One part of Martin’s designated “toy” outfit nobody had thought through was that there was only one of it, and seven sex-filled days of the weak. Only wearing the collar and cockring with his blessedly soft T-shirt and jeans was the only consolation Martin felt as he sat on the bleachers outside school, watching his new target foreshadow their future interactions by dominating the game.

It was late in the day, and the shadow of the bleachers loomed over the entire soccer field. Martin had personally seen (or rather, not seen) his fair share of dark “bedrooms” in his foster homes, and he was probably saving on his electricity bill with how his mistresses (especially Luna) liked to keep his apartment lights dimmed, but it seemed that many of the players in the practice soccer match were having trouble keeping their eyes on the ball.

Rainbow Dash, aka his target wasn’t phased though. Before he’d gotten to see her play every time he volunteered to staff a game, and whatever she played like, it wasn’t a soccer player. She weaved between players like one of Rarity’s needles, kicked like Martin wished he could every time his mistress played with him, and moved sped like the bolt on the CHS soccer uniforms. She wasn’t perfect; she’d lost no less than 18 balls that afternoon and missed six goals from haste, overconfidence, or inability to utilize her teammates, and she’d get chewed her out for it later, but the fact she even had that many chances showed what kind of future she had to look forward to. In theory. In practice, when asked who their newest recruit should be, Rarity insisted on Rainbow Dash.

“Sunset would certainly have her merits, but I feel right now evil needs more… energetic members”

Sweetie Belle had done the closest thing to begging her older sister’s control would allow to have Martin go get Applejack so they could start reforming the Crusaders, but Rarity had admitted she was nervous going after kind Fluttershy, brave Applejack, conscientious Sunset or… something Pinkie Pie. Martin had to agree that Rainbow Dash was the only one he could visualize on top of him, in bright colors and leather, calling him a worthless slut. But then again, once that conversation was over, principals Celestia and Luna rid him and called him a worthless slut, so original personalities seemed like a minor inconvenience to the ring’s magic.

Optimism hadn’t saved him or Rarity a few days ago, but every time a goal was scored and the game continued despite the darkening sky, Martin was glad to see them continue. Alas, at 27-14, Rainbow Dash’s team, Soarin blew his whistle for the final time, and the students all came to the center to complement each other’s performance and say goodbye. And when Rainbow Dash turned her head away from the mid-field huddle to acknowledge the presence of her supposed date for the evening for the first time, Martin’s heart stopped cold.

He’d entered his target’s offices, he’d entered his target’s homes, but now he was just sitting out in the open, waiting for her to come to him. She was smiling, but it still felt like she knew she was looking at the boy who’d killed three of her friends, and had now come for her, and was ready to tear him apart with her lightning quick speed, impossible strength and martial arts skills like she’d do for anyone else who hurt her friends. Rarity had only thought Applejack would be more problematic because she wasn’t going to be the murderer alone in a room with those perfectly chiseled muscles. Martin almost hoped the spell would work properly.

The gaze only lasted a second before Dash’s attention turned back to the group. She’d had a blast, as always, and her friends seemed to agree, but in truth she was a little impatient. A “nice kick” here, a “remember, dribbling, not running” there, and she tried to pay attention during her anticipated chewing out, but the rush of battle was only beaten by the rush of juices, so she said her goodbyes with the rest as the mass of blue and yellow uniforms dissipated. Most headed for the street or the parking lot, since only the student coaches had the time for showers at school this late, but Dash of course put her eyes back on Martin, and sauntered across the field towards the bleachers.

In the 30 second it took for her to reach him, Martin’s heart felt dead, it beat far too slowly. When she finally stood in front of him, looking down (he regretted his decision to sit on the first row), she put her hands hands on her hips and smiled, and he swore if nobody ever did that again, it’d be too soon.

“Well, hi Martin,” she said almost sarcastically in her signature shrill, but not unpleasant voice, and held out her hand. “I guess I’m Rainbow Dash, and we’re supposed to fuck.”

Martin slowly took her hand and stood up to look at her violet eyes and strangely hued but otherwise flawless face up close for the first time in recent memory. They had no classes together, and his most memorable experiences of her were always watching her kick some demon or opposing team or musical ass from a distance. She was probably the most godly of the magical six to him, since Sunset had been making every attempt to seem human since the Formal. The fact that Dash seemed to be reluctant about Rarity’s supposed blind date at least allowed Martin to respond though.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Martin gave a soft smile that said he agreed with her skepticism. “Look I’m not sure I think this is one of Rarity’s normally great ideas, but if she thinks both of us being awesome is reason enough to get together…”

Rainbow Dash chuckled, but Martin paused. He’d spent over a week remaining hidden by keeping his head down and using his acquired lying skills when necessary, but his mission to Rarity had shown him what a little stress could do to one’s believability. If he wanted to succeed in his mission, he had to play his part well, and choose his next words very carefully.

“... I-I don’t see why we couldn’t talk a few minutes. M-maybe go get dinner tonight?”

Rainbow smiled again. She didn’t understand what the big deal about him was. Was he cute? Sure. In fact, looking at him now, Rarity might’ve been onto something, but she’d seen him in the hallways and he was no Big Mac or Soarin. Why did Rarity or Fluttershy or Applejack care so much if he had a few four ways with the new girls? The’d had six ways together, maybe they were just leading by example. And if he and the “Dazzlings” had fallen out, leaving Martin to search for a true companion like Rarity said, why shouldn’t she give him a shot? After a few rounds… of dinner of course!, she’d see if she’d found her latest boy toy.

“Heh. Dinner? Why not. Just let me change and shower first.” she turned towards the school, but then paused, and smiled even bigger. Martin got a sinking feeling her next words would be:

“It’s getting kinda cold. If you want we can choose the restaurant inside.”

Martin’s body ached to shudder, and he was reminded of the rubber around his base, but he said yes anyways, because saying yes anyways was kinda his thing now.

Following Rainbow Dash across the field, Martin, like most of CHS, couldn’t help himself but look at her upper back. Of course he saw nothing but the yellow lightning bolt on her soccer shirt, and below it there probably were no scars or anything (Though he’d probably find out for sure soon enough), but even with physical evidence of magic’s existence banging around his neck, he still couldn’t get over that a month ago this very back had sprouted blue wings.

When they opened the doors and stepped into the dark but familiar hallways, Martin had to thank said physical evidence for at least getting him out of the cold which Rarity wouldn’t let him wear one of his jackets for. The mere idea of heat though, snowballed, and Martin had caught a glimpse of the two round cheeks swaying beneath the blue gym shorts before he even realized she’d vaporize him for it. Okay, she probably wouldn’t, but even without that Rainbow power (no pun intended) that blew a crater out front, he knew she was inhumanly strong.

And then that idea snowballed, and Martin remembered where they were going both figuratively and literally. Lustful and depraved minds thought alike, and Dash’s original intention might’ve actually been for a change and shower, but pretty soon she’d be glad she brought him to such an isolated area. He thought back to when the crowd broke, and remembered seeing the two coaches head inside, but he’d been in shouting distance of other people during his missions before, and it hadn’t helped.

Bracing himself for doing it he fourth time was like bracing himself for a flu shot, only worse (though that probably went without saying). There’d be the build up, and then there’d be the forced orgasms, and then there’d be the wind down and explanation, and finally, the ring. He knew the process, and every step was painful, but…

“But what?” he realized/asked. “What’s supposed to happen next? You go get Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Sunset in random order, and then what happens? If nobody comes to help you, are all those internet searches going to become a reality? Will the Dazzlings rule two worlds, and will you be-”

“So,” Rainbow turned back to him as she put her hand on the door the the girls locker, snapping Martin out of his trance. “I’m gonna take a quick shower now.” She paused, and then looked down naughtily. “Butcha know… there shouldn’t be anyone else around. You maybe wanna-” but she paused again, and her smile faded as she contemplated her next move. Martin could see the conflict on her face; her expressions were so exaggerated he’d seen her decide what she wanted for lunch from across the soccer field while she played. But there was no point to her reluctance. She was less than a foot away from him; her realizing she was coming on too strong was like trying to stop a plugged-in phone from charging by using it. Plus, Martin had his orders.

“Dash, common decency and that sign say I should wait outside, and I will if you want me to, but what I saw outside shows that you don’t do “common”, and “decent” doesn't do you justice,”

Dash’s smile returned full force with his every flattering word. He knew what was up.

“Eh, true. No peeking,” Dash cautioned sarcastically, and stepped inside.

Martin figured he and Rainbow Dash were in opposite positions. He saw the innuendo in his mental words, and wondered if two people participating are in two different positions, or if they both make up “the position”, but then he brought himself back to the point.

He was sitting, fully clothed on the cool metal of the bench, Dash was feeling the steaming water flow down her naked form. He was worrying about the future, Dash was fantasizing about it.

Despite what she’d teased outside, Dash had pulled the curtain closed and tossed her shoes, socks, shorts, panties, shirt and bra out afterwards. But she’d done it with no less enthusiasm or confident smiles, and she’d either forgotten to grab a towel, or that was probably Martin’s job (to either get it and put it on her sexxily, or just do the towel’s job). The mere sight of her bare feet as water poured down them was pretty hot though, and although through the thick curtain her naked shadow was nigh-indistinguishable from her clothed one, Martin still felt like he could see everything.

In Canterlot, everyone seemed born with marble smooth skin, ideal faces and stunning bodies. Ms Cake was the only exception to the body requirement, and Rainbow Dash was the rule. Getting strong wasn’t necessary for her survival like it was for Martin’s, but years and years of exercise, both for fun, and to reach that unspecified ideal had allowed her to put the “peak” and “physical” in “peak physical condition”.

And about her face and breasts; Rarity’s were “objectively” better, but beauty was part of her character, but Martin realized that Dash’s charm, besides being awesome, was that her character was Rainbow Dash. Full, pert breasts, a well-rounded ass and perfect face were just bonuses. This made that fact that her character was about to become a parody of itself, and her bonuses tools of his oppression all the more painful.

He saw the shadow of the athletic coed lean against the wall, so he asked himself how badly he “needed” to fuck her, and learned “not desperately”. But the he heard what sounded vaguely like the word “no” over the sound of the water, and saw her standing back up, then bend forwards supporting herself by her knees. The idea of immunity sprung up in his mind again, but not wanting to make the same mistake twice, he remembered the past few minutes and dismissed the idea.

But the longer she stood there, wasting water (he was worrying about that now?!) the more her reluctance (being reluctant to rape someone. Imagine that) became clear. Martin instinctively pushed on her knees to stand up and approach her, but midway up he stopped to consider that compassion hadn’t had much place these past few weeks (unless you counted with him. He could’ve used some). Thinking back to what had been rumored after the Formal, and confirmed by Rarity, he remembered Rainbow Dash was the loyal part of friendship.

“Could it be,” he thought as he stood all the way up. “She knows doing what her crotch is telling her to do would be a massive betrayal?”

Finally, she stood up straight again and resumed washing herself, but her arms moved slowly, and Martin could feel his mission fading into the background of his mind, like how he felt whenever he fulfilled an order.

“She’s absorbing the necklace magic,” Martin gave a faint smile as he realized what was happening. “But sucking it up like a sponge! Holy shit! This might be my chance!”

“R-Rainbow Dash?”

“”Wha-” she stammered. “Uh, yeah?”

“I, um,” he stammered. Every second he got stronger, but he was still reluctant. “I-I think maybe-”

“What’s wrong?”

What was wrong was the necklace, which he cast a glance down at. Past the studs of his collar, the red stone hurt his eye like a bad glare, but this time, he knew it’s influence was fading.

“I don’t think,” he tried to just spit it out like Luna’s cum, but it was like telling off a bully. “I don’t really want to-” The water stopped, but before Dash could pull aside the curtain:

“Idon’twannahavesexwithyou!”

Dash froze, her bare hand visible around the curtain.

“I don’t want to have sex with you” Martin’s heart leaped when he realized what he was going to say next. “And I want to leave!”

Martin spun around expecting to see his path to freedom. It didn’t occur to him that since he hadn’t told Dash anything useful, best case scenario, he’d return to his mistresses having failed, and probably get punished for it. Rainbow Dash was a ticking timebomb, and that’s why the the human face that he actually saw that said:

“Leaving your girl wet, hardly behavior befitting a gentleman.”

-in a similarly shrill voice was problematic.

Martin jumped back on surprise, putting enough distance between the two of them for the picture to become clear. Student coach Spitfire, the second coolest named and twenty-fourth hottest girl in Canterlot High had entered while the shower and their conversation and the running drowned out the sound of the door or her footsteps. Martin didn’t have time to ask why she’d decided to sneak up on him because she smiled maliciously and held out her finger.

And she didn’t have time to continue sarcastically reprimanding him either, because Rainbow Dash came out of the shower, and both of them snapped their heads sideways to see her rounded and erect breasts, hairless and puffy snatch, and body wasn’t just in excellent shape (he counted at least eight packs), but was virtually bursting with power and muscles that her fairly slender form couldn’t properly contain, all shimmering wet and beautiful.

And neither of the girls had time to say anything, because Martin hit Spitfire in the face.

Without looking he pulled his right fist up and it connected with the gorgeous drill sergeant's chin, just like it was supposed to. Like the last time he punched a girl with orange hair (strange they way things work out), he wasn't prepared and didn’t hit with all the force contained in his own impressive bust. But he still heard the telltale *thud*, and his fist hurt the moment it connected with the hard bone. He didn’t care if she was technically innocent, he didn’t care that CHS’s fasted and strongest had just seen him hurt her friend (though he probably should’ve), he only cared about leaving

It seemed to work. He’d knocked her just slightly to the side, and she immediately did the rest by bending over to protect her now aching jaw and teeth. Time slowed down, and with freedom and haste that would make the more patriotic man shout “the British are coming!”, he shoved his left hand over his returning right, and pushed on her side to slip between her and the bench.

“Spit!” Rainbow cried out, but in an almost dull tone, as if she was just going through the motions. It was hopefully too later though, because he was already on his was out. It felt like he was walking through tar, but he brought his other one in front to, and now just 20 feet from what he perceived as ultimate freedom, he ran.

“One step. C’mon, c’mon. Two steps. C’mon, c’mon”

He was in the CHS entrance hall again, the evil presence lurking behind him. Three steps, four steps, five steps, the blue wooden door got bigger and bigger. He felt the handle within arms reach, and though he knew better than to slow down, he did put his hands out to stop himself. Slamming into it shoulder-first with a *thud* that put that last one to shame, he felt a pain in his shoulder, but he still wasted no time in grabbing the metal handle to yank back with all his might.

In a twist everyone but Martin saw coming, the door moved a millimeter (which felt like a mile with his rapid heartbeat), but then was stopped with a light *clink*. He pulled on it for almost a second longer before he realized Spitfire had had the foresight to lock it.

He shoved the door back and reached for the lock, but he’d barely put his hand on it before he felt first a rush of air behind him. Then something hit the back of his left knee, knocking it out from under him, and he grunted and fell forward into a forced kneeling position, nearly banging his face into the door. For a second he worried if either of his knees might be broken, but he didn’t feel any pain. At least, not until two hands landed on his shoulders, and threw him backwards onto the linoleum floor. This time, he did bang his head.

He shut his eyes and grunted again as he felt the thud, and everything shook. His fears of a serious injury were amplified, but when he opened his eyes a second later, the first thing he saw was a naked crotch, which meant that he had bigger problems.

Rainbow Dash had already stepped over her newly designated victim, and then dropped down to straddle his midsection.

The sudden weight on his chest painfully knocked the wind out of Martin, and opened his eyes as he jerked upwards. Unfortunately, like a closing mousetrap, she caught his wrists as they flew up, and pinned then back down above his head.

Above him, Dash was the animal pouncing her prey he first thought Celestia would become. She was panting quickly, her purple eyes were narrowed and focused, and her mouth was a grin eviler than Cel/Molestia’s but hungrier than Adagio’s. He felt a warmth seeping into his shirt where she was sitting, which he knew was only partially from the shower, but he didn’t even try to struggle underneath her. Martin had thought himself strong at one point in his life, but he knew he’d lost every bit of actual muscle the moment he heard Aria singing, and now his six-pack (which Rainbow beat by two) was just an inert band around his waist that girls liked to look at. There were alternatives to fighting though.

“Rainbow Dash, Spitfire,” though afraid, he spoke with a clarity and purpose he hadn’t felt in a week. “You’re being mind controlled. This necklace makes you horny, and it makes me obey the Dazzlings,” he reiterated what he’d told Celestia and Rarity after they’d finally calmed down and were mentally prepared to slip on the rings. “They’ve taken over Rarity and Celestia and Luna through the rings. No matter what I say later you can’t put the rings (he carried two) I brought with me on!”

At first, like talking to a therapist, simply saying what he’d been holding back to so long to someone who hadn’t already gone twenty rounds (not of dinner) with him felt incredible and filled him with purpose. But before he could form another smile at the thought of having struck his first definitive blow against the Dazzlings, he realized that Dash hadn’t even changed the nature of her breathing, much less her expression as she was told that she was being turned into a rapist against her will, and he started to feel like he was talking to a brick wall.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“I can hear you, you little slut,” The literally sopping wet teenager retorted aggressively.

“But we’ll soon fix that,” he heard Spitfire’s voice behind him, and he tilted his head back on the floor as far as he could to get the images of her reaching into her duffel bag on the bench, which he vaguely recalled having seen there earlier. She pulled out two objects, and though upside-down they were hard to recognize, one was large and silver, the other was smaller and white. “Because boys are to be seen, not heard!”

She turned towards them, and footsteps silent on the tiles, came closer. He saw that the silver thing was circular, and that the white thing was misshapen in her hand, and he forgot what he’d thought earlier about alternatives.

“No. Not now,” he thought commanded as he looked back down. He only caught sight of Dash’s pack and hairless pussy (he guessed he’d never know what rainbow pubic hair looked like), but he felt his legs were unobstructed and still bent behind that. Rainbow Dash stopped looking at Spitfire with an evil and appreciative grin, for once glad that soccer cleats and pylons needed to be patched mid-game so often, when she felt Martin shift underneath her, then slam his knee into her lower back.

She flinched, but didn’t cry out or loosen her grip on his hands. She looked behind her as Martin kneed her a second time, still which had no more effect than the first. She turned her head around again and pushed on her/Martin’s hands, trying to slide herself backwards and sit on his legs as well. Martin bore a grim expression, but when his third hit already had significantly less force than the first two, he knew he had to try the other thing he probably should’ve done earlier. He looked up at the ceiling, and pressed his voice as hard as he still remembered how.

“SOARIN! HE-” was all he got out before he saw Spitfire knelt down to swing her hand down onto his mouth.

She’d timed it perfectly, and the thankfully clean (he could deal with panties, but was dubious as to other clothing) pair of bundled up socks was halfway into his mouth instantly. Martin choked in sheer surprise, but that just let his orange haired attacker push them in further. He tried to clench his teeth and spit them out, but she dropped the duct tape and used both hands, stuffing it further and further in until she was able to slide them in sideways like a battery, and he wouldn’t be getting his voice back without the use of his hands.

She grabbed the tape again and stood back up, and both she and her friend smiled at the image of the brown-haired stallion’s handsome face choking on Spitfire’s spare pair of socks. Martin soon resumed the former part of “kicking and screaming”, but his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore, and Spitfire circled around to kneel down and start holding his feet. She caught his right foot, but needed both hands to hold it in place. She then pulled her head out of the way as his left tried to kick her, and leaned down on both of them.

“Careful. He’d a feisty one,” Rainbow Dash warned staring down triumphantly at her new captive, whose eyes had become thin and angry.

“Whether on the field or in the bedroom, insubordination is insubordination,” Spitfire repeated the idiom she’d used on Dash in their first few flings. “You have to firmly establish chain of command before you do anything else.”

“Urm Mph!” Martin groaned through his gag. Two victims at a time was a new experience for him, but he didn’t find their soccer jokes the least bit funny.

“So what, we gonna make him run a few laps for us?” Rainbow Dash sarcasmed as she looked Martin right in the eye.

“Actually,” Spitfire said as she reached for the duct tape. “I was thinking we’d run a few for him.”

It’d taken the entire roll, but Martin was right where they wanted him, and they were quite proud of their handiwork. First, they’d bound his ankles and thighs, then wrists, then in true kidnapper fashion, tied him to the nearest seat.

His current position, on a toilet, best approximated how he felt. His jeans were pulled down underneath the tape around his thighs, and extra strips of tape held his thighs to the seat, ankles to the bottom column, and forearms uncomfortably to the piping. His yet-unerection was trapped between his legs.

Standing in the locked stall with him, Spitfire and Rainbow Dash admired their prize up and down with sideways grins like a well earned trophy, and Martin was unsure how to feel. He understood now that a physical escape attempt was futile, but with the necklaces control over him suspended, being tied up felt like nothing, and he wanted to actually accomplish something before they wound down and he was a slave again.

“So,” the one of the right finally said. “It’s been ten minutes, and you still haven’t explained what you meant by running a few laps for him.”

The remainder of Spitfire’s promise made Martin’s eyes soften and turn to look at her for her response, afraid and confused.

“Weeeeell,” the flame haired instructor pulled her blue soccer shirt off so quickly both Martin and Dash gave her a look of surprise. “One thing I’ve learned from Soarin, Thunderlane, and any other boy stupid enough to try is that behind every supposedly confident cock is a pussy hungry whore.”

She quickly peeled her shirt off and tossed it into the next stall, leaving a dark blue bra to cover her considerably sized melons, but then paused and looked up.

“Except for gay boys. And asexuals. And probably some people with mental diff- POINT IS, he is, just have to show him that.”

She turned to Dash, who smiled in response. Neither of them believed what Spitfire had just said, and Martin knew it. Remembering that, he tried to keep the necklace and its effects at the forefront of his mind, and not get angry with the girls, but he knew from experience that would be difficult. They walked like Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, talked like Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, and hypothetically speaking, he had to admit this was how if Spitfire and Rainbow Dash were rapists, this was how they’d do their job (or rape more of a hobby? Questions, questions).

A still naked but by now mostly dry Dash placed her hands on the slopes of Spitfire’s breasts, before sliding her thumbs underneath the cups of her bra and pulling them up. Spitfire’s tits were almost at firm as Dash’s, and barely jiggled as they came free.

Spitfire took the straps in her hands and pulled it over her head to finish the job. With a flick of her wrists, her bra joined her blouse in the other stall, while Rainbow Dash reaffirmed her grip on her coach and on and off lover’s breasts, and gave them both a tight squeeze.

Spitfire gave a small jump when her lover grabbed her so hard so suddenly, but she was noiseless, and her confident smile quickly matched Dash’s. The two of them looked back at Martin’s eyes, which were now wide and afraid as he realized where this was going. He was mentally free now, but the duct tape, which he felt he could tear through no problem, was going to hold him back as they inevitably got him hard and then… well, then he didn’t know, but they’d already proven their sadistic creativity. They also cast a glance in unison at the elastic ring between his legs, which they’d noticed and recognized when they pulled down his pants.

Martin squeezed his legs together like he had to pee, and the two, still perfectly synchronized, turned back to each other. They’d see how long he’d last.

Rainbow gripped her coach’s breasts tight again, and shoved her against the blue stall wall, rattling the entire room. The sudden impact hurt her back a little, but no stranger to pain or Dash’s enthusiasm, Spitfire ignored it and closed her eyes to loll her head back, leaving the rest of her body open to sexual attack.

Rainbow squeezed and fondled vigorously, pushing the orbs of flesh every which way, as if trying to see how much give her round but taught milk tanks really had, which wasn’t a lot. Martin stared at both of their breasts intently, but more out of fascination. He thought about his missions to to Rarity, Celestia and Luna versus how they were now. Ignoring the fact that she now had (different) superpowers, and was evil, he thought about her breasts (and no, the idea of him skipping a girl’s personality to think about her jugs was not lost on him), and wondered what Dash’s would look like after a week under the spell. He could imagine them, flopping up and down on the soccer field, too large and full to be contained by school-issued uniforms. He also envisioned himself drinking Dash’s milk, and felt a slight twitch between his legs.

“Ugh,” Spitfire moaned as Dash gave her neck a long lick. Her tastebuds massaged her smooth skin, and left a trail of cold liquid that Dash proceeded to warm up by planting several kisses along her navel, all while still groping her mammaries. ‘Oh god, Dash.”

The smell of arousal now wafted throughout the small space, and Martin was reminded of the cold stickiness of the spot on his lower shirt where Dash had sat. Spitfire wrapped her arms around Dash’s back and placed them on her perfectly rounded and tight ass cheeks. Seeing this, Martin remembered when Sonata or Celestia would grope his ass, and could feel their hands sliding and squeezing all over his own exposed ass under the seat. He was also reminded of how they’d kiss and nuzzle his neck when they were feeling cuddly, and felt their lips and tongues underneath his heavy col-

He felt his hardening member pushing his thighs apart. And no sooner did he look down than he felt the ring tightening around his base.

Rainbow Dash was unwilling to give up her advantage to her coach, who teased and challenged her just as much in bed as on the field. As she nibbled Spitfire’s neck to distract her, Dash removed her left hand from Spitfire’s breasts and slipped it under the hem of her shorts. And just as Spitfire opened her eyes to realize what was happening, Dash stuck a single digit in and wasted no time in scratching and wiggling it around, eliciting another strong moan from her former master, who was now just the second of Rainbow’s bitches in the room.

A fire was building between Spitfire’s legs, and she opened her eyes with a hazy smile, expecting to see Dash’s normally loving face once she’d stopped attacking her neck. But Dash was still clairvoyant enough to remember why they were doing this. She looked back at Martin, who tugged his hands against the duct tape to cover his fully erect seven inches.

“That’s a good boy,” Rainbow Dash smirked, and casually pulled her hand out stepped away from her friend, causing Spitfire to stumble forwards, holding herself up by her knees and lightly panting.

Ignoring her friend’s anguish, Dash stepped over to Martin, towering above him. For three seconds the two of them stood there as Spitfire recovered. In those three seconds though, he realized that he could have just closed his fucking eyes in the past minute, and started to feel stupid. In an attempt to compensate, Martin leaned forwards as far as he could, and pulled his legs back to the same degree, forcing his erection up against his stomach and making it nigh impossible to grab or sit on. If he wasn’t gagged he might’ve given her a raspberry.

Rainbow Dash was having none of that though, and responded but punching him in the face.

With the sock in his mouth to cushion any blows to the jaw, and the constant stench of sweat and juices in his life making the destruction of his nose a favor, the forehead was probably the worst place the impossible athlete could have struck.

The world shook around him and his head flew back towards the wall. With a loud thud, the back of his head slammed into the wall, and then he slumped forwards on the toilet. The headache was instant, as he felt the pain in the back of his head from earlier come back twice as strong. His eyes went dim, and lessons about concussions, fractured skulls and internal bleeding flooded back to him. He’d been punched before, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

Martin then felt fingers around his chin, and his limp head was pulled up to look at a beige and rainbow blur.

“Horgh blub blub,” Rainbow Dash said. Okay, she didn’t really but that was all Martin could hear with his brains still unscrambling. It didn’t matter either way though, because Dash pushed against his chest, and not wanting a second fist-sized hole in his head, Martin complied to bending back to leave his cock vulnerable.

Without breaking their eye contact, Dash knelt down and wrapped her still-moist hands around his prick. It had softened somewhat from the pain, but she negated that quickly by starting to squeeze and pump both her hands. His senses had chosen the worst possible time to start working again, and Martin’s head immediately fell back, making her grin. He’d tried fighting orgasms before, and while he could tell she wasn’t as skilled as any of his current mistresses, he knew better than to give Rainbow Dash any challenge.

Her hands were aggressive and fast, pumping as hard as his own back when he still needed to masturbate. After a few seconds, Dash felt him hard and warm in her hands again, and finally looked down to start flicking her tongue across his tip, slobbering over it like a dog. Martin spasmed but didn’t look down. The painful pleasure feeling of it reminded him of what how long he’d take to cum, but he closed his eyes and remembered, once again, he’d survived it before.

Dash removed one of her hands, leaving two tight things around his base, and then swallowed him down to his midpoint. She squeezed his base harder and sucked upwards, bobbing her head up and down very quickly, as if trying to rush him to oragasm even with his ring.

This time, Martin did look down, but while his cock felt the warm bliss of her mouth, his eyes were caught by Spitfire, who had fully recovered from earlier and was now looking at both of them, hands guess-where with her own, authoritative smile.

“Well, I’m glad to see the new toy is enjoying this,”

“Hahain, hor hehing hine hunhrolled!” Martin said, but without energy, and was glad when they ignored him.

“But Dashie,” she leaned down and moved her hand towards her exposed flank. “How come he gets to cu- orgasm and not your coach?”

Rainbow Dash gave a slight shudder on Martin’s cock as Spitfire ran her index finger along the outside of her vagina, but she kept her focus and continued to blow him, as if challenging Spitfire to get her to respond.

The fact that she’d been looking him in the eye while she teased Dash however, showed Spitfire was only interested in Martin as well. She stood back up and moved around him to his right. There was little room between the toilet and the wall, but she stood tall and confident.

Martin stared back at her, fighting the urge to thrust into Dash’s mouth he had to concentrate to stop himself from thrusting back.

“Mr Saylin. Normally I’d never ask them of a rookie,”

“Hihm hnot ha hookie. Hi het haped hevhy-”

“But with the handicap of your cockring!” she shouted over his muffled protests in the voice trained to control entire fields of other teenagers. “We’re going to allow you to put that pretty face of your’s to better use and prove you’re worthy of our time.”

Martin went silent, and she dropped her shorts and underwear, revealing another smooth, moist snatch, and kicked her garments out under the door.

“Now I’m gonna to take that gag out, and you’re going to eat me out before miss Dash finishes.”

“We’ll see,” Rainbow Dash literally popped her mouth off to instinctively say upon hearing “before” predate “Dash” in a sentence. In reality though, she knew there’d be plenty of time for actual games later, but they were just fooling around. Once this was over, and Martin got over his shyness and stopped telling stories crazy even for CHS, they could be a real couple, and hey, when they were done here, there’d still be time for dinner. Maybe she could even play him a tune or two, and be his angel.

“And if I even suspect you’re calling for help, or hear one syllable about mind control or magic, or if you cum before I do,”

“-Well, heh, let’s just say we’ll add the SM to your bondage and domination,” Dash joked.

Martin understood their threat, and took a pause to weigh his options. Telling them the truth was about as helpful here as it was in online debates (which he realized would make getting them to put on the rings difficult). Calling for help? How long had it been since the game ended at 5:30, an hour? Probably less, but Soarin had almost certainly left, and janitor and faculty schedules were arbitrary, but he’d worked with them enough times to know that if anyone was still there this late, they would be so exhausted even desperate cries of “rape” wouldn’t keep them from heading home soon.

Martin looked back at her and nodded. Spitfire silently poked her finger onto the exposed part of the sock, and wiggled her finger between it and his lips to get a grasp on it’s sides. Her wiggling digit felt tickled the inside of his cheek, but Martin remained still, and allowed her to grab and dislodge the cloth bundle.

He spit the socks out of his mouth, and just like every time he was ungagged, took a deep breath and moved his sore jaw around. Spitfire raised her naked leg high and stepped over his lap, straddling him.

Rainbow Dash looked up and smiled at the view while Spitfire put her arms against the wall and leaned in, the toilet being just the right height to make her pussy edible… and bitable, from his position.

“And if you’re even thinking about using your teeth,” Rainbow Dash apparently read his mind, and he looked down to see her looking down. “An eye for an eye. A clit for a dick.”

Martin’s already cooling dick nearly went soft for good when she said that. Logically, he knew she’d never follow through with such a threat, but two weeks ago he’d known she’d never rape him. His eyes twitching back and forth between Dash’s face and Spitfire’s cunt, he slowly looked up, and stuck out his tongue.

He was used to the warm bitter taste of female arousal by now, so he closed his eyes and gave her vulva a vertical lick, sponging up all her seeped juices. Spitfire gave no response, and he could see out of the bottoms of his eyes Rainbow was still watching, so he gulped down the honey, closed his eyes, straightened his tongue, and shoved it all the way in.

Spitfire gasped at the penetration, and satisfied it was all uphill from there, Dash went back to her work. Martin felt the warmth and wetness return to his cock, but remembered what he’d learned about prioritizing during a tag team match, and concentrated on Spitfire.

She leaned in a little further, so that his forehead felt the smoothness of her skin. He first pulled his tongue in and out repeatedly, hoping she wouldn’t get jealous of what Dash had, and again, for all her authoritative demeanor, the sliding of a tongue along her walls got her panting lightly again.

Not wanting to make this too easy for him (any generally just wanting to see this adorable little stud in sexual discomfort), Rainbow Dash bobbed fast again, and swirled her tongue around his entire tip. Her hand to, she pumped harder and faster. Her movements had no coordination, and it felt like he was being serviced in two different ways at once, but her soft lips sliding up and down his length still felt really good, and was made all the more smoother by how her own spit lubed him.

His ring, to, had engorged his cock so that it resembled a sausage link. With all the extra blood trapped inside, every little sensation stung with pleasure, and her while her idly but firmly squeezing hand wouldn’t normally have felt very good, he could feel every ripple on her hand like a teasing feather, and it only forced more blood up to his cockhead.

His face began to perspire, but Martin remembered his orders. Once his thrusting had gotten her warmed up, he implemented his second aquired cunnilingal tool on Spitfire by swirling his tongue around inside her. Again, he attempted to imitate the organ vagina’s were built for (once again, he understood the misogyny implicit in his words) by trying to force her tight walls apart, but she really shook every time he brushed past her clitoris. That was the other purpose of the move; finding a clitoris. After a couple more brushes by, knowing time was off the essence, he pushed his face in as far as he could and began a direct assault by licking her cunny.

Spitfire’s knees buckled beneath her, but she managed to stay in position. Martin wasn’t sure if he could bring her to orgasm fast enough, as the feeling of warmth and bliss had spread to his entire crotch as Rainbow Dash furiously sucked on his dick. The ring would stave off orgasm for what always felt like an eternity of torment to him, but he hadn’t had the foresight to actually time it a several times and get an average TUO (Time Until Orgasm) for each position. And just as he felt like he was getting a good grip of Spitfire's engorged clit, he felt Dash’s hand disappear from his base, and his whole cock get swallowed.

It’d happened before, and it would happen again, but Martin would only figure out how one breather with seven inches of hard flesh in their mouths once his mistresses decided they liked gay porn. For a split second, Rainbow held his entire penis in a pocket dimension of warmth and body heat, then she resumed pumping up and down furiously, licking him up the first few times for moisture, than leaving it all to her lips and esophagus.

Feeling him slowing down and unable to keep his mouth in place, Spitfire took her right hand off the wall and pushed his head further into her. Her hand on the back of his head hurt, and Martin had to further crane his neck to get where she wanted him, wishing he could steady himself with his hands. Nevertheless, he wrapped his own lips around Spitfire's partially exposed clit, and tried to imagine it was one of his mistress’s nipples.

Spitfire groaned again, and Rainbow had to hold back a laugh. It wasn’t that she disrespected her coach; she literally loved her. But for all her barked orders, a skilled tongue or finger could have her moaning like an ametuer in no time flat.

Dash’s pumping had started to slow, and Martin was grateful when the attack on his penis faded into the background, allowing him to focus on Spitfire’s cunt. But with the added focus, he couldn’t help but wonder what Rainbow Dash would become after the ring. All that ego and energy focused towards a less noble pursuit was a frightening idea.

For every suck on her bud, Spitfire panted. Her whole body was wetter than Dash’s had ever been, and she was glad they were already in the shower room and she had a change of clothes, because even if he wasn’t as experienced as Dash or big like Soarin, there was something about him that just made every tiny sensation he gave her feel pitch perfect. An orgasm from him would feel better than any she’d ever had before, but why in Celestia’s name was he taking so long?!

The two of them counted down his last few sucks together, and she screamed as she squirted everything she had.

Due to their angle, only about half of her orgasm made onto his mouth, the rest dropped straight down into Rainbow Dash’s hair. Rather than taking advantage of his mostly free mouth and spitting her warm urine out though, Martin, as Rarity had ordered him to start doing, opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue to catch every drop he could. Spitfire’s eyes rolled back and she nearly collapsed backwards, but her actual orgasm only lasted a few seconds. Her loud moan quieted, and she leaned forwards, supporting her hung-over body with both her hands again.

Martin gulped down her honey, and Rainbow Dash popped off his cock again to chime in.

“Well, you think he’s worthy of my time?”

Spitfire took a deep breath, and stood stall again, brushing her hair out of her face and regaining her composure.

“Absolutely not, miss Dash. But I’d be happy to take him off your hands.”

“Oh c’mon,” Rainbow Dash stood up, leaving his cock to face the painful cooling down with enhanced sensitivity. “You already got Soarin. I saved the fucking world, why can’t I-”

“You do *gulp* realize I’m- I’m-” Martin tried to protest, but hesitated, as if he’d forgot something. But before he could realize what it was, Spitfire gave him a backhand slap across the face for his insolence.

Martin flinched to the side, and felt both a stinging in his cheek and red swelling in his mouth, but he didn’t cry out, and remained calm.

“And rule number one of coach Spitfire is: ‘No back talk’”

Martin recognized the order not from his mistresses (they’d never needed to give it), but from several of his foster parents, and it made him nostalgic for the days when rules needed to be enforced.

“You’re lookin kinda sweaty,” Rainbow Dash teased, and gave Spitfire a firm slap on the ass. “Why don’t you go hit the showers while my date and I talk about dinner.”

Spitfire barely flinched.

While they talked, Martin envisioned the entire magical six as Dazzlings. Celestia and Luna had already complained about how difficult keeping up appearances, especially wearing those horribly dull and uncomfortable pantsuits, and Rarity had said she was already etching some ideas for them and their friends. The image that came to his mind of them all as sirens was, ironically, like a superhero team; Adagio, Sonata and Aria in the center, with the six in whatever new outfits best suited their new evil personalities, all behind them in a triangle, with the principals on either side and a sunset (Not Sunset Shimmer. An actual one) in the background. For symmetry purposes, he didn’t feel comfortable adding Spitfire to that image, but when he asked himself where he fit in, the only place that came to mind was wearing only a thong and a collar, and lying at Adagio’s feet, his arms around her leg. Was this the future?

“How about we all take a shower together,” Spitfire suggested.

“Yep. Looks like it,” Martin thought.

“That’s gonna be pretty hard while he’d still tied up,” Rainbow pointed out.

Realizing she was right, Spitfire looked back at Martin.

“Well, shit,” she looked down at his waning member, before Rainbow pushed passed her.

“Hey Martin,” Rainbow Dash said as she reached down and parted her folds. “How about we test that wedding ring of yours with a real athlete?”

“You’re being mind controlled,” Martin reminded lazily, distracted by her crotch.

“Well the two of you never told me it was this much fun!”