So their making friends already? That’s great! With whom?” Celestia followed up. Her constantly calm, motherly voice also hid a deeper meaning. She understood that it could take quite a bit of time to adjust to a new school, especially when you don’t have any parents, and you’re more likely to hang on to what few friends you have like life-preservers, but she was still slightly worried about the so-called Dazzlings. They acted and dressed provocatively, but always seemed to hang around Martin. Was this just their shared personalities that had evidently brought them together outside the foster care system, despite them not being related, or was it to mask their shared insecurities? She had, after all, learned their de-facto family name when they’d entered the school musical showcase under it, bragging about their singing prowess. But the next day Adagio came in and said they had other plans.

“Well, me. And I think they’re warming up to Derpy.”

And speaking of Martin, what was his deal with them? Of course, a person sympathetic to your pasts who greets you at the front door is very easy to grow attached to, but the normally aloof Martin had spent an hour giving them a tour, and now she was being told they were spending all their lunches together in the library, and seemingly walking each other home. Not that she blamed them for wanting to spend as much time with the boy in front of her, but still, something was fishy.

“Derpy? Well good for them!” Celestia cursed herself this time for being too obvious. But really, Martin was now lying to her face about their social progress. If she left this alone, the girls could easily end up alone to. Except for Martin of course. It looked like they’d always have his pleasant company.

“And what have the four, or, *chuckle-hmm*, five of you been doing together? Is it anything other students might be interested in?” This was a genuine question. She knew during lunch they just talked, but what they did in the evenings before going home might hold the key to their social problems. But Celestia didn’t even register Martin’s answer, because she was too busy realizing where her train of thought had led her.

“It doesn’t matter if they are having foursomes. The six have orgies all the time,” she reminded herself. But that only made her remember what she’d imagined her students did to each other in their spare time, and those ideas had given her almost as many orgasms as Luna.

She chanced a look at Martin’s body through his brown t-shirt and jeans, but for some reason couldn’t help but picture him between (crossed out “her”) Adagio’s legs, or on his back as (crossed out “she and Luna) Aria and Sonata rode his face and cock. There was no denying it, Martin’s physical attractiveness was beaten only by Big Macintosh’s, but it was a close call.

Celestia’s jaw relaxing as her eyes begin tracing one’s figure sets off alarm bells, but in the same way seeing orange monkeys vomiting house-shaped onions did: because it’s never supposed to happen. Martin knew the spell was working, and continued to talk as he pondered what was going to happen next.

When he’d first put the necklace on, he’d learned other objectives besides obeying his mistresses; He had to find women, or at least the women he was ordered to find, but all he had to do was hold their attention for long enough, and the necklace would do the rest. In a crowded room, the necklace wouldn’t waste it’s power on everybody, but along in a room with three or less females, and they’d start wanting him and wanting him until they couldn’t control themselves. That was where the official instructions ended, but the Dazzlings’ mouths weren’t limited to music, so had managed to piece together the more terrifying half of the plan.

Once they had had sex with a female, they to were cursed. This particular thrall necklace had been programmed to infect them with Class B Sirenity, meaning that they’d be linked to the necklace owners to both obey, and behave like them.

The red-stoned ring he carried in his pocket was one of hundreds back in his apartment. They/he had the potential to make a whole school of demons like the Dazzlings, even though there were far too many Sonatas already. Before, he’d been counting on the girls incompetence and the magical six’s ingenuity to save them, but right now, as he watched his principal and dare-he-say role-model lick her lips, he realized there were indeed no brakes on this train.

“And sometimes we even to MATH homework, which we all have trouble with because there are just so many numbers and we tr-” Martin tried to continue the conversation, not to distract the six-foot-two deity now ogling him, but because it wasn’t in his mistress’s best interests if they just stared at each other all day. He was terrified by her response to his attempt at starting the ball rolling (he’d looked it up. It means to start an activity to set off a chain reaction), but certainly not disappointed.

“Martin shut up,’ she said flatly, and Martin complied, almost glad he didn’t have to ramble any longer. But to his surprise, she opened up and began sifting through one of her desk drawers

Martin’s terror was renewed as he wondered what she could possibly have in her school drawer that would be appropriate for the situation. But then he realized it was CHS, and became more terrified as thoughts of vibrators and maybe even full on strap-ons came to mind.

“Put these on,” she commanded as she proceeded to toss something over the desk into his lap with a clink. All her parental compassion was gone from her voice, and she spoke as if frustrated.

Martin looked down and recognized the object as a pair of funny pink handcuffs that Adagio had searched for what she wasn’t feeling very ambitious. This meant one-point-five things: 1. The kindly mother of an authority figure who saved CHS thousands on a guidance counselor had a seriously kinky side (though again, CHS, so everyone at least somewhat suspected it), and 1.5. He was about to experience it first hand, and get actually tied up for the first time in his life.

Or was he? After at least seven seconds he was still staring down at them.

“Wait,” he thought as he slowly turned his head back up to the glare of an impatient Celestia. “Do I have to obey you? I have to have sex with you, and this appears to be the best way to do that, so logically I guess I should. These are the kind of technicalit-”

“Martin, put them on behind your back, stand up, and be quiet, or else you’re expelled. Do you understand me?”

“Uh, yes mistress,” Martin responded instinctively, giving Celestia a brief smile and twitch, both for his compliance, and how good that title sounded. He took the handcuffs and stood up, intentionally shoving the chair back behind him. He looked down at the cuffs, and obediently pulled his hands behind his back and began fumbling with them. He already felt a prisoner in his own body, so he believed being tied actually tied up was the definition of redundant at this point, he clasped the half comfortable, half cold contraptions around his wrists without much mental trouble.

Upon hearing the satisfying clicks of Martin being made helpless (again, he thought, jokes on her), Celestia stood up and walked around the desk the left, and Martin turned to face her. Because she was so tall, Martin felt like he was craning his neck to actually look at her eyes and not the two watermelons beneath her suit jacket.

Still though, something didn’t feel right, or at least familiar. This wasn’t anything like what he’d envisioned. For one, her eternally soft face was giving an unimpressed frown. And in general, save for her scanning purple eyes, she seemed as calm and in control of her emotions as ever. He’d always imagined the female rubbing her thighs togethers and twitching their dominant hand while the conversation continued, not cool, collected authority like this. Where was the psychotic animal-in-heat the spell was supposed to bring? And… why was he feeling a twinge of disappointment at that?

“Martin,” she finally said after her eyes had scanned all the way down to his feet. “You are a strong, confident, smart young man who had the potential to change to world. You know that, right?”

Martin was puzzled. She was talking like she did whenever he’d failed a test or was otherwise feeling down, but he’d just put on fluffy pink handcuffs for crying out loud! Did the spell make people insane, or unable to distinguish their emotions? EIther way, he didn’t want to incur her wrath with another delayed response.

“Uh, yeah.”

Suddenly, her eyes went wide as saucers, her pupils small as an atom, and she bared her perfect teeth with a grin that could make even Adagio cross her legs.

“Well then it’s too bad you’re too cute for your own good! C’mere!”

Nevermind. Found the animal.

She hit him like a freight train, charing into and wrapping her arms around his back to pull him against her. For a split second as she pushed, time stood still as his feet were lifted off the ground, and the room blurred around him. Then his back was slammed into the wall audibly and uncomfortably. His head whipped into the wall as well, not hard enough to damage it, for their combined arms absorbed most of the impact, but enough to sting and take him a moment to notice her tongue had already forced it’s entrance.

Like Aria’s before it, and Adagio’s before that, her beautiful face filled his vision as she closed her eyes and kissed him, shoving her longue tongue what felt like all the way down his throat, then swirling and dancing it around like a warm, wet snake. But any pleasure this might have brought him was negated by how, between the wall, her arms, and her body (especially her breasts, which he could feel scrunching against his chest through her suit), it felt like she was trying to crush him to death. And judging by how powerful her arms and torso felt, that seemed well within her capabilities.

She didn’t let up either. She pushed her body harder and harder, and twirled her tongue faster and faster. and although he might’ve been sexually assaulted once or twice in his life by now, Martin felt sheer terror at violent onslaught against his body. He had absolutely no power, and felt the helplessness of Aria’s first song return.

“But wait, did I just wriggle? I thought that was imp-!”

Like a bolt, she killed his train of thought be sliding her right arm out from behind him and squeezing his crotch through his pants like a vice.

She hadn’t broken her lip lock, so he could only shift slightly under the pai- well, no one word describes the feeling of having one’s balls squeezed through one’s pants. His mind sprung back to when Adagio did it on their first date (that’s what Sonata called them), and realized that not only was Celestia seemingly stronger than any of the Dazzlings, but she was also felt like cold like a statue compared to their supernovas of bodies.

The idea that she wasn’t like the Dazzlings also reminded him of what was really happening. This wasn’t Celestia grabbing in crotch, and moving her hand up, and sliding her fingers under his shirt and into his pants No! If this was Celestia, he wanted to obey the Dazzling every command and help the enslave earth. He just had to remember that, and it wouldn’t matter that the dream girl of girls of dreams was wrapping her hand around her flaccid length, and squeezing! Yeah, not likely.

Her hand still felt ice cold, but she was trying her damndest to warm it up with the friction of stroking him off like a fast, stroky thing. He squirmed against her embrace, and tugged on his cuffs (again, curious), but although her grip had loosened somewhat, between had hand, the cuffs, her tongue and the spell, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Her eyes still shut in bliss, she pushed her face in even harder, and pulled her left arm out from behind him. He didn’t have time to squirm further though (“okay, seriously, did I just forget how before?”), because she then used it to shove him fully against the wall, and finally broke off the kiss to look him in the eye.

Martin felt blood rushing to his loins, but he met her returned terrifying and insane gaze anyways. Up close, her pupils looked like needles ready to shoot out and pierce him, and her teeth became a solid white mass that didn’t part even when she spoke.

“Mr Saylin, I’ve heard every sex ed and extra credit joke four times,” she hissed as she continued to piston him as he became denser and denser.

“Wait,” he protested weakly, both out of fear and from how hard her forearm was pressed against his chest. But realizing he could indeed protest, he turned his eyes to the side and began pondering how he felt about his order to fuck her in the first place. Terrible, obviously. But something else felt wrong or right depending on how you looked at it. But it was kind of hard to evaluate one’s entire spectrum of emotions when Celestia’s attack became a slower milk in response to his hardening member.

“I’m just going to fuck you now okay?” she finish, and pulled her hands and body off him to kneel down in next to his crotch. His upper body finally free, he slumped against the wall slightly and tried to catch his breath. But she didn’t waste any time opening, not fumbling with, his fly.

When she pulled the zipper down, Martin felt like he was in group therapy for a millisecond, because somebody finally noticed that he hadn’t worn underwear since his capture (except boxers in his apartment, which was all his was allowed to wear there). His cock was red and chafed from fumbling around unprotected inside jeans, but it was either that, or wear sweats and have his frequent erections put on full display. Celestia, however, didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she grabbed his cock with her hand and buried it in her mouth without the slightest hesitation.

Martin’s eyes rolled back at the feeling of her, okay, they were pretty warm, lips on around his member, and the vacuum that came soon after. He’d been blown before obviously; at this rate, Celestia would be the last person to ever try a new position on him. But Celestia, or at least the 60-70% of her that the spell hadn’t changed, wasted no time in demonstrating her remarkable skill and technique. Her hand squeezed his base, her lips bobbed up and down, and her tongue resumed dancing, but this time around his tip.

He groaned and bucked into the wall once, but her lips and hand remained firmly in place. As always, his crotch was a distracting hotspot of pleasure on his body that was telling his brain to shut down and let instinct take over. He looked down and saw only a shifting rainbow mass. That helped a little with his attempts at dehumanizing her in the good way, but without the constant threat of being crushed like a walnut, he finally figured it out.

For the first time since Friday, he felt like he could squirm. He remembered his obligations, but he was about as compelled to obey them as a “Keep Off The Grass Sign”: following the rules was important, but he felt like he had leeway. And if their was ever a time for leeway, it was now.

Summoning the same disobedient courage that had told countless social workers to get stuffed, Martin… twisted and pulled in his cuffs, and squirmed around a bit. Obviously, neither Celestia nor his cock cared, and he could already feel the foundations of the beginnings of an orgasm.

He had a million ideas; kick her off, yell, run, all three, try and tear off the necklace, but it all still felt wrong. Nothing was his truly own except the few cubic centimetres inside his skull (again, that the spell wasn’t still present in), and the horizontal axis of his hands (provided the cuffs were still on). Celestia sucked and squeezed salivated, and it felt absolutely amazing. His newfound breathing room wasn’t stopping the natural process from being forced on him for the umpteenth time, but he knew if he came he’d be dooming both himself, and Celestia, so he wasn’t about to waste even chances smaller than Celestia’s pupils.

He tilted his head back and squinched his eyes shut and put up his best resistance to the spreading fire of pleasure and lust in his loins. First, he tugged and tugged on his cuffs, hoping against hope that not only would he escape them, but if he did, his arms would remain controllable. But even the tiny distraction the of pain pulling on normal cuffs might have brought him was negated by the fluff, so he concentrated on his mind.

“Me getting dismembered! the taste of Eggplant casserole! Celestia as a horse!” he begged himself to think again. He knew it wouldn’t work, but he also knew Half Life 3 was never going to come out. “Celestia with the mumps! Celestia swallowing my cum! Wait, no! No! No! Why is that picture staying!?”

Probably because it was the most realistic. The voluptuous principal stopped using her tongue, but slid her lips faster and faster along his now glistening prick, and Martin swore he could feel his sperm imprisoned in his base, slowly its way forward. He clenched his eyes so tight they hurt more than his wrists, and thought about what the picture of this goddess of wisdom and integrity cheeks bulging with his seed would entail.

“Jesus fucking christ man! You’ll kill her! She’ll become just like the Dazzlings, and the good woman who was Principal Celestia will be destroyed. Her life literally depends on you keeping your cock in check, and you’re going to cum!” his inside voice switched to the third person for shaming him again, but as always, it was no use. He began a light pant, and she pulled him closer and closer until that little switch in his brain and cock was flipped, and he opened his eyes only to roll them back as he came.

Celestia was highly experienced, and wasted no time going from sucking to swallowing. Martin arched his back in against the wall in a familiar, but amplified feeling of pleasure and pain, pushing involuntarily pushing his cock further in and he came rope after rope with force to cut steel, but Celestia swallowed and swallowed just as quickly. Even though it felt like it would take a year for his reserves to fill again after this, Martin never felt a single sperm cell on his cock, as it all disappeared down her throat just as quickly as it came out, like the two of them were two parts of a fully operational machine. No matter how many times it flowed, the stream of cum always felt like it’d last forever, but after at least two millennia, it started to wind down until Celestia removed her mouth to let Martin slump down against the wall in defeat.

Martin panted like an asthmatic dog who’d just been on a marathon in space as the feelings besides unwanted pleasure slowly returned to him.

“Fuck me, I’m a monster,” he thoughted defeatedly as he realized what had just happened. He looked up to see if Celestia was dead yet, and wasn’t disappointed when he saw her gulp for the last time, then look down at him with an only slightly less intense face of rape.

“That was amaaaazing, Mr Saylin,” she complimented.

“Celestia?” he asked weakly, trying to see if there was any kernel of Canterlot’s favorite woman left in her.

“Celestia was a goody two shoes little slut who let perfectly good fucktoys like you walk by her every day because she was satisfied with her equally slutty little sister. From now on, call me Molestia!”

“Oh, god. I’m a murderer,” Martin resigned as he groaned out loud, having seen enough movies to know bad puns were a staple of the dead. “Okay, a metaphorical murderer, but that’s definitely a step up from Fluttershy’s definition. Now she’s supposed to be addicted to me, and I have to give her the ring soon.”

And as my name implies, Mr Saylin ” Celestia grabbed him by the chin, and turned his limp head to face her, even though at this point he was more concerned with how cold his spit polished cock was getting. “We’re not remotely finished.”

Martin posiotioned Celestia’s clitories with his lips, and began sucking on the tiny bud, but Celestia, preoccupied by the red gem now on her ring finger, barely flinched.

“One of you? How so?” She asked across the desk as she made her hand a fist to further examine the ring.

“Well, honestly, we don’t know. We’ve never done this before,” Adagio admitted.

Her sex crazed fervor had died down after three straight hours, and she’d returned to a character that was at least comfortable being called Celestia in conversation. School had ended an hour before, but the Dazzlings had been patient enough to wait afterwards for Martin to call them with the good news. Now, they oriented their newest recruit, as Martin idly lapped at her cunt under the desk.

“Well you should never be afraid to be ambitious girls, and I think your plan is terrific” Celestia encouraged, her wisdom not dead like her conscience. “But I’m sorry, I just don’t feel all that different.”

She perked up for a split second as Martin flicked his tongue across her clit, but instantly recovered. Her juices were still picking up though, and for the first time in awhile, Martin was conflicted about his obligations. The fact that she’d ordered him to get under the desk and eat her out seemed to indicate she wanted more from him, but as the four orgasms he’d already given her showed, even her legendary composure couldn't stand up to such pleasure, and conversation would be difficult.

“Well do you like having sex with Cutie Pie?” Sonata asked.

“Yes,” Celestia replied without even looking down.

“And do you care what you have to do to get it?” Aria asked, catching on to Sonata’s uncharacteristic play.

“Well, no,” Celestia could see were this was going.

“And do you mind helping us conquer earth and Equestria?” Adagio finished.

“I’d like to help, and the three of you certainly seem like the types to be in charge,” she admitted.

“Well then, we’ve got nothing to worry about! And as our first female sl-recruit, why don’t you pick who Cutie Pie gets for us next,” Adagio concluded cheerfully.

Celestia gave a small smile when she heard Adagio almost call her a slave. Martin had explained why she felt the way she did about him when he gave her the ring, but unlike his control, the spell had simply given her an emotion, not an order, and the ring had changed her at the most basic level, so she never felt out of control, even if she knew she technically was.

“Well, I’m sure Luna would enjoy this,” she deliberately said loudly so that Martin could hear. “And we’ve got all sorts of toys at home.”

Martin heard her all right, and even though his eyes were closed, he could see the smile forming on the Dazzling’s faces. The absolute terror of killing yet another glorious woman today, and playing, or being played with, whatever toys Celestia wasn’t comfortable keeping in her desk hit him again, but the thought of the handcuffs that still bound his wrists compelled him to pull his mouth out briefly to ask his mistresses a question.

“Ey *spit* mitheresseth,” he cleared his mouth of Celestia’s honey. “Wheth *spit* I was having sex with elestia-”

“Speaking of which, who told you to stop!” Celestia said as her cunt grew cold again. Martin quickly returned to lapping at it, but tried his best to convey his message at the same time.

“Whelth, I *lick* elth a ittle *kiss* moffree.”

“If you want, we could get a machine for the house,” Sonata said. Adagio, being fluent in gagspeak though, understood him perfectly and replied.

“Yeah, we thought that might happen,” Adagio said, and Celestia eyes shot up to her with a worried look. “The more energy the necklace is using invoking lust, the less if focused on keeping you in line. But worry, the most you’ll be able to do is squirm around a little, maybe politely ask us to stop- when you’re already tied up and have girls working you. You’re not going anywhere.”

Reassured, Celestia looked down at Martin again, who hadn’t stopped even as the most hope he’d felt in a week was thrown out the window. To further prove her dominance, she placed her hand on his head and pushed him in further just like Adagio always did, and weakened her composure to mock him with her spasms and moans.

There were quite a few of those to, because in five days Martin had already picked up several tricks, and in a minute he was drowning in her juices unable to move his head.

Finished, but far from done, she nonchalantly let go of his head to stand up. The Dazzlings got a view of her of her hairless sopping snatch, and Martin got a dripping stream of honey which he quickly adjusted himself to catch with his tongue and swallow, just like he’d been ordered.

“Alright my little children, let’s go take over the world!”