"I'll ask you again: How many orgasms?!"

"I– nnngh, I don't know!"

"Sounds like he needs a few more moments to 'think,' Private Derpy!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

My pegasus lover smothered my face beneath her enormous rear again. Trixie continued to stroke my cock with her hands, while her magic enchanted the base of my cock, delaying an orgasm that was almost a half-hour late now. Both mares were wearing golden Royal Guard helmets – the female guard armor could only contain so much boob, but the helmets by themselves were generic and plentiful.

I pulled at the magical cuffs holding my wrists, to no avail. I vigorously shook my head back and forth, jiggling the two huge asscheeks on either side of my head. Derpy lifted her butt off my face and looked at me upside-down. "It's okay, mister," she said in a disproportionately sweet tone of voice. "Just tell her what she wants and you can let allll that cum out."

Since when does the Good Cop literally smother the perp? part of my brain demanded. Then Trixie licked my turgid, throbbing cockhead, and my entire lower body trembled in anticipation of an orgasm that just... wasn't... coming. In comparison, facesitting wasn't so bad.

"It's very simple," Trixie said, a dangerous edge to her voice. "How many orgasms, including masturbation, did you have from the moment you got the power to the end of your confrontation with the Princess? This shouldn't be hard – sex was practically all you were doing."

Half-delirious, I shouted, "I told you, it was a lot! I'm thinking!"

"Thinking, or stalling?" Royal Guard Trixie mused, then lovingly tugged my aching ballsack with her hand. "It's a shamefully high number, isn't it? But these balls will stop being blue as soon as you tell me..."

Truth told, I really was trying to count. Every single encounter had been so mindblowing, I didn't want to gloss over or forget a single one. But holy shit, by any measurable standard, I'd really gone on a sexual rampage. It was especially hard to count the ones during orgies or the couple of times I went three times or more with a single partner. And then there was the encounter with sex-crazed fatalistic Celestia, which had me lapsing in and out of consciousness multiple times and blacking out, so I could only assume she had fucked me all night and into the morning. I could still hear her panting like a dog...

"Hmm, he's gone quiet. Private, maybe you can jog his memory..."

"48!" I blurted. "G-Give or take a couple, and I only remember 4 from Celestia, but that's how many!"

"Really?" Trixie cooed, tightening her grip around my member. "Why that's... 16 per day. You've been a naughty boy, haven't you?"

I could hardly believe it myself, but at this point I would say anything to cum. "Yes! Yes I am!"

Trixie finally released her magic blocker and stroked my shaft furiously. What happened next was excruciating, like the flashpoint of an orgasm playing out in slow motion. First my urethra felt real hot, then semen started to bubble out of my cumslit in copious amounts, and then the spasms actually began.

"Woaahh!" Derpy gasped as my cumshots sailed over their heads and halfway to the ceiling. My eyes threatened to roll back into my head from the intensity. It just seemed to go on forever in an attempt to drain every last drop from me.

Finally, it tapered off and started to shrink and dribble in the busty unicorn's hands. My hands were now free, so I just held them against my head and groaned, "Fucking hell, Trixie..."

I couldn't see it past Derpy's rear end, but Trixie had caught all the semen I'd shot upward in a great big telekinetic ball, and with a zap it all disappeared. "Seriously, though," she said, licking the remaining cum off her fingers (hey wait), "48 orgasms in 72 hours? For all your talk about body issues and performance anxiety, that's pretty impressive even for a stallion."

"The... The procedure on Friday helped a lot..." I gasped out. "It picked up after that."

"Trixie..." Derpy muttered, and you could just hear the grumpy frown on her face.

"What?" Trixie asked innocently, sucking her fingers clean.

"You're doing it again."

Trixie looked down at her hands as if mildly surprised. "Hmm, so I am," she replied in a not terribly convincing way. "Whoops."

"That's the third time!" Derpy accused her, as she adjusted and sat down on my chest. "And you keep saying you're not a junkie?"

The great and powerful unicorn got up and stretched, then started unstrapping her helmet so she could carefully lift it off her horn. "Look, I just don't buy it. Celestia might still have it bad, but the rest of us have been living just fine without human semen for nearly 1300 years. I personally think we've evolved past it."

"Some ponies have," I muttered, rubbing stars out of my eyes. Derpy got up from my chest and sat down beside me, and I pulled down a cushion to prop up my head. "I think you're half-right, but different ponies responded to different aspects of my... human-ness across those three days. I think depending on your genetics or your personality, the taste might not get you but the pheromones will, or the aesthetics."

"So maybe I'm one of those ponies that isn't all that affected by it," Trixie argued.

Derpy folded her arms above her boobs. "That's still one heck of a risk to take before we get him cured! What if it's the sort of thing that builds up over time?"

Trixie stroked her chin for a few moments, then shrugged. "You might have a point there. For the record, I just think it's tasty and a mild aphrodisiac to me. Mostly, it's just..." She growled in frustration and stomped a foot on the carpet. "I'm dying for a deep dicking. No offense to your tongue, Pasky, but fuck."

I groaned out in sympathy. Over the past four or five hours (excepting lunch), I'd gotten boobjobs, handjobs, magicjobs, even a buttjob... But now I was really starting to crave a wet pussy or a warm mouth or even a tight ass – just any sort of tight, lubricated penetration. My basic breeding instincts had been crying out for attention all day, making me want pussy-sex the most. Here I was, the outercourse addict, quietly craving some basic vanilla. It was kind of sad, really.

"I'm fine..." Derpy mumbled contritely.

"Sure you are, Miss I-Can-Get-Full-Body-Orgasms-Just-From-My-Nipples," Trixie grumbled back, swishing her tail. After thinking for a second, she continued, "I know it's a long shot, but do you think there are any sex shops in town? I think a few toys would help us get across the finish line here."

I raised an eyebrow. "Under Prude-cess Celestia's watchful eye? You think she'd allow that?" Both girls giggled at the stupid pun, which made me feel a lot better.

"It's not like she's outright banned them," Trixie said once she'd stopped chuckling, "not unless she wants a revolution of lonely mares on her hands. I'm sure if you make it 'normal' for us to ask around, we'll find it in a snap."

"Sure, permission granted."

Derpy got up off the bed and walked across the room to open one of the big windows, letting the combined musk of our fuckfest-in-progress start to slowly filter out. "If we're going out," she said, "maybe we can get our own air freshener? So we don't have to keep waiting for the staff to spray this room."

"Sounds good," I said, "but if it's all the same to you two... I think I wanna rest." I rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes. "Fucking orgasm denial... I am not ready for that level of play yet."

Trixie grinned as she slipped into her leotard. "Hey, it's just payback for that stunt at the doughnut shop."

Oh, right, I suppose I had tried to mentally deny her during our first fuck with Moondancer. I guess fair was fair. "Still though..."

"Fiiiiiine."

"Should we get permission to get this stuff for free?" Derpy asked as she flew over to the door. "I didn't exactly bring my wallet."

Trixie levitated her hat and pulled a bit-pouch out of it, but stopped as she heard Derpy's question. "I'll definitely second that."

I raised my hands and started counting off on my fingers. "One, I don't wanna push to see which force is more powerful, Normal or Capitalism. I want to have an income and be paying for things eventually. Two, if you run into a pony with a business cutie mark, it's not gonna work. Three, I'd rather not give you blanket permission to rob a store blind."

"Phooey," Trixie muttered just a little bit sarcastically, putting her hat on her head. "Lucky for you two I'm on vacation and have cash to burn." She opened the door and said, "Shall we, Derpy?"

"Only my friends call me Derpy," the pegasus said abruptly.

That put Trixie rather suddenly on the spot. "Uh, well..."

Just as quickly, Derpy went back to smiling. "Yes, friend, let's get going," she said, walking past Trixie and giving her a pat on her dumbfounded cheek.

Trixie just stared for a second, then scoffed and waved to me. "See you in a bit, Pascal."

"See ya," I mumbled back as they left the room. A minute later, I was out like a light.

I didn't immediately know how much time had passed when I woke up, but Derpy and Trixie were not back yet. All I knew was that I was parched as hell. I rolled out of bed and walked over to the endtable where a pitcher of ice-water and some glasses were laid out on a fancy tray. Thankfully, the water was still very cold and refreshing, despite the muggy atmosphere of the room. I had to wonder if the pitcher was enchanted to keep it cold. Which made me wonder what did and didn't get commonly enchanted in this universe, because it looked to me to be somewhat inconsistent...

There was a knock at the door to the hallway. This surprised me. The door wasn't locked, and if the girls were back they could just walk right in. If Celestia was looking for a 'feeding,' she would just teleport in and make sure no one saw her. If it was the housekeeping staff, they'd just walk right in too, since we kinda needed them to change the sheets regularly and had no need for a 'Do Not Disturb' door hanger thanks to my power. Who would be knocking, then? Was it a guard with some kind of urgent message?

I chugged the rest of my water, grabbed a robe from the bathroom to wrap around my waist (so I wasn't answering the door completely nude), and went to open the door. Out in the hallway was an orange, gold-maned earth pony in a mulberry pantsuit.

"Ms. Harshwhinny?"

"Mr. Pascal," said the Equestria Games Inspector, smirking at my half-naked appearance. Her muzzle scrunched up as the wave of muggy musk from my room hit her nostrils, and she waved her hand in front of her face. "Whoo! It certainly seems like you've been... busy."

"You could say that," I replied. This was a mare who had turned the tables on me and laughed in my face when I tried to pass myself off as a 'Professional Breast Inspector,' so I didn't feel like I had any dignity left to defend from her – which was oddly freeing. "What brings you over to my neck of the woods?"

Ms. Harshwhinny seemed to adjust to the smell as quickly as she could. "I just finished my meeting with the Princess – you know, the one you forced me to reschedule."

I looked over at the wall clock. It was just a few minutes after two o'-clock in the afternoon. Trixie and Derpy had left at around 1:35, and I didn't know when they'd be back.

"I found myself curious about you again," Harshwhinny continued, "so I asked the guards on my way out if they knew where you were. Imagine my surprise when they told me you were a guest in the Palace! And now, here we are."

"Well, I appreciate the, uh, check-up," I replied, one hand keeping my towel up and the other idly playing with the doorknob. "But what are you so curious about? Didn't think I made that much of an impression."

"You certainly did. May I?"

"Of course." I stepped aside and allowed her to walk into the room, and closed the door behind us.

Harshwhinny looked around. "Alone?" she said incredulously. "You generated this muck by yourself?"

"No, no, the girls are out–"

"The 'girls'!" Harshwhinny exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "You picked up more companions?!"

I mouthed 'here we go again' under my breath. "Yeah... Look, you gotta understand, what you saw at the doughnut shop was just the beginning. It was tame compared to the craziness we got up to later."

"Hmmmm," the middle-aged mare hummed slyly. "You'll have to tell me about it someday. I'm afraid I have other business to get to, however, so I only have so much time."

"Uh... Time for what?" I asked a little nervously.

Harshwhinny, her back to me, unwrapped her pink neck scarf and tossed it onto the bed. She turned around, unbuttoning her coat. "Why, another 'inspection,' of course." Maintaining her usual grace, she slipped out of her coat and tossed it aside, then lifted her white shirt over her head and tossed it too, leaving her only in her pants and a black, utilitarian G-cup bra.

I was completely taken aback; my right eye twitched and I let out a staggered laugh. "P-Professional Breast Inspection...?!"

"Yes!" She reached back and unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall away from her perky orange breasts. "Don't tell me you've lost your appetite for it."

Fat chance of that. "Haha... Uh, I just didn't realize you... liked it that much? I thought it was a gag that backfired, y'know, and you were just humoring me. You certainly seemed to be getting plenty of humor out of it..."

"Then let me be absolutely clear." She looked around, found the one comfy armchair in the room, and went to sit down. "Considering what I was there for, I left that doughnut shop in a very good mood, very comfortable and relaxed. I legitimately enjoyed your breast massage." She spread her still-clothed legs and straightened her back to present her tits as directly as possible. The necklace still around her neck highlighted her bare shoulders and the upper swells of her mammaries. "And before I embark on a long train ride to Manehattan to pass along a less-than-ideal report to the Equestria Games Board, I thought another one would be just the thing for me."

My lagging brain suddenly caught up fast. Sometimes free boobs were stupefying, and sometimes they were an easy way to wake me the fuck up. "Well then... Who am I to say no?" I said as suavely as I could manage. I approached the armchair and, after a moment to consider, dropped the towel from my waist. Harshwhinny's eyes dipped down only for a second to admire my tackle, but nothing indicated she thought my nudity crossed a line.

I knelt down between her legs and raised my hands to gently cup those breasts. G-cups were pretty small by adult mare standards, but they were still more than handfuls for me. And Harshwhinny's were exceptionally firm, just like I remembered them. They practically leapt off her chest, forming a spherical shape with only the slightest bit of sag. Next to impossible on a normal woman her age, I figured, but anthro ponies lived in a magical universe where breasts always looked sexy. Of course, now I knew why, but...

Time to put that out of my mind. I rubbed with my palms along the sides of both breasts, then around and down the cleavage. With my fingers, I stroked from the outside and converged on each nipple, then pinched and wobbled both tits. They bounced with more energy than I expected, as though their perkiness temporarily disappeared as soon as someone applied force to them, only to return to a firm rest.

Harshwhinny sighed as though a weight was lifted off her shoulders and sunk back into the armchair. "Hands as magical as before... You really should consider doing something like this full-time; otherwise it's such a waste of your talents."

I had to wonder, did her reaction have something to do with another aspect of the whole humanity thing? Or did it just boil down to 'mares are easy to please but repressed so they don't know it'? Because I had a hard time believing my fumbling and groping was anything near expert. But I didn't want to dump all that on her, so I just asked, "Really? No one else has given these the attention they deserve?" before I pressed my face into her cleavage and smooshed them against my cheeks.

Chuckling, she replied, "If you're asking about my sex life... there's no Mr. Harshwhinny. No time, really. Just the occasional one-night stand, always professional and discreet."

"Shame," I remarked, pulling away from her boobs, cupping them, and giving them another vigorous shake. She really seemed to like having them bounce, judging by the way she cooed.

"I don't think it's that much of a shame," she said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, "just not what I'm looking for in my day-to-day."

"Yeah, I can get that." I gave her a quick kiss on both nipples, teasing her with my mouth before going back to rubbing in circles.

I didn't need to look down to know that my cock was mostly chubbed and rubbing against my thigh. A pang of desire crept through me, along with more than its fair share of temptation. I was dying for some old-fashioned in-out. Harshwhinny was a prime target. I'd never fucked her before, so the risk of addiction was low. She wouldn't have a problem with it, no one in my inner circle would have a problem with it; there was nothing stopping me. All I had to do was ask.

Eventually, I managed to force it down. I didn't have to fight for my life anymore, and we had a plan to find a cure. Any risk of addiction at this stage was still an unnecessary risk. If nothing else, I had to prove to myself that I could resist a few base urges for a single day.

"Enough about me. How did your meeting with the Princess go?" Harshwhinny asked. "The one you said was 'life-or-death and the future of Equestria at stake'?"

That question gave me pause. I didn't want to say too much. "Well... I'm still standing, and Equestria's still standing, so... All things considered, I think we got the best possible outcome."

Harshwhinny grinned. "Good, good. Wouldn't want Equestria's premiere caretaker of all things breasts to be– snnrrkkhhkk!" She broke out into snickers, covering her mouth with her hand.

I rolled my eyes and focused on my task. Though I wasn't sure what the endgame here was, besides Harshwhinny's relaxation. She told me herself her breasts weren't as sensitive as other girls, so I wasn't going to get a boobgasm out of her. And I didn't detect the telltale smells of mare arousal. She was just here for a bit of casual breast worship. Y'know, like you do. Because that's Normal.

When she finally calmed down, Harshwhinny said with a grin, "And what of your future as a Profressional – hmhm! – Breast Inspector? Put any more thought into it?"

Another question I had to think about. Though it had started as an admitted gag, the events that unfolded on Saturday night and Sunday morning kind of took my professional future in a possibly legitimate direction. "Actually," I said as I placed my fingers under both breasts and started gently bouncing them, "I think I might end up as more of a, I dunno, sex therapist."

"Aha! No point, mmm, restricting yourself to just one set of pleasures, hmm?"

I shrugged and bounced her tits some more. "Breasts will still probably be a big part of it, let's be honest."

"Indeed, haha!"

Narrowing my eyes for a second, I pulled back my hands and shifted back a few inches on my knees. "In fact... I've noticed that mares' breasts tend to be sort of characteristic of their owner. So, for instance, in your case..."

"Really?" Harshwhinny leaned forward, cupping her breasts in her hands and presenting them to me teasingly. "By all means, give me your 'reading,' Mr. Pascal."

I sighed and suppressed a chuckle, but tried to get back on point. "You bind yours up tightly. No jiggling, no distractions. Just like your carefully maintained reputation. But as soon as the clothes come off – as soon as the defenses come down – suddenly your exuberance knows no bounds; you're just bursting with energy. Same goes for your tits!" I raised a finger and pointed at those lovely orange globes. "True or false: When you're facing the mirror or in the shower or just putting on clothes in the morning, you like to hop on the arches of your feet or shimmy your shoulders, really get 'em bouncin' and shakin'. Consciously or not."

Harshwhinny's eyes widened, then narrowed, and then she settled a slight smirk in my direction. "Hmmmmm! Maybe! And what would you suggest based on this expert insight, Counselor?"

The best I could manage in response was a weak shrug. "Uh, next time you're on one of your 'professional' and 'discreet' one-night stands, let them know that you'd appreciate some energetic foreplay?"

The mare's face fell a little bit and she stared off into space disdainfully. "Hmm, in the wrong circles, though, that sort of information spreading could be seen as a sign of weakness. It would depend on if I trust my 'date.'"

I threw up my hands. "Well, I tried." We both chuckled at that, and I added, "Frankly, ma'am, you don't really look like you need a sex therapist. You're confident, you know what you want, you seem comfortable with your sexuality and the balance it has with your work... There's only so much I can do!"

A bit of a smile pushed up Harshwhinny's sharp cheeks. "I suppose I should consider myself lucky in that regard, and that is the real takeaway." She got up from the chair and rolled her shoulders (which had the side effect of bouncing her boobs a couple of times, I noticed). "Still, not everyone goes to a therapist only when they're in crisis, just like it's wise to see your doctor even if you're not feeling sick. Sometimes, it's just worthwhile to keep a helpful professional on retainer."

If you can afford it, I thought to myself. Man, I'm really gonna have to think about pricing soon, aren't I...? Then a thought occurred to me, and I gave the mare a sneaky look. "Ahhh, so you're getting your free sessions in while you can, aren'tcha?"

Harshwhinny began a laugh that started as a chortle and then transformed into full on belly-laughter, making her whole bare torso quiver. "Oh sure, yes, 'free!' For the low low price of letting a human put his hands on my mounds."

"I thought we established that was the whole point of this visit," I pointed out playfully, standing up and retrieving my towel.

The mare winked and walked past me towards the bed. "Just pointing out the natural incentives on your end. You'd do this for free anyway if money was no object, wouldn't you?"

I laughed. "Well, demonstrably."

Harshwhinny responded with a happy hum and picked up her bra off the sheets. Without asking me to turn around or avert my eyes, she set the cups in place, lifted the straps over her shoulders, and then presented the ends of the clasp to me. "Would you mind...?"

"Sure," I said automatically, and helped her set the clasps into place (with a little fiddling; it wasn't like I'd seen a lot of bras in this magical world or the one before). A little wistfully, I looked at the wall clock – it hadn't been a great deal of time since Ms. Harswhinny had walked in. "Leaving so soon?"

"I only– Thank you. I only had so much time, I'm afraid." Moving a little more quickly, she started to put on her white shirt. "If I let you 'play' any longer... well, I would have to catch a different train to Manehattan. And maybe I wouldn't mind so much." She gave me a warm smile as she adjusted her necklace so that it was on top of her shirt, then reached for the jacket. "But my professional reputation is staked on, among other things, timeliness. If I show up exactly on time, every time, everypony who works with me knows to be exactly on time too. It's a very useful tool."

These days I also feel like a very useful tool, my brain snarked. I let it slide – I was trying to limit the self-flagellating inner monologue stuff like Luna suggested, but I was willing to make an exception for bad puns. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you."

"Your understanding is very much appreciated." Harshwhinny wrapped the pink scarf around her neck, completing her look. You wouldn't have guessed that this horse-woman had just willingly had her breasts groped for a few precious minutes. Though she certainly looked just a hair more relaxed, and had a certain spring in her step. She offered her hand for a shake, which I accepted, and she said, "Pleasure meeting you again, Mr. Pascal."

"I'd say it was all mine," I replied, "but I think we can agree it was shared in this case."

"Agreed," she said, and started making her way to the door.

I watched her leave, still wearing nothing more than a towel held haphazardly in front of my genitals, and pondered the crazy events of the past few minutes. As she opened the door, ready to truly leave my life for a while, I found myself burning to ask one question before she had to go. "Hey, Ms. Harshwhinny?"

She paused at the doorframe. "Yes?"

Sheepishly, I asked, "Why do you find this so funny? Like, I get that you don't have a problem with any of this, but... Is it really that stupid?"

"Stupid?" she echoed. Harshwhinny shook her head and thought about it for a moment. "No, stupid's not the word... I guess I just find it very surprising." Looking directly into my eyes from across the room with her big blues, she said, "I'm not laughing because I think it's crazy. Well, part of it's crazy, especially the part about what you get out of it. But I'm honestly shocked that no one's ever tried something like this before, especially in such a brazen, but approachable, way. I like the idea, Mr. Pascal. Quite a lot. I hope it goes far."

"Well, thank you," I said, nodding my head at her and feeling quite a bit better. "I hope I do your endorsement justice."

"As well you should," Harshwhinny replied, nodding her head back. "...Have a good evening, Mr. Pascal."

"Same to you," I said, and watched the door close behind her.

That was officially weird.

Sure, okay, part of it was definitely the Normal affecting her mind. (Was I still calling it the Normal? It was definitely easier on the tongue than saying 'the Acceptance' all the time. The latter sounded like I was talking about an awards ceremony speech.) But emotion, logic, and opinion was still a two-way street with this power, which meant part of it also had to be how she'd react if, say, fondling a mare's breasts under the guise of therapy was a perfectly acceptable idea. The enthusiasm and humor was all coming from her.

Where did my influence stop and another being's thinking begin? Could I even track the gradient? To what degree was I responsible for another pony's actions?

My shoulders drooped as I came to the depressing realization that the 'mind control carousel' way of circular thinking had never truly gone away. The spiraling debate during the first three days had been, 'Am I falling down the slippery slope into total corruption?' Now that I knew there was a solid foundation to my morality, the question had changed to, 'How much of other people's behavior should I blame myself for? All of it? None of it? Only the weird parts? Does that obligate me to make corrections?'

Another reason I needed companions like Derpy and Trixie. All alone, I could spin every side of an issue in my head until the cows came home. Having someone to call me out on my bullshit and focus on tangible effects in the real world, rather than edge cases and hypotheticals, served as a helpful circuit breaker. I guess part of me hoped that I was past some of that, but nope – my brain still worked like my brain.

Hell, considering the existential battle I'd just been through, there was a small comfort in knowing my brain had the same flaws as ever. That at least meant it was my brain, not a pony's.

Thankfully, I didn't have to stew in my own thoughts for long. It was only a few minutes later when the door burst open and my two extremely busty mares came through. Derpy had a can of air freshener ready to go, giving it a few test sprays around the room and giggling with glee. Trixie was levitating a paper bag, which utterly failed to hide the head of the black horsecock dildo sticking out of it.

"I hope that's not for me," I said, laying on the bed and pointing at the dildo.

"Oh, we've got other things for you," Trixie assured me. "Are you ready to get back in the fray, stud?"

Honestly, after a break for my balls to recharge, and a bit of stimulating foreplay with Ms. Harshwhinny (that I would tell the girls about later), I was raring to go. "I think I've got a few left in me," I said with unusual confidence. "Bring it on."