For a long time he drives himself into her, relentless, sweat pouring down his back as viscous fluid leaks out from around his cock. Finally he stops, his breath ragged, arms sore, hands smarting from hard slaps against her flank. “Sorry,” Doug apologizes, tired, almost at a whimper.

Trixie moans, glancing back with a regretful, almost annoyed look, her hips shaking, tempting him to keep going. When he merely rests against her, pressed as far in as he can go, she closes her eyes and wipes a hoof across her face.

“T-Trixie...” comes the wearied absolution between heavy pants and gulping breaths. “The Pained and Hurting Trixie understands why you did that to her.”

The conciliatory tone surprises Doug; it takes him a moment to realize she’s back in character.

“Oh?” he asks coldly as he pulls out, struggling to tamp down his affection. Her tail twitches as it falls back in place. He slumps back, more exhausted than he’d like to admit.

The mare nods, shuddering in pleasure despite the soreness. “You wanted to teach the Helpless and Vulnerable Trixie a lesson, but she was not the one to place that trap there. Nightmare Moon must seek to drive us apart!”

“Lies and deceit,” Doug counters, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “You dare slander my Mistress, that she would do such a thing?”

“You think they would allow the Cunning and Resourceful Trixie a weapon?” A loud snort blows the hair of her forelegs to the side. She motions at the cup. “Besides, the evidence is gone already. If that is not an indication of Nightmare Moon’s hoof at play, what is?”

Doug almost laughs at how Trixie turned his ‘trick’ against him. Count on her to see how he feigned dropping the blade in the cup every time.

“And,” Trixie continues, tentatively, vulnerable, not wanting her main argument to come across as too forceful, “the Understanding and Insightful Trixie knows this isn’t you. She remembers a gentle, loving person, who would only raise his hand to defend his herd.”

Doug’s mouth sets to a hard, grim line. “That me is long gone.”

“No.” He can’t hold her steady gaze. “The Wise and Discerning Trixie can easily see through those barriers. She knows you still value Friendship, and Love, and Harmony!”

“But it’s too late,” Doug laments. “After what I’ve done to you? What I’ve done to your friends? To the rest of Equestria?”

Trixie reaches a hoof up, lightly resting it on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she consoles with a gentle down and nuzzle. A tender kiss to his cheek surprises him. “The Forgiving and Willing-to-Look-Past-This Trixie, well, forgives you.”

He buries his face into her shoulder, clasping his arms around her; tears staining the azure coat. “Truly?”

Trixie props his face up so he can see her wink. “And she knows they will, too.”

Doug smiles, then glances down at the restraints lying loose on the table. “Weren’t you tied down?”

“The Devious and Elusive Trixie defies any attempt to contain her Greatness with simple bonds!”

Doug shares her laughter, though rubs at the scars on his left hand. “Maybe you should have gone against her the first time.”

“The Brave and Gallant Trixie will gladly stand against any foe!” Trixie strikes a valiant pose, standing straight and puffing her chest out.

The door slams open; a rolling black sweeps into the room, smothering the light from the windows. Twin cyan eyes peer from the darkness, mirthful, as a mad cackle echoes from every corner. Hoofsteps ring out, slow and ominous, each waiting for the previous to fade before resounding again; they get the dreadful feeling she could stalk silently should she so desire, yet would rather spread terror with every step.

Trixie drops to the table, ears flattening against her skull; her hind leg scooches back from the empty barrel and tucks her wand underneath her belly. She whimpers, abject and pitiful; her brash and boastful voice dies in her throat, unable to scream or cry out in fear.

Doug kneels, his eyes screwing shut, any thought of standing with Trixie disappearing as surely as the light in the room. “Mistress,” he forces out, barely keeping the tremble away. “I-”

“Silence,” Nightmare Moon commands, her echoing order immediately obeyed by both. They dare not even breathe, such is the force of her command. The ominous hoofsteps draw nearer and nearer, Doug shuddering as they come to a stop right next to him. “You were ordered to learn what you could from her.”

Doug quakes; he knows she wants, demands, an answer, yet she hasn’t asked a question yet. And so the moment draws long, uncomfortable; he can feel those cyan eyes boring into him, searching his soul, rooting out and inspecting his potential for betrayal.

“Speak,” comes the hard voice, contemptuous that he dared pass her test.

“She knew your tricks,” Doug says subserviently, still not allowing himself to look at her in all her terrible glory. His terror, his fear of her is palpable, shaking his hands as they clasp against his sides.

“Oh?”

First one step, then two, echo between Doug and Trixie. There comes a long sniff, presumably of the unicorn’s nethers.

“And you thought you could tempt her to our side?” Nightmare Moon laughs, scornful and cold, with a fury that begs to be released veiled just under the surface. “You are not yours to give away as you choose.” She stalks, one step, two, to his side. “Perhaps you need another lesson.”

“Please,” Doug begs. The cobalt dagger, her favored weapon, dances in his mind’s eye; through his eyelids he can see the same cobalt light, shifting back and forth, flaying by mere sight.

It’s just a game, she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t-

“Not so fast!”

Doug isn’t the only one surprised at Trixie’s gallant cry. The unicorn stands boldly, a black and red necklace dangling from a long thread (and not, to his relief, clasped around her neck). She smirks, as haughty and cocksure as he has ever known. A red glint in her eyes brightens the room, contesting the shadows cast by Nightmare Moon’s oppressive blue.

“What is this treachery?” demands Nightmare Moon as she staggers back.

“This is the Alicorn Amulet!” Trixie explains, gloating. She drops her empty wand onto the barrel, the amulet hidden inside instead of flowers. “With it, I, the Great and Powerful Trixie! am able to match even an alicorn’s magical might! And so, she binds your power, thus ending your reign of terror and eternal night!”

“Nooo!” Nightmare Moon yowls, collapsing to the floor in a pitiful heap. The rest of her repressive dark lifts, bathing the room in the oranges of the setting sun. Still she struggles against unseen bonds, gnashing her teeth and glaring daggers - fortunately, figurative - as her own obsidian-edged blade falls point-first into the floor, sticking there.

“Now,” Trixie relishes as she hops off the table, sticking her head up with a pompous air. “It is time for my revenge!” Nightmare Moon’s eyes fill with fear as Trixie casually picks up the dagger and deftly twirls it around her hoof with expert precision. “Gutting’s too good for her, don’t you think?”

“Trixie,” Doug cautions, keeping a nervous distance from the whirling blade.

“Oh?” Trixie glances from Nightmare Moon to Doug. She grins, hopeful, and offers him the hilt. “You know what should be done with this wretched creature?” The alicorn snorts unhappily, earning herself a swift kick in the flank.

The scene is eerily similar to the Summer Sun Celebration nine months ago when he met Luna. His hand shakes as memories dredge themselves up, all the thoughts of revenge, that burning desire for vengeance against the one who inflicted such visceral torture on him and his foals. They still bear the scars, if partially concealed by their coats, as does he.

“I do.” Doug takes the dagger, gingerly, afraid of nicking even a sliver of Trixie’s hoof with the obscenely sharp edge. “And it’s this.”

“My faithful servant…” Nightmare Moon’s breath catches, wide eyes watching him slowly rise, methodical, her high executioner relishing the time until he gets to his target.

He can see the debate raging inside her head. Of whether or not she should use her magic, guarantee her safety from whatever crazed plan his addled mind conjures. What he might do to her - disfigure her mane, ruin her coat, or simply lop her horn off as Selene had done in Twilight’s alternate reality.

Perhaps she notices something, because she lets out that breath, and with it her worry, bowing her head in quiet acceptance. Because she trusts him, and he wouldn’t do that to her, not to his love.

He kneels down, embracing her as he had so long ago.

“I forgive you.”

“Ugghhhhh,” comes Trixie’s drawn out and exasperated sigh and claps a hoof to her forehead. It bothers Doug that Luna shares Trixie’s discontent, if more resigned, or perhaps it’s just that his hug lessens her displeasure.

“Something wrong?” Doug asks, adding a pinch of petulance, not wanting to leave his mare’s cool embrace.

“Aside from you ruining the mood?” Trixie snaps, collapsing next to Doug and Luna, all her legs splaying out.

Luna nuzzles Doug, though he can tell her heart isn’t into it. “T’was a bit, mm, waste-laying in a manner only our attempted overthrow of the natural order can top.”

Doug rolls his eyes. “I just wanted-”

“-’I just wanted’,” Trixie taunts in a sing-song voice. She huffs. “Look, we get it. You forgive us for whatever heinous acts we did in the past. Even if we don’t deserve that forgiveness.”

“I object to that,” Doug interjects, much to Trixie’s consternation. “Or, rather, that just because we don’t deserve forgiveness doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be given. It’s not like I don’t feel angry or want revenge for what happened, but… look, acting on those feelings only leads to more misery. Why go through with that when the alternative is so much better?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trixie continues, matching his eye roll. “Like I said, we get it. But this is fantasy. Role-play. Make-believe! Like, if you could do anything you wanted to, consequence free, what would you do?”

Doug stares at Trixie, long and hard enough for her to shift uncomfortably. “You want me to have sadistic thoughts of torturing my mares?”

“...Well… Yeah.” Trixie shakes her flanks, still smarting from their earlier session. He can’t deny they both had fun inflicting that on her. “It’s not torture if we enjoy it, right? What’s the worst thing you want to do to us?”

Doug turns to Luna. “And you’re okay with this?”

“We art perfectly capable of voicing our objections, should thy actions require such.” Luna glances at the dagger still in his hand, the proximal cause of so much of their friction; it poofs away with a thought. “Shall we resume our debaucherous ways?”

Well, if that’s what they want...

“Remember when you pledged yourself to me?” Doug asks, getting back into things with a swarthy smirk.

Luna snorts. “We doubt we art capable of forgetting, given how she grows with every passing night.”

She goes to push him to his back and slip her muzzle between his legs, only to be rebuffed. She raises an eyebrow, allowing herself to be the one laying prone. She watches with growing anticipation; will he mount her chest, knees clenched at her sides, and force his hard length into her greedily awaiting muzzle? It would certainly be a commanding position, him taking the lead, and a departure from their normal roles - though he certainly prefers the belly-to-belly ‘human style’.

But when he motions for Trixie? The unicorn reluctantly follows his commands until she stands atop the prone alicorn, pungent nethers directly above Luna’s wrinkling muzzle.

“I’m going to fill your belly,” Doug foretells, calm yet gloating. His hands trace tender lines from the outer edge of her flanks to the inside, drawing a long, shuddering gasp. “But not from me, directly.”

He cannot mean…

Doug rests one hand on Trixie’s withers, gradually pushing the unicorn down until her damp nether lips collide with the wetness of Luna’s muzzle.

“Mmph!” Luna exclaims, muffled by a strong desire to not open her mouth.

“Hey!” Trixie indignantly replies, mostly at Doug. “Pleasuring the Tantalizing and Scrumptious Trixie is not some punishment to assign!”

“Mmurphering,” Luna contends, clearly unhappy. Or doing an excellent job acting as such.

“You’re saying you don’t want her doing this?” Doug asks, ignoring Luna.

“That’s not the issue!” Trixie scowls, now aiming at Luna. “She should be honored at the mere opportunity!”

“Mm.” Doug runs a single finger along one edge of Luna’s marehood, her legs twitching at the light contact. She struggles to maintain her look of utter disdain. “Maybe we’ll have to keep this up until she gives in.”

“It is what Nightmare Moon would have wanted,” Trixie agrees, grinning down. “Now lap, dog!”

Luna growls, deep in her throat. Still, her tongue comes out, tracing a light line across the azure lips. She can taste Doug’s essence, mixed in with a copious contribution of Trixie’s. She hates to admit that the unicorn lives up to her latest title, and takes a tentative second lick.

“Better,” Doug quips, one finger slipping down Luna’s tunnel. “But what do you think about this?”

Luna’s head jolts upward, burying her muzzle inside Trixie as Doug lets loose the longest raspberry she’s ever felt on her exposed belly.

Next Chapter: Ch. 92 - Emperor's Cunning, Part One Estimated time remaining: 17 Hours, 24 Minutes