> Serving the Sun
>  by gasmaskangel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> First day on the job
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crockery rattling on your trolley matches the hammering of your heart and the shaking of your hands as you guide the ancient, heavy thing down the corridor towards an ornately appointed door outside of which a pair of stallions in the gleaming gold armor of the royal guard stand at attention.

Though neither one actually looks at you as you approach you can feel their attention on you like a physical force. You try not to stare at gilded but still perfectly deadly spears they both carry.

You pause outside the door and give them both a nervous smile that proves futile beneath their unwavering discipline.

“I’m the new valet,” you say a touch hopelessly.

One finally turns to look at you and cocks an eyebrow.

“Er, can I go in?” you ask. He wordlessly pushes one of the great heavy doors open and you bustle in a bit more quickly than necessary.

Your heart pounds as you look around the vast bright space. This is it, the moment you’ve dreamed of ever since you were a child. You stand in the personal chambers of Princess Celestia herself.

A sense of exultation fills you. This room, a small foyer elegantly appointed alone is closer to her than you’d ever dreamed and in a few minutes you’d be even closer, waiting on the Princess, on the Goddess hand and hoof.

The magnitude of your luck astounds you. A job in the palace alone is the sort of thing most ponies would kill for, but a job directly serving one of the Princesses? That is the sort of thing only foals dream of.

But now here you are, pushing the trolley through richly appointed rooms, here what seems to be a small gallery of paintings, there a library and finally the bedchamber of Celestia herself.

This room is less luxurious than the others and you marvel at that for a moment. It is all wide space and open windows looking down on Canterlot, its light’s flickering like the stars above as the slumbering populace waits for Celestia to bring the rosy fingered dawn.

Directly before this view lies the royal bed, vast and soft and covered only partially by sheets at one end, her.

Even in sleep her mane still waves softly as if stirred by a breeze, the alabaster of her coat almost seems to glow in the dim light.

You feel like a voyeur, a sensation that only intensifies as you see the nearly sheer, almost completely transparent fabric of her nightie, though only that at her shoulders, her arm and her graceful leg which lays uncovered.

For a moment you nearly retreat, not daring to intrude on her slumber. What right does a mortal have to awaken deity?

You fumble at your waist coat till you find the brass pocket watch that is part of your uniform. A few minutes before five.

Celestia has given standing orders that she is to be awoken at five on the dot. You have time then, time to appreciate the sight of your slumbering goddess.

The sheets over her cling tight, allowing you to see the womanly curve of hip and thigh, the swell of her breasts and the weight she wears proudly. Everything about her looks so very soft and inviting and you almost reach out to touch her, to feel the warm, pliable flesh beneath your fingers, the velvet softness of her coat or perhaps the silkiness of her garment.

The hands on your watch creep inexorably forward, each tick slicing off a little chunk of time, drawing you ever closer to the moment when you would either wake your goddess, or flee from the room.

A distraction. You need a distraction, something to quiet the hammering of your heart. You check over the tea trolley once more.

The instructions on how this was to be prepared had been quite specific. A pot of fine, sweet tea. A fine china cup and saucer, inlaid with intricate gilt scroll work. A jar of honey.

There were two items that seemed inexplicable to you. The first was a large mixing bowel. The second an equally large and equally empty milk jug.

Those had both raised questions from you, but you had been rebuffed each time. Only Ms. Clamp, the woman who by all accounts more or less ruled life below stairs in Canterlot castle had simply told you not to worry about it, that in her words “it was all just one of the Princess’s funny little ways.”

The words suddenly seemed ominous now, and it struck you how little you actually know about Celestia.

Oh everypony knows her as kind and benevolent, just as everypony young or old knows she raises the sun.

You’ve known all your life that she is beauty personified, but here and now you know nothing else. Will she like you? Will you annoy her or embarrass her?

Again you consider fleeing, running from the room, from the castle and from Canterlot till you find someplace nice and insignificant to hide.

There is a single, soft chime from you watch and you make your decision.

You clear your throat and say, “Princess? Its time to wake up.”

The calm clarity of your own voice shocks you. It has no effect on the sleeping goddess though, save for one of her ears twitching slightly.

Again you call out to her that it is time to awaken, this time louder, though your voice shakes.

Five on the dot you were told and as you dither you note that the clock has slipped to one past. There is nothing for it.

You reach a shaking hand for her shoulder, expecting at any moment to be incinerated for your heresy. This fails to happen, not even when your trembling hand is millimeters from her bare shoulder.

It fails to happen when you touch it and let out a gasp at the sheer softness of her coat, at the gentle warmth of her flesh and it fails to happen when you gently squeeze while saying, “Princess Celestia?”

You feel her tense for a moment then relax. Her rose eyes flutter open and in that very second a feeling of gentle, prickling tension fills the air, the feeling of magic at work.

The sun breaks over the horizon, set in motion with Celestia’s waking. It rises slow and sluggish as she does, rosy, golden light spilling into the room and over your goddess. You step back, shielding your eyes as light falls over the land, over her and over you.

It takes only a few seconds for your vision to come back to you and you find yourself looking into those gentle, sleepy, rose colored eyes. She has a warm, gentle smile on her face and your heart soars to see it.

Those eyes close as she stretches and that is when you get your first real glimpse of Celestia as a person instead of remote, loving ruler.

The nighty, to your chagrin, is exactly as immodest as your first glimpse of it seemed to indicate. You see her every generous curve, her breasts full promising, her belly plump and lovely, her hips wide and womanly.

Her cock proud and turgid.

That is what arrests your attention. Rising between Celestia’s powerful thighs is a stallionhood of truly godly proportion. It is plump as she is, but so long to easily reach her belly button. After a moment’s observation you can see that the member is not yet even fully erect, it rests against the fabric of her nighty, pulling obscenely at the garment.

The fabric is stained slightly where the tip meets it, and above that you see it also stained where her nipples touch.

Your knees buckle and the last thought to go through your mind before the world falls into soft blackness is that of all the things you’d dreamed of when you finally met Celestia, this was not one of them.

***

You awaked in softness, utter, blissful softness. You feel sheets beneath your hand, cool and silky and your head rests on the most perfectly fluffy pillow you’ve ever encountered.

There is something cool and damn on your brow and you reach for it. A wet cloth.

For a moment you think that everything was a dream, some feverish imagining brought on by illness, or perhaps a bit of bad gruel.

Then you realize that you have never been in a bed this wonderful, and your eyes snap open to gaze at the ceiling of Princess Celestia’s bed chamber.

You sit up in a panic and gentle but firm hands stop your ascent.

Celestia very gently pushes you back down to the bed.

“I am terribly sorry about this,” she says, “I do wish that my chief of staff would warn the ponies he assigns to me. Honestly I think he enjoys it when this sort of thing.”

“P-princess!” you stammer and again try to rise and are again stopped and gently lowered to the bed.

“Don’t worry,” she says, placing a single delicate finger against your lips, “rest for a bit, and I’ll get you a glass of something to steady your nerves.”

Her tone is soft but brooks no argument and so you lay down and watch as she gets up and steps over to a drinks cabinet. The nightie is gone, though stockings and gloves remain. You cannot help but stare at her marvelously built posterior, so round and plump and are immediately seized by guilt for staring so perversely at your goddess.

A tiny, treacherous voice in your head whispers back to you that said goddess does not seem to mind you staring, if she did then she would have covered up.

There is more of shock in store though when she returns, her outlying parts jiggling in a most distracting and pleasing manner with each step and her cock now fully erect. You note moisture beading at the tip and as you gaze at the massive stallionhood that your own is growing in response.

A sudden terror that she might see this overtakes you and you try to cover yourself before the rising erection is plainly visible against your pants.

If Celestia notices she does not comment, instead placing a tumbler and a bottle of some dark liquid on the bedside table before again sitting down beside you.

She pours a measure of the dark liquid into the tumbler, then after a moment’s thought instead offers you the bottle.

Purely for something to distract you, you take a long pull from it, and choke on the strong alcohol as it burns your sinuses.

You cough and sputter as Celestia slaps you on the back

“Feel better?” she asks, and its all you can do to nod.

“Good,” she says, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “now can you tell me the time?”

The words take a moment to reach your brain, but when they do you begin to fumble for your pocket watch, produce it, glance at it and give the time so fast that Celestia has to have you repeat it.

“Eleven past five, Princess,” you say.

“Excellent, and at what time am I joining my sister for breakfast?” as she asks this she puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close to her, a simple, comforting gesture.

“Eight o'clock, Princess,” you say, and without any conscious decision on your part you lean back into her. Celestia is so very warm, and so very soft.

“We’ll have a few hours to get to know each other then,” she says.

“Princess?” her words fill you with both hope and dread.

She strokes a hand over your mane soothingly before rising, bidding you to do so as well.

“I prefer to be friends with those who spend as much time with me as you will,” the Princess says as she guides you around the bed and back to the abandoned tea trolley, “unfortunately this may mean destroying your present image of me. One can have a friend or an idol, not both.”

The princess looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before looking meaningfully down at the tea trolley. You scramble to pour her a cup, then stop yourself and restart the process, using calm, deliberate movements.

You’ll be damned before you allow being flustered prevent you from executing the most basic of butlerly tasks.

Celestia watches approvingly as you pour the fine china cup half full, pause and wait for her order.

“Plenty of milk and honey,” she says with a note of satisfaction in her voice and you immediately move to obey.

Two spoonfuls of honey go in, stir, and then you reach for the milk jug before realizing first that you brought it up empty, and when you begin to mention this you notice that now it has been filled.

Celestia notices your hesitation, and with a smile says “I filled it while you were out, please note that in the future that will be your job.”

You cannot keep the gobsmacked expression off of your face, and nor can you prevent your gaze from being locked onto the Princess’s full, luscious breasts.

She bends forward, pushing them forward and you cannot help but notice that her stallionhood fits neatly between them.

“The thought of me doing so shocks you?” she asks.

You begin to choke on your words, desperate to both sort out the facts and to avoid offending her. Before you can speak some part of your brain wrests control from you and begins giving orders.

Simply put, you are too shaken to be anything but honest and you nod your head.

Celestia sighs sadly, “Often the case.”

She stands up and pours the milk herself, stirring the tea as she does so.

She takes a sip of it and for a moment a look of pure bliss crosses her face.

“It really is my fault,” the Princess says after a moment, “I became what the people needed back when me and my sister defeated Discord and as result It became unthinkable for us to be anything less that gods.”

Celestia takes another sip of the tea and makes a pleased, almost animal sound.

“Ponies have very peculiar ideas about divinity. You are shocked by my appearance because to you I must be pure as the driven snow in order to be the Princess of the sun, and I am happy to allow the majority of ponies to think of me that way as quite frankly they need that certainty,” she drains the rest of the cup and places it back on the trolley. 

By reflex you raise the pot to offer her another, but she dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“Just milk, please,” Celestia says and you dutifully pour. It gives you an excuse not to look her in the face.

“Despite all of this I cannot deny the simple fact that I do have needs,” she says as you pass her the cup, “I would like to know that I can be something other than a Princess with you. I dislike the idea of having to keep wearing that mask in private, and if you choose to stay in this job then you will spend a great deal of time with me in private.”

You look up at her and in her face you see something that destroys you. Vulnerability.

As she’d spoken Celestia’s voice had remained steady and calm, but as you look into her eyes you see a hint of fragility and know that the worst thing you could ever do is reject her now.

By accepting her you lose an idol. By rejecting her you hurt her, and lose her anyways.

“I’ll…” your throat feels dry, you swallow hard and lick your lips, “I’ll try, Princess.”

There is a subtle change in her posture, as if some unseen tension had just been released.

“That is all I ask,” she says, “and in private I prefer that you refer to me as Celestia.”

You nod your head and for a moment there is a comfortable, almost companionable silence in the room.

“Now,” she says, “on the subject the erection you tried to hide from me.”

Almost immediately your hand flies to your crotch, attempting to hide yourself.

You do it just a bit too fast though, and you have the appropriate reaction of someone who has just slapped themself in the genitals, which is to double over with a wince of pain.

To your immense relief, Celestia does not react the way ponies in a music hall would. There is no giggling, not even a trace of a smile. Of course if you were thousands of years old your sense of humor would probably have evolved past the point where males injuring their genitals is funny as well.

She looks concerned and helps you back to your hooves and to the bed.

“I really hope that our working relationship is going to consist of more that you doing pratfalls every time I surprise you,” she pats you on the shoulder and seats herself beside, and quite close to you, “it was amusing for the first few hundred years but after a while it loses its impact. Still, at least you didn’t dump a pot of hot tea down your trousers.”

“Did that happen before?” you ask weakly, and this time Celestia does chuckle.

“More than once, though never twice with the same pony,” she says. Her ethereal mane brushes against you. It is like a warm breeze and soft silk brushing across your skin at the same time.

“This is a distraction,” she says soon after, “we were discussing your erection.”

You blush but at this point have enough sense not to try to cover yourself. Admittedly you’re not in much of a state for anything interesting to be happening down there at the moment but as in so many things, its the thought that counts.

A soft hand brushes against your cheek and again you are struck by her sheer warmth. It is more than that of a normal pony, though it does not speak of illness but of soft summer days.

Whatever she protests to the contrary, your Princess will always be your goddess. But perhaps you can worship her in other ways.

“I am willing to believe that you were simply trying to be decent, it was quite gentlemanly of you,” she whispers in your ear, “but what I found more flattering is that you desired me in that moment.”

Her hand comes to rest lightly in your lap, where your member is stirring even as the last stings of pain leave you.

You find yourself trembling slightly, sweat beading on your brow. How could you possibly measure up to the standards of a goddess?

“Tell me,” she coos, her lips closer to your skin than ever, “what is it about me that you found so desirable.”

Her hand is at the clasp of your trousers. It comes undone with practiced ease.

“Was it my face?” she kisses your cheek as her fingers continue the work of slowly freeing you, “many have been drawn to that. Artists especially.”

You feel her chest against your arm, the heat and weight of those magnificent breasts pressing against you and awakening a slow, desperate hunger in you.

“Perhaps it was my breasts,” she says as her fingers slide into your trousers to brush against the taut flesh of your stallionhood, “mmmmm many have been enamored of those, I assure you. I’m quite fond of them myself, I do so relish the feel of a pony milking them or perhaps fastening their lips around a teat to suckle as I explore their nethers. Sometimes I don’t even have to touch them for them to cum.”

Celestia pulls your member free, and you find yourself staring down at it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this hard before.

“It might have been my girth,” she chuckles at that, “most modern mares are far too skinny, don’t you agree?”

You half expected her to begin stroking you off, but instead she is content to play her fingers over your length, tracing them in slow circles around the flared head and dabbing at the tip where pre cum has begun to bead.

“But I think that I know what it is that excited you to arousal, though I have no doubt that all of the other factors would have come into play once you’d gotten used to the idea of me naked,” she brings a finger to your lips. You can see a slight sheen there from your pre and against all previous experience masturbating you find your mouth watering at the prospect of tasting it.

A low whine escapes you. Celestia hisses in your ear, “say it.”

“Y-your…” you swallow hard, “your stallionhood.”

She brings the finger to your lips and you suck it in, the fluid salty and chemical in nature, but not unpleasent.

“Would you care to service me?” she asks.

You nod weakly, but even as you do you cannot stop the shaking words from falling from your lips, “I have no real idea how to do that, Princ- er, Celestia.”

“Not to worry,” she says as she stands up, “I am an able teacher.”

You look directly at her groin, her cock so big and proud, her testes heavy with unspilled seed and you think back to the fantasies that have seen you through so many lonely nights ever since you matured enough to have such fantasies.

You never imaged that they would be fulfilled like this.

You reach out for her stallionhood with trembling hands, thinking of nothing other than how she will feel in your hands, and taste in your mouth when she abruptly steps away from you.

She returns before you can protest however, and carefully sets the bowl you had brought along with everything else on the floor.

You look from it to her and back again.

“To catch the excess,” she explains, “and I should warn you that there will be rather a lot. Alicorns are quite a bit more… productive than normal ponies.”

“Er, Celestia,” you say, momentarily clear enough in thought to speak, “I, well I want to do this but I really don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Not to worry,” she says with a smile, “fellatio is fairly simple to get the hang of.”

You take one final breath to steady your hammering heart and reach out once more for her throbbing stallionhood.

***BREAK***

As you wrap your shaking hands around her beautiful cock, you gaze up at her face searching for approval. To your dismay, Celestia winces slightly.

“Not so hard,” she murmurs, “do it as if you were stroking yourself off.”

You consciously relax your grip until it is more a light touch, which has the happy side effect of allowing you to appreciate more fully the heat of her flesh and silky smoothness of her skin.

Tentatively you lean forward, tongue extended and eyes on the flared glans of her stallionhood.

When your tongue touches the oh so sensitive flesh, when you feel her whole length jerk in your hands, when you taste the first drop of her pre cum all hesitation vanishes from you. You want her, want her in every way and in this moment you especially want her member inside of you.

You lunge forward, licking with more gusto and wrapping your lips around her cockhead which elicits a delighted gasp from the Princess.

“Eagerness,” she says in a low, throaty voice, “Mmmmmm… very good.”

She places a hand on your head and strokes your mane,  subtly urging you forward down her shaft.

You reist for a moment, wanting to thoroughly explore every inch on her head first, but you slowly take more of her into your mouth. Your tongue explores the sensitive flesh just behind the flare of her glans and she lets out a soft, lovely groan as you do so.

Her urging becomes more intense and you allow yourself to go down still further.

You breath through your nose, and as such you smell her in all her glory, a mix of feminine sweetness, sour sweat and a sort of masculine musk all of which drive you down deeper and deeper into lust.

“Watch the teeth,” she hisses, “there is a time and place for them to be used, but you aren’t ready for that lesson yet.”

Before too long enough of her fills your mouth that she presses uncomfortably against the back of your throat, and in testament to the sheer, glorious size of Celestia’s member that you have yet to even reach her medial ring. She realizes this as well and ceases urging forward, instead simply stroking your mane. You note that she is breathing noticeably harder than before and that this does interesting things to her chest. You don’t believe you’ve ever seen a bosom that could be described as heaving before, but Celestia’s certainly meets the requirements.

For a moment it is enough to simply revel in the feeling of her filling your mouth as much as she is. There is a certain contentment to be had in that.

You think back to what you’d seen mares doing in the assorted pornographic magazines currently locked in a box under the floorboards under your bed. It is not enough to merely take a cock into your mouth, you need to stimulate it.

And so you slide back over her length, pressing your tongue against the thick vein of her urethra till you reach the glans and can probe the entrance with your tongue in quick, delicate dabs.

The taste of your own pre hand not been unpleasent, and now that you think about it even a bit intriging, but the taste of Celestia’s is simply divine. There is a subtle sweetness to it, a counterpoint to the taste of salt.

“Are you certain you’ve never done this before?” Celestia pants. You give her a rueful smile and start back down her length, a bit faster this time.

You bob your head back and forth, each time managing to swallow a bit more of her length, though it comes dangerously close to making you gag simply from the sheer size intruding into you. You recall hearing somewhere that it is possible to actually lose one’s gag reflex, and you make a mental note to look into that when you have some free time.

It seems like the sort of quality that would be useful now.

When you come up, making sure that you continue to lavish affection on Celestia’s marvelous stallionhood, a touch of disappointment fills you that you will never be able to take the organ completely. You simply have to taste every inch of her.

Instead of swallowing her again, this time you begin to pepper her cock with light kisses and licks, paying special attention to her medial ring, it seems nearly as sensitive as her glans judging by the extremely pleased noises she makes when lick and nibble at it.

You move down lower, into unexplored territory and at the same time, almost of its own bidding your hand reaches up to cup her heavy balls. Just past them you can feel the hard, hot nub of her clit and the silken folds of her marehood. You roll a thumb other that sensitive button and it makes her moan.

“It’s going to be soon,” you hear her hiss, and almost immediately you return to her cock in full.

Your lips close over the head, your tongue goes to its task seeking out every sensitive spot you’ve found thus far and you dive down, taking more of her than ever.

There is a sudden tightness to her length, the skin grows taut, the vein of her urethra swells and you pull back till only the head of her cock remains in you mouth and an instant later you hear your Princess gasp and groan as her orgasm breaks through and your mouth is flooded with her cum.

It is hot, sweet and salty but you cannot savor the taste for the sheer volume, instead you gulp down as much as you can but you soon find that keeping pace with her orgasm is simply not possible. It spills out over your lips and soon you have release it and fall backwards to catch your breath, which means you feel splatter across your face in great molten ropes of pure pleasure.

The smell, the taste, the feel of Celestia’s sticky seed is overpowering and on a level so raw and primal that you could scarcely have imagined it before this moment, good and glorious.

You do not care that it is the final transmutation of Celestia in your mind from regal Goddess to be worshipped in purity to one for whom the highest praise can only be exultation in every life affirming act. You do not care that your uniform has been ruined at this point, as her seed falls not only upon your face, but splatters across your suit jacket, shirt and pants as well.

You care only for Celestia.

That moment seems to stretch into a blissful, sticky eternity. It is not an eternity though, it is only a moment and all too soon reality and some degree of rational thought reasserts itself.

You look around, idly wiping some of Celestia’s cum from your face.

“We seem to have made an awful mess,” you say in a detached voice.

Celestia laughs, not a polite chuckle or lady like giggle, but a full on belly laugh. She actually doubles over, clutching at her sides as she laughs, and the sight brings a smile to your face as well and soon you’re joining her.

It feels good, and despite the mess, clean. A weight seems have been lifted from your shoulders, which is fortunate because soon they are supporting the Princess who seems completely helpless with mirth.

This is difficult for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that even without the girth speaking of a healthy appetite on her part, and the rather considerable muscle mass beneath that, Celestia is considerably larger than you. She is head and shoulders taller than you are, and considerably more broad.

So it is that you find yourself born to the floor beneath her chuckling, pleasantly soft and curvy form.

Your breath catches for a second when you realize that the Princess is still rock hard, her stallionhood still pulsing with lust but before you can voice your surprise her lips are pressing against yours and all you can do is yield as she kisses you deep and long.

If she minds that your mouth must still taste of her cock and cum she does not show it in the slightest, in fact she seems to seek out pockets of her seed that had not been swallowed down. She breaks the kiss only to lick a long stream of the sticky stuff into her own mouth before returning to the kiss, pushing it into your eager mouth.

Finally she sucks it out of your mouth and swallows it all down in a single satisfied gulp.

Sometime during this Celestia had begun rutting against you, her massive stallionhood wet with your saliva, sticky with her cum and still hard, hot and throbbing is pressing and rubbing against your own.

“I think we will get along famously,” she growls, and you wonder if she has designs on your mouth again.

“How much time before breakfast?” she asks in that same low growl.

You slap at your jacket again till you find the watch, getting your hand slimy with cum in the process.

“Roughly two hours,” you say after snapping it open.

“Hmmm… that leaves us about an hour to play before we have to get cleaned up,” she practically purrs the words, wiggling her hips so that her stallionhood slaps playfully against your own, “and you still have to climax.”

Celestia stands up, pulling you with her. She strolls around you, tracing her hand across your chest as she does so before sitting down on the bed behind you.

“Strip,” she commands.

You obey immediately. Truth be told give the sticky sogginess of your clothing you were rather looking forward to removing them.

Still, you have been well trained as a professional gentleman and you make certain to neatly fold your clothing as it comes off, setting it to the side and soon you are completely naked.

No sooner have you folded your trousers than you feel celestia’s hand, still in those silky shoulder length gloves, stroking over a buttock.

You flinch instinctively at the touch, which soon drifts higher once you relax, to the base of your tail. 

She runs a hand through your tail before standing up and continuing to stroke over your back, tracing the curve of your spine and the shifting lines of muscle beneath your skin. Her ethereal mane brushes over your naked body, her lips kiss the back of your neck and you find yourself melting back into her soft, gentle warmth.

The swell of her breasts contrast with the strength of her cock, and you idly wonder if the fact you want that so badly makes you gay now? You don’t particularly mind if it does though.

She turns you around and guides to the bed. Without any words she urges you to bend over it, and your heart hammers in anticipation of what you think she has in mind.

Celestia seats herself beside you and strokes a hand  over your backside, from you tight balls to the puckered ring of your anus.

“You aren’t ready for me to rut you just yet,” she says in a low voice, “your cute little hole would be utterly ruined if I just entered it. We will train you to take me though.”

“How?” you ask.

“We will begin with fingers, then toys, then stallions of assorted sizes,” she gives your bottocks a playful slap, “I suspect you will enjoy it, I know that I will. I do so enjoy seeing stallions penetrated.”

You can practically hear the smirk on her face, “not as much as I enjoy penetrating them of course, and…” she pushes the tip of her index finger into you with slow force, “not as much as being penetrated myself.”

“If you do not object, I would also enjoy your service on my more feminine parts, but that can be seen to later,” she withdraws the tip of her finger and strides over to her bedside table again. You see her withdrawing a bottle of lube and a thin, blue object.

“I need you to relax now,” Celestia says when she is directly behind you.

Of course whenever any sapient creature hears the words “I need you to relax now,” they immediately tense up, and even though you are anticipating whatever your goddess is about to do, you still do exactly that.

“Relax…” Celestia purrs as she bends down low, and the first squirt of warm lube lands just below your tail, and runs in a slow, oozing slide down till it reaches your puckered hole, and you feel Celestia’s thumb press against that entrance.

You have expected her to simply shove her thumb in, but instead she rocks it slowly back and forth over the tight ring of your anus, an action that feels surprisingly good. You realize that she is attempting to massage you into relaxing so that you can be freely fingered with minimal discomfort.

In the end you can’t fault her reasoning as soon your anus does indeed loosen up and she is able to slide her thumb in. It takes awhile, but between the lubricant and the gentle, stroking pressure she applies you have taken her whole thumb before too long, her other fingers pressed against your buttocks.

With her other hand Celestia takes your member and begins to lightly tug on it from base to tip.

“Nice and hard for me?” she says in a low murmur before planting a kiss on your buttocks, “it really does an older mare good to know that she’s still so desirable.”

You are shuddering and breathing hard at this treatment. The anal invasion was bad enough, she’d begun to fuck you with her thumb, but the way she strokes your cock is simply amazing.

Of course over thousands of years she’s had more than enough time to build up any skill she chooses, and the realization of this dies in your mind beneath an avalanche of pleasure as her fingers roll skilfully over your cock head.

“I want you to consider the feel of having yourself filled,” Celestia says, “ the way your walls clench around my thumb, and that pressure you’re feeling, quite nice isn’t it?

You choke out an affirmative and are rewarded this time with a long, lingering kiss to your aching testicles. Celestia licks and sucks at them for a full minute while never faltering in her use of your other parts.

“I want you to understand something, the pleasure you’re feeling now is nothing compared to what it will feel like when you are finally able to take my full length into your back door,” she nips softly at the firm flesh of your backside, “you’ll have to train hard for it though, but even that will be pleasurable. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes Celestia!” You moan.

“Every morning, this is how you will cum. From me fingering your tight little hole,” as if to emphasize this she picks up speed, “and throughout the day you will have a sex toy in that lovely little entrance, to be removed only when it is hygienically necessary. Additionally…”

She lets the word hang in the air, waiting for you to inquire.

“Additionally what?” you finally ask, and are rewarded with a finger tracing around your urethra which makes you groan.

“Additionally I’m thinking a single stallion with a relatively small member. We will build up from there,” she removes her thumb from your bum and before you can lament its removal two fingers are pushed into you, “by the end of the week, if you are willing, I would enjoy seeing you service a pair of them. What do you think of that plan?”

You groan inarticulately and Celestia chuckles.

“Are you enjoying the thought of a pair of stallions mercilessly fucking your tight ass? Are you savoring the thought of hot cum being pumped into you?” a lascivious tone enters her voice, “I know that I will enjoy watching you take as much cock as you can.”

That is it for you. The images she’s put into your mind, the stimulation on your cock and prostate, the feeling out fullness from her fingers inside of you, all of these catch up and shatter the tension that had been growing in you from the minute you laid eyes on the Princess’s gloriously naked body.

The feeling as you spurt your load into, as it turns out, Celestia’s hand is indescribable. You shake and gasp as your cock jerks and go limp as your orgasm finally subsides, though tremors still remain.

For a long moment the world spins, things have no context, not even the feeling of strong yet feminine hands turning you around.

When things do come back into focus you are gazing up at Celestia, who is looking down at you with a beatific smile. She raises her hand, the one slimy with your cum to her lips, and licks it clean before bending down to once more kiss you and share the thick, salty treat.

You do not resist as she raises you up and takes you into her bathroom. By then you are able to function again and stand on your own.

“Draw us a bath, please,” Celestia says, “Tell me when it is ready, I have something to take care of first.”

You nod, and as she leaves the room wonder about her use of the word “us.” It seems that she means for the two of you to share ablutions together, which excites parts of you that really should have been exhausted by recent activities.

When the bath is hot, and the bubbles good and thick, you call out to Celestia, peering out into her room.

She acknowledges you with a nod but does not interrupt what appears to be a magical working.

Celestia sits in a small circle of golden energy, the bowl of her cum before her and then as you watch she lifts up the bowl and decants the contents into a large jug.

When the Princess stands up, the circle breaks and you are struck with the full, hot, prickly force of the magic it had been containing, making you stagger back a bit.

As she steps into the bathroom with you, now completely naked and still fully aroused, Celestia explains herself.

“Any part of an alicorn’s body is a powerful magical reagent, especially ones that have mystic significance regardless of a pony’s race. Blood for morbid things, hair for illusions, sexual fluids for more entertaining ones,” she pats the bottle, “this is now a potion of virility, it will bestow the endurance and production of an alicorn on anypony who drinks it, at least for a time. I keep a healthy stock of it around for when I’m entertaining guests, but this particular bottle is a wedding present for my last butler.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about him,” you say as you guide her into the tub, “got married did he?”

“Indeed,” she smiles as she sets the bottle aside and then yanks you bodily in with her, “His husband had his heart set on opening a cafe back in his hometown, and I am not the sort to stand in the way of love.”

A distant, wistful look enters her eyes as she finds the soap and a wash cloth. Minutes later she passes them to you.

“Now, we dallied enough for one morning,” Celestia’s voice is suddenly all business though a playful tone still infuses it, “you will wash me, thoroughly, and then I will happily return the favor. After that I will see to your training aid for the day, you will dress me, then yourself and we will go down to breakfast.”

You frown as you remember the state your clothes are in.

“I gave orders for a fresh uniform to be brought up for you,” she says as you begin on her back, followed by a very pleased groan as you massage her,

You have a feeling that you are really going to enjoy this job.