"Tell me, Icicle—what does it mean to submit?"

Icicle swallowed. "To...let somepony else do what they want to you?"

Cadance's smile felt less lusty than motherly—as though she were a kindly mentor teaching him the ways of the world, rather than a strapping young mare with her ass wrapped around the width of his cock. "So," she said, eyes twinkling faintly, "would the best submissive resemble a dead fish?"

Icicle blinked—and then groaned softly. Cadance's rear cheeks, so perfectly soft and plump, felt like heaven sliding across his ever-so-stiff stallionhood. As he gathered his thoughts, she gave her hips a little wriggle before suddenly clenching her cheeks around his turgid member. He hiccuped—gasped—thoroughly losing the thoughts he'd just so carefully assembled.

"I—" He gritted his teeth, trying to push through the haze of pleasure centered around his crotch. His hooves twitched uselessly; one of the first things Cadance had done at the start of their session had been to tie both his forelegs against the sides of the bed. He lay powerless beneath her, useless except to grunt and flex as she tormented him with pleasure.

She raised an eyebrow, cool and collected. Icicle hiccuped again, and took a deep breath.

"N-no," he said. The image of the beautiful mare above him humping a cold, dead fish was so silly that he couldn't help but snicker at it. "That'd be—kinda pointless, wouldn't it? You'd only have one pony doing anything."

Cadance hummed thoughtfully. "Indeed. So what is the role of a submissive, then?"

Icicle's brows furrowed—just in time for Cadance to plunge her heart-shaped hips downward, letting his lube-slathered prick pierce between her plump, wobbling cheeks with all the grace of a waterfall. "Ngh," he grunted, eyes squeezing shut. "Th-that's not helping me think."

"What is?" Cadance said. Both eyebrows went up, a look of innocent offense in her gaze. As she spoke, she smooshed her rump against his thighs, one cheek at a time. Icicle groaned as he felt his pre-dripping flare swish across the curve of her back. "I'm just helping entertain my pupil while he learns."

"Fat lot of good it's—unf—helping." Icicle drew a ragged breath, feeling his member stir against Cadance's hot, slick fur. The princess only smiled atop him.

"Oh, I don't know," she purred. Her hoof walked forward across his belly—then pressed down on his chest, her ankle pressing into a tuft of his bright-blue fur. Icicle swallowed as Cadance leaned forward, her shapely figure looming to fill his entire vision. "I'd say that a nice fat cock will help any sub looking to please his dom. The question is..."

"How?" he croaked. Satisfied, Cadance nodded, and eased the pressure from her hoof.

Icicle licked his lips. Admittedly, it was still somewhat difficult to think with a gorgeous princess' well-padded hips still grinding against his engorged prick. He could feel his balls, dense and heavy, pressing against the insides of his thighs, their contents sloshing with each sway of his weighty cock. He exhaled, tried to ignore the way his whole core seemed to...focus around Cadance's ass—and spoke.

"I—well, if it's not doing nothing," he began, voice unsteady, "then it has to be doing something." Cadance gave him a look, and he shot her a glare. "Hey, I'm not Twilight Sparkle, okay?"

She smirked, but didn't reply. Instead, she moved to begin lightly massaging his belly, even as her hips jerked up and down his shaft with ever-more forceful motions. Icicle stifled the urge to choke in pleasure as her well-rounded flanks glided across his turgid length, pillow-soft flesh squishing against throbbing veins and his broad-flared head. No; he had to keep his thoughts clear. This was part of the lesson, too.

"Su—submitting," he said, "is about g-giving up control."

Cadance's hooves flexed around his abdomen. He shivered as he felt her pussy, well-lubricated and puffy with obvious arousal, sliding across the bottom of his belly. "How?"

Icicle's legs flexed around his nuts, and he felt his cock arch straight up to press against Cadance's hide. He wasn't quite large enough to reach her shoulders—though he'd seen Shining's size, and was envious and awed by the General's incredible endowment—but she made him feel pleasured just as easily.

"It—" He wheezed as a splurt of his precum splattered against Cadance's shoulders. He couldn't see it, but a moment later, he could feel it: a warm, runny wetness gliding slickly around the curvature of his shaft. His balls were tighter than before, each thrust of her cheeks hot-dogging around his prick leaving the pressure worse than before. "I-it means wanting to please them, n-no matter what. K-knowing that they know how to make you feel good, and that m-making them feel good m-makes you feel good."

Cadance's smile curved wider, until she resembled little more than a lioness eyeing her prey. "Interesting," she said.

And she rolled her weight off of him.

Icicle lay there, hooves shackled to the headboard, chest heaving, tongue panting, as he watched his cock pulse and throb and flex in the naked air. The thin sheen of lubricant turned cool, the warmth of Cadance's ass vanishing in a heartbeat. And then his core clenched—

Cadance's smile made him squirm. She leaned in close to his cock, lips less than an inch away. His gaze strayed to her heart-shaped rear pressed against the bedspread—then tore back to her face when she spoke again.

"I've brought you fully to the edge," she murmured. "You know the safeword."

He squirmed in his bonds. The feeling of her hot, moist breath against the skin of his member drove him crazy. It was maddening. His balls felt so full—his rod felt so hard—

Those full lips pursed, smiled. "Just one little word," Cadance purred. "Just say it, and I'll let you cum. Isn't that what you want?"

Icicle's voice was ragged, but he was proud that he didn't let it shake. "N-no, princess."

One elegant eyebrow arched. "Oh? Why not?"

"B-because." He swallowed—then bit down a groan of frustration. She had her muzzle nearly between his balls now, swollen nuts tormented by her hot exhalation, his sloshing, taut sack ready to pump its contents at a moment's notice. "B-because a dom always knows what's best for her s-sub."

Cadance's smile widened.

"Then cum."

And she drove her muzzle down over his throbbing shaft, lips parted, nostrils flared, all the way to the base.

Icicle choked—and then cried out. His hips jerked, muscles flexing, as his cock unleashed its semen stores straight down the princess' throat. His shaft pumped, shuddered, and shook, each thrash of his body splattering Cadance's throat with a fresh load of spunk. His balls sloshed, churned, entire pints of his cum spraying down her throat and into her belly like a firehose.

And she never broke eye contact. She merely stared him down, unblinking, as she deepthroated his climaxing cock, the muscles of her esophagus swallowing, vibrating, and humming around each fresh jet of jizz his tortured balls offered up.

Finally, the tide subsided. Icicle's body, flexed and strained, finally flopped back, his arched back hitting the mattress with a thwump. Cadance slowly, but meaningfully drew her muzzle back. Cum oozed down the sides of his member, a thick, creamy spooge that pooled in his sack—but she didn't spill so much as a drop from her mouth. She only licked her muzzle once, tidying up a final rope of his seed, and then swallowed.

He lay there, panting, drained, as she drew herself up above him.

"Very good," Cadance said, smiling. "I'd say you've passed."