“Barracks are passable,” Spitfire stated to the impeccable line of Wonderbolts. The barracks were decked out in perfectly-positioned Hearth’s Warming ornaments, pictures, and knicknacks, all in preparation for the visiting dignitaries during the season. “Passable. The decorations are classic, but safe. I want to see something truly great! Do Wonderbolts rest on our laurels!?”

The Wonderbolts, all standing at the feet of their beds, shouted in unison. “Ma’am, no, ma’am!”

“Good! When I check again after practice this evening–” She got up into Wave Chill’s face. “–I wanna see some Celestia-damned tinsel! Got that?”

Wave Chil saluted. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

She picked a small pill from her otherwise picturesque Wonderbolt jacket. “That’s what I like to hear. Now–”

Her ears pricked up when she heard the tiniest snicker, and she whipped around and faced the culprit before he’d even drawn a breath. “Something funny, Soarin’?”

“No, ma’am!” Soarin’ responded, averting his gaze upwards as he puffed out his chest. “Just excited for the annual gift-giving, ma’am!”

Spitfire growled. “Well, good, because this year I’m getting you two-hundred laps for laughing during inspection!”

Soarin’ grinned. “Worth it, ma’am!”

Spitfire sneered as a few other Wonderbolts temporarily stifled small laughs of their own. “Alright, chuckleheads. Get out there and practice. The Hearth’s Warming show is in four days, and I want you all to be perfect. Wave Chill, you’re on evaluation duty. Wonderbolts, scramble!”

“Yes, ma’am!” they shouted together. Without another word, they crouched down in perfect synchronization, and one by one, they took off flying towards the practice fields, just like they had thousands of times before.

As the last of them flew out the door, Spitfire allowed herself a satisfied nod. “Good work, team,” she said softly. She noticed a display of the pegasi from the first Hearth’s Warming was rotated a few too many degrees to the side, and she quickly corrected it. “Not great, but good.”

With the sounds of flapping outside, Spitfire grabbed her clipboard, shoved her pencil into her teeth, and fluttered back towards her office while she reviewed the upcoming stunt program.

She had just about finished going over the full program when she arrived back at her office. “Is there room for one more tower spiral?” she asked herself aloud. “The relief team will be worn out, but it would add to the overall effect…” She mumbled to herself as she reached into her pocket, pulled out her key, and stuck it into the door with the frosted glass. “Maybe just a flyover? Could fill the sky with a contrail if we–”

Spitfire stopped in her tracks. The door was unlocked. With a snort of hot air, she threw open the door, and what she saw made her snap the pencil in her mouth in half with her jaw.

Her office looked the same as usual – giant window, intimidating desk, some big filing cabinets and a few banners and rugs with the official insignia on it – but there was a new addition. On her desk, in bright, red, shiny paper, was a gift with a big tag.

Spitfire landed and roared, “Who in Celestia’s name has been in my office?” She stomped in, slammed the door behind her, and slapped the clipboard onto her desk. With a snort, she picked up the package.

It was hefty, weighing at least a few pounds. She felt it and grumbled, “Somepony is just asking for another hundred lap.” She flipped over the tag. In big, black letters, it simply read, “Can you guess who?” She squinted at the writing. It was clearly disguised, and even with her keen eyes, she couldn’t tell whose hoofwriting it was.

“Huh,” she said. Wasting no time, she ripped the paper off and opened the cardboard box inside. “Oh, son of a–!”

Lying inside the box, a foot and a half long, made of red-and-white-striped silicone, was a bespoke, hoof-made dildo, balls and all. Not believing her eyes, she picked it up and felt it. It was real, and inside the box was a small sample of lube and card that read, “From your favorite stallions.”

Spitfire seethed, her face redder than the wrapping paper, and her jaw clenched tight enough to crack open a glass jar. She slammed the dildo down onto her desk, balls first. “Dammit!” The semi-soft cock bounced around like a bobblehead while its thick base stayed firmly on her desk.

Spitfire’s eyes jerked towards the giant window, and her stomach dropped. Her Wonderbolts were out there practicing, but even from a distance, she could tell that several of them were staring at her window with big, broad smiles on their faces. Without a moment’s hesitation, she flew to the blinds and nearly ripped them off the walls in closing them, leaving her office dim.

She fluttered in place and crossed her forelegs. “I swear, when I get done with them, they won’t be able to fly for a month!”

She settled down into her chair, turned her desk lamp on, and slapped her hooves against her face. “Of all the stupid…” Her hooves hit her desk, and she glared at the candy-cane-colored dildo, its flared head still moving slightly. She shook her head. “How much money did they waste on this thing?”

Grabbing the card again, she noticed the words “Coltfriend Fantasies” in small, stylized script. She’d recognized it from her trips past the seediest stores at the mall: it was an infamous brand of do-it-yourself novelty dildo kits, almost always meant as a gag. It came with everything a stallion needed to make a cast and silicone mold of their dick, and it looks like they’d sprung for the holiday edition.

Spitfire’s heart stopped, and her eyes went wide. Slowly, she looked back up at the dildo, then turned her lamp to shine a light on it. “Wait… Really? So that means…” She stared at the silicone toy, and it dawned on her: this was one of her coworker’s cocks.

The air took on a chill.

...and then it began to grow hot.

“...Huh.” Spitfire looked down at the card again, desperately trying to figure out whose hoofwriting it was, but it was no use. Somepony had done a very good job of keeping themselves anonymous.

She stared at the silicone dick again, and started to think about each of her–

“NO!” She interrupted her own thoughts and wrenched her eyes closed. “No, no, no! Inappropriate!”

But as much as she tried to shut the thoughts out, they came back. Her memory flashed with images from the team showers, when the stallions would occasionally get excited when talking about their conquests or potential new partners. Had she snuck a peek or two? Of course; she wasn’t made of stone (as much as she tried to convince others she was). Which of her subordinates looked the most like…

“I-I shouldn’t. This is a violation of protocol.” She looked at the dildo again in the lamplight, and she continued to wonder, her jaw slack. It could have been any of them, really, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before. Spending every day with the most physically fit, confident, talented stallions in close, sweaty quarters? A mare’s instincts could only be suppressed so far, even if her professionalism demanded she never act on her desires.

But now…

She had the chance to finally ride a Wonderbolt dick, something she’d never gotten to do before, and nopony would know. They’d all assumed it was a gag gift, right? She reached out to touch it.

And she drew her hoof back, almost like it was a snake that would bite her.

But she reached out again. Her hoof brushed against the head, and she shuddered, breathless. It felt so real, or at least real enough to fool her. Even in her cold office, it felt warm somehow, and in the dim light, it almost looked like it jumped a little at her touch.

Spitfire was sweating. She cast her eyes left and right, then back to the dick.

She paused.

And she nodded, then spoke sternly to herself. “This will just continue being a distraction,” she rationalized. “Better to get it taken care of right away.”

Spitfire practically leapt out of her seat, then chided herself for being overly eager. In a few swift motions, she’d taken her jacket off and hung it perfectly in one of her closets. She grabbed a spare towel as well from one of the drawers, then swung around to the front of her desk.

She admired the dick again. “Whose…” she wondered aloud. Could it have been Soarin’? He seemed like the most likely, but this was brazen even for him, and she wasn’t sure his dick was even this thick. Maybe Wave Chill? Sightseer was married, so that ruled him out. Could it have been Fire Streak? She made a mental note to start examining their dicks more closely in the showers.

And she nearly puked at that thought. “Stay on course, Captain. This is a one-time thing.”

Her heart raced, and her wings felt stiff. She reached out and oriented it to point towards her face, and she admired the workmanship: it was half-flared, but fully erect, and it was thicker than any stallion she’d ever been with. The coloring was certainly distracting, but it was almost the perfect length, and the one large vein made it so aesthetically pleasing that she couldn’t help herself.

Steeling herself, she closed her eyes and licked it hard. It nearly toppled over, and she smacked her lips at the artificial taste. “Hm…” she grunted. Not as good as the real thing, but still had its charms.

Expectations set, she leaned forward again, and imagined a stallion in a Wonderbolt suit. Her imagination shifted rapidly between her teammates, and she popped the head into her mouth. “Mm…” Her head felt light, and she suckled on the silicone. Besides the taste, it felt almost real, and she felt a warm wave spread from her throat to her stomach to her pussy.

Her tail was raising, too, albeit involuntarily, and she had to spread her legs as she felt herself grow fuller. With her eyes still closed, she reached behind herself and started pawing at her opening. Her tail swished, and the rush of air brushed coolly against her wet hole. At her touch, her muscles relaxed. “Nnnngh…” she groaned around the artificial dick.

With a soft petting motion, she massaged her clit, and the blood began to pump more intensely through her whole body. Her wings stiffened and pushed up and out with arousal, and she fantasized as she mumbled different names into the cock.

“Fire Streak… Chill…” Each name sent a thrill up down her spine, landing heavily in her stomach. She knew it was wrong to think about her subordinates this way, but every time she moaned a name, the heat in her body grew more intense. Her mind spun with fantasies. Each of the Wonderbolt stallions lining up in front of her, ready to be pleasured.

She blushed and sneered at herself, then pulled off of the cock. “They want to be pleasured, huh?” She picked up the silicone cock, turned it around to look at it, and gave it a wicked smirk. “Too bad, buddy. You work for me.”

With a flick of her free forehoof, she spread the towel out on the floor, then set the dildo and the small bottle of lube down next to it. “Okay, here we go,” she said as she lay down on her back and closed her eyes. She smiled as she ran her hooves down her chest and across her belly. Narcissistic as it might have been, she moaned as she felt herself. It was the most finely-tuned pegasus body in Equestria, and every muscle had been worked to its maximum potential over years of practice.

But Spitfire wasn’t feeling patient, and she reached down to massage her pussy. It was already incredibly wet, and as she rubbed back and forth, her fluids made a slight slickt noise. “Mm…”

Her face was flushed. Her heart was pounding. Her head rolled to the side, and she saw the dildo and the lube. She didn’t want to wait any longer.

With a twist, the cap came off the lube, and the scent hit her nose. She stuck out her tongue. “Blech. Peppermint? Figures.” Still, she slathered it along the artificial cock, and she admired how it began to shimmer in the low light of the room.

She brought the cockhead to her opening and pressed the semi-flared head against it. “Yeah…” she groaned as the head pushed in. The peppermint lube had a refreshing tingle that made her soft walls buzz with feeling, even as her muscles contracted around the slightly cold cock. She gasped as she pushed it in a little further.

Her head rocked forward to watch it entering into her. The color was certainly a distraction, but she kept thinking about one of her male counterparts laying into her, and it made her eyes flutter. “Yeah, Thunderlane,” she whispered. “Show me what you got. Mm!” She pushed the dildo in further, feeling her vagina stretch around the thick toy. “You’re a big guy, aren’t you?” she panted.

“Ooooh,” she moaned as she pulled it all the way out with a pop. She mashed the head against her opening, and it slipped up and rolled across her clit. Spitfire shuddered and rocked it back and forth a few times. Each motion sent a soft shudder through her body – less intense than what she’d felt with it inside her, but more constant, building up to a much bigger feeling later. Her tail flicked back and forth in anticipation of what was to come.

The dildo was slick with lube and with her juices, and Spitfire looked back at it as she kept rubbing. She imagined Lightning Streak or Silver Zoom above her, teasing her and trying to get her to beg for more.

And Spitfire smirked.

She sat up quickly, picturing her subordinates’ faces as she turned the tables and threw them down on their back. She set the silicone cock on its base on the towel in front of her. It was firm enough to stay fully erect, even it it was soft enough to squish just a little inside her. “Your technique is pathetic!” she shouted at her imagined teammate. “Let me show you how to really ride.”

Spitfire stood up with shaky legs, then lowered her opening towards the engorged dick. “Now,” she growled. “You’re gonna lie there and give it to me until I’ve had my fill. Do I make myself clear?”

She could almost hear the “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” come from her “Wonderbolt.”

“Good! Wonderbolt, salute!” She closed her eyes and imagined the dick pulsing and throbbing to be even harder than before, and she plunged down onto it.

She saw stars. Her head swam, and her skin prickled as she took the cock all the way down to the medial ring. “Hell yes!” she huffed. Her forelegs shook as she struggled to maintain her awkward position atop it, but her legs flexed, and she raised her ass a few inches. The dick slid out nearly all the way, but just before the head could escape, she slammed back down onto it. The medial ring forced its way in, and Spitfire drew a sharp breath. “Oh, yeah.”

She grunted and moaned as she moved again, up and down. Her legs burned with effort as she surpassed fifty, then a hundred squats on her new toy. Each movement made another lewd schlect, schlect, schlect noise, forming a rhythm that helped her push past the exertion. With each thrust, she got the dildo just a little deeper, and her vagina felt more and more full.

Spitfire tensed suddenly as the dildo bent slightly inside her, pressing against her g-spot. “Ah!” she shouted, nearly collapsing. She paused for just a second and realized how hard she was breathing. “G-good job, recruit,” she growled. “Keep it up.”

A little slower now, she repeated the same motion, feeling more and more pressure against her g-spot. The smell of sweat, sex, and peppermint filled the air, and she squatted more and more onto the cock, until she finally bottomed out. “Yeah…” she sighed as she felt the soft, silicone balls press against her skin.

Her whole body buzzed, and the warmth in her vagina spread everywhere. Her clit throbbed, and as she sat there, with the dildo shoved all the way into her wet, full pussy, she reached down to touch herself.

The cock was the perfect size, giving her a sense of hefty fullness that pressed against her inner walls without being painful. She only intended to lightly touch her clit with her hoof, but as soon as she touched it, she gasped, “A-ah!” Her brain was awash in endorphins, and she felt a small amount of drool roll down her chin.

A fire burned deeply inside her, and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She raised herself up slightly, just a few inches, and furiously rubbed her clit. She wobbled and nearly collapsed from the electricity running through her whole body, and she had to stabilize herself with her free hoof.

She rubbed harder. Faster. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her muscles ached. Her head flailed wildly from the sensations running through her. She panted. She convulsed. She kept imagining different teammates pinned under her. Her fetlock grew tired and strained, but the feeling kept growing inside her until…

“A-ah… Ah… Aaah YES!”

Spitfire’s orgasm tore through her body. Every muscle tensed, and her vagina clenched around the giant, squishy cock inside her. She could feel the blood pumping in her temples, and her clit and pussy radiated a heat that felt like it would burn her from the inside out, but if felt so, so good.

The whole time, a cycle of Wonderbolt stallions spun through her head. Wave Chill, Lightning Streak, Soarin’... Every new face was twisted in orgasm, and she relished how she’d ridden them to their very limit.

After a long, hot moment, her high crested, and she held herself in place as she slowly regained her senses.

She let out a shuddering breath. “Oh, yeah…” Finally relaxing her legs, she sat back down on her ass with the dildo still inside her. The cock angled against her vagina, giving her one last pulse of pleasure as it bent and slipped out of her. “Heh,” she chuckled, breathless. “Good colt. Mmm…”

She looked at her wrecked body. Her legs felt slightly cramped, and her pussy was glistening wet. In fact, the towel she’d put down was soaked through with lube and her own fluids. Her office reeked, and it made her glad she’d waited until after inspections to come back here.

“Nice work, stallion squad,” she said with a slight laugh. With a corner of the towel that was still dry, she wiped off her hooves and dried the dildo. Her nerves were shot, and it took several tries to lift her legs enough to clean it all off. “I think I needed that.”

“I’m, uh… glad you liked it,” Soarin’ said from outside her door.

Spitfire froze in place. Her stomach churned, and her eyes opened wide. Outside, through the frosted glass of her office door, was the silhouette of a stallion with an absurdly wild mane. Spitfire gupled. She tried to speak, but for once, she couldn’t.

Soarin’ paused, then kept talking. “I… didn’t really think you’d use it. But I’m glad you did! ‘Cuz… yeah.” He looked left and right down the hall. “You okay? Want me to come in?”

“No!” she shouted, leaping to her hooves.

“Gah! Right! No. Duh. Obviously.” He slapped himself on the face with a hoof.

Spitfire took a small step towards the door. “How long have you been there?”

Soarin’ shrugged. “Eh, long enough.” He stood up straighter, and his tone brightened. “But hey, don’t worry, Spitz. I totally get needing to let off some steam.” He spoke calmly, and Spitfire felt her shoulders relax. “If anypony deserves a little relief, it’s you. You work harder than any of us, and you’re the best captain we could ask for, and I’m really, really glad we could all help.”

Spitfire’s jaw still felt tight, and she stepped up to the glass. “You’re… not going to tell anypony, are you?”

“Huh? Oh, nah.” He waved dismissively with his hoof. “I’m not a narc. Hey! How ‘bout this: I’ll go clean out the latrines, and I’ll tell everypony it was my punishment for inappropriate conduct. I’m pretty good at making up stories about getting yelled at.” He shrugged. “Heh. Lots of practice with the real thing. Sound good?”

Spitfire finally released a breath. “Thanks, Soarin’. That… It means a lot.”

“No problem, Spitz. I’ll get right on it. Happy Hearth’s Warming.” She couldn’t tell how, but somehow she knew that Soarin’ was giving her a warm smile from beyond the door.

And Spitfire smiled back. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Soarin’.” Soarin’ turned to leave, and a thought sparked in Spitfire’s mind. “Oh, wait! Quick question.” The blurry silhouette turned to look over its shoulder. “Who was the, uh, model?”

Soarin’ turned his head upwards. He thought for a moment, then chuckled. “Ya’ know, I think it’s more fun to let you believe whatever you want.” He hopped into the air with a quick flap of his wings, gave a salute, and drifted quickly away.

Spitfire stood in the silence, left with a warm glow in her heart. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t just the orgasm. With a contented sigh, she turned around, walked to the dildo and the lube, and stuck them back in the box. “Passable job, team,” she said gently.

But then, she paused. She thought about all her teammates getting together, talking about her, and deciding to get her a gift. Even if it was way too personal, and even if they’d been trying to mess with her, they’d thought of her, and somepony had even risked their career to make her happy. Feeling warm all over again, she looked back at the silly, candy-cane-colored cock and laughed. “Not just passable, ‘Bolts.” She smiled as she closed the box. “Truly great.”