F*ck Me or F*ck Off
De-stressing
By: Flammenwerfer
Stella Sabre, clad in her Lunar Guard’s armor set sans helmet, stared across the ebony-wooden table in utter disbelief. A brief once-over inside the armor would reveal a mare in excellent shape, even by a guard's standards; powerful, lean muscle covered her body, especially on her rear... where she had caught many-a-pony staring on multiple occasions. Her mane was well-groomed and in a ponytail like she so preferred, and her prominent, golden eyes lent much more weight to her facial expressions… especially towards the emotions of quickly-rising irritation and distress as in the current moment. Quivering with pent up anger and indignation in her chair, the batpony darkened the gaze she was shooting at the three other thestrals sitting across from her in their own ceremonial dress.
“Are… are you kidding me right now?” she asked in astonishment, her iconic Northern Equestrian Mountain accent bathing her every spoken syllable. When the stoic expressions of her superior officers across the table did not waver in the slightest, she huffed out incredulously, placing both of her hooves on the table. “You’re actually serious…!” she scoffed.
“Troop dynamics are never a joking matter, Corporal Sabre,” the middle, male officer, Lieutenant Haze, spoke, and the others echoed the same sentiment with curt nods. “The Lunar Guard—despite your sterling service record—does not believe you are the most apt candidate for the job, and as such, we must consider somepony else.”
“For three performance reviews in a row?!” Stella protested, raising her voice beyond what she would normally consider proper in front of superior officers, but this was not the first time she had been slighted in favor of somepony else for several reasons of ‘politics.’ “With all due respect, sir, if you compare my service record with that of any other, eligible soldier, I outclass everypony else in my squad, and even in my entire company!”
“I’m sorry, Corporal,” the left-most thestral officer piped up with an equally no-nonsense tone, one which cut through Stella’s protests like a knife. “As you know, it has already been decided. Your appeal has been denied, and there is no point in arguing this further.”
Stella was silent, her mouth still open, but no words came out. Instead, she shut her maw and leaned back in her seat. The quivering, however, migrated from her haunches to her front hooves as anger began to seep out unbridled. Stella, notoriously, was a mare that took absolutely no shit from anypony, yet she still held the highest regard for her officers. This philosophy of hers, mainly the latter portion, went out the window as she began to lose control of the restraints she had to put around her normally fiery and confrontational personality.
After so many times of being screwed, something in her finally had to snap.
“So I’ve seen,” she seethed, enunciating every word. “Do you smell that…?” she suddenly asked, donning a much more curious complexion, tapping her hoof to her chin as she averted her gaze elsewhere. Naturally, the seemingly random question took her superiors off-guard.
“Ummm, no… I don’t smell anything, do you two?” the right thestral asked. The other two shook their heads, equally confused.
“It’s an interesting smell…” Stella elaborated. “It smells like ‘lying fuckery’ with a dash of ‘nepotism!’” she exclaimed angrily, pointing her right hoof accusingly at the three.
“Corporal!”
“Deny it!” Stella shouted, standing on her hind-hooves on the chair. “It’s awfully strange that the promotion goes to the son of Captain Nightshield! He hasn’t got shite for proper experience, never shows up to his post in the nick of time, and the twat looks like a downey Fleur de Lis had ‘erself a fuckin’ sex change!”
“You are OUT of line, Sabre!” Lieutenant Haze suddenly stood up authoritatively. Stella was not phased in the slightest.
“No, YOU three are out of line!” Stella countered aggressively, so much so that the Lieutenant subtly flinched. “You wanna deny me a promotion, FINE! You wanna promote a fuckin’ nutter into any modicum of power, FINE! But DON’T fuckin’ lie to my face and tell me that I’m ‘not qualified!’” she so eloquently elaborated, not stuttering and showing the confidence behind her words.
“And THIS is more than enough reason to further discredit your appeal, Sabre, other than your lack of understanding the Lunar Guard’s deployment strategy,” Haze added coolly, though his anger clearly showed through. “You can expect more than a couple reports being forwarded to command about your insubordination; your ‘pristine’ record is tarnished.”
Stella donned a gaze of being thoroughly unimpressed, but her sudden scoffing quickly turned into sardonic laughter.
“Oh don’t even try to tell me this isn’t about politics you dopey fucks,” Stella rebutted dismissively, completely losing any inhibition at this point. She did not care what happened from here on out, but she was absolutely done with this. “And ‘strategy?’ Don’t make me fuckin’ laugh. I served in the army for five years and saw deployment in the badlands under amazing commanders while you three were still stroking each other off in Officers Training,” Stella derided with a contemptuous giggle. Her staunch choice in words stunned all three of her superiors, which left her open to continue, while getting off of her chair to leave.
“‘Strategy…’ Pfft. Fuck off. You cunts couldn’t strategize a throbbing cock into a begging mare in heat,” Stella said over her shoulder as she reached the door of the conference room. How fast everything unfolded ensured that the three officers were still left in an awestruck stupor.
“I’ve had enough of this, and if you’re going to penalize me because I refuse to lick up Captain Nightshield’s cum off your faces, then I have nothing more to say here.”
“That’s enough, Sabre!” Haze shouted, setting his rear hooves on the ground and slamming his front hooves on the table. “This will be forwarded to the Captain immediately and is grounds for dismissal!” he threatened.
“Good!” Stella mocked, overemphasizing her native drawl just a bit. “While yer at it, tell the Captain, from me, to stick a parasprite up his ass!” she finished with a beaming smile, saluting half-heartedly to her ‘superiors’ and slamming the door behind her. Without hesitating, she shot out the nearest window of the Castle corridor and took flight in the direction of the barracks, letting the cool night air flow freely through her mane and coat to cool down the boiling blood flowing (proudly) through her.
“Celestia that felt good…” she said to herself, just wanting to shed her armor and go out for a heavy drink. Her little outburst was a long time coming, and Stella conceded, in hindsight, that she could have handled it better. But then again, just smiling and saying ‘okay sir’ would most likely not have solved anything. Moreover, she didn’t think she could waltz up to Princess Luna so informally… that’s why Her Highness had given the necessary authorities to ponies below her in her Guard.
It didn’t matter to her at this point, though.
Losing her armor and leaving in merely in her own coat, Stella took flight to a particular place in Canterlot favored by batponies: The Stalactite. It was a bar and tavern that was dimly lit and sported food and drink for all who wanted. Anypony was allowed in, and quite a few ponies other than thestrals patronized the place… but due to the aforementioned patronage, any food served was more batpony-esque, and alcohol tended to be on the stronger side.
And boy, strong alcohol was something Stella needed at the moment.
A comfortable, twenty-minute flight through the night air ended when Stella touched down outside the unassuming establishment, which looked like a building that was built into a rock edifice. The two windows that flanked the small entrance lit up, barely, with some light from within, which was the only indication that there was any form of life inside. Stella knew well, though, that it was bustling indoors, so she let herself in without a care in the world and descended the stairs into the lower level.
The sight of the main tavern greeted her, and it was as if she was stepping back into her home in the Northern Cave Networks. As she left it last time, Stella sighed out in relief as her ears were graced with the natural, ambient noise of a happening eatery, and the dim, barely-discernable violet light that lit up strategic areas of the main floor did well to cast the right amount of light and the perfect amount of shadow. Booths on the left end, tables in the middle, and stools right up against the massive bar on the right was the arrangement, perhaps traditional, perhaps not. All of it was encapsulated by the walls which seemed to be carved roughly out of the mountainside itself, giving it a warm feeling for any batponies who might have had a case of homesickness.
Perfect.
Stella descended the last stairs and mosied her way towards the bar, finding a trio of empty seats and taking the middle one, so she did not have to sit next to anypony. The last thing she wanted was company at the moment, as she would much rather drown her mood in a few pints of beer. Hoisting herself up, she got comfortable and set her hooves on the counter, letting the bartender, another, graying thestral on the older side, know that he had another customer.
“Welcome to the Stalactite! How may I—Oi! Hey Stella,” the barkeep greeted in an identical accent, suddenly changing his tune when he laid his orange eyes on the iconic ponytail of one of his regular customers. Stella only mustered a weak smirk in return.
“Evenin’ Orion,” Stella replied before slamming down a bag of bits on the counter. “Classic North. Gimme the extra works with it too. Keep ‘em comin’.”
“Sure thing, pretty lassie,” Orion replied, immediately getting started on her drink. “You alright? You look like ya pissed out a kidney stone.”
“Aye, I’ll live, mate. Just work troubles, like always,” Stella replied, a bout of fatigue starting to hit her for some reason, and opting to rest her head against the counter momentarily.
“Should I be worried?” Orion inquired, beginning to fill up the glass that would be gracing Stella’s lip in a few moments.
“No, but you should be worried if ya don’t get me my fuckin’ drink, ya big cunt,” Stella answered with a trademark, toothy smile, much to Orion’s glee.
“Haha! There’s the Stella I know!” he proclaimed, topping off the mare’s glass and placing it in front of her. “For you, love.”
“Cheers, mate,” Stella thanked, raising her glass to him before chugging nearly the entire contents down in one swig. “Ahhhh~… fuck that’s good. You sure know how to treat a mare, Orion,” she joked, earning a few hearty chuckles out of the older gentlestallion.
“Don’t tell me wife that,” he whispered, his turn to elicit a little chortle out of Stella as she finished off her first drink of the evening; Orion promptly replaced it with another. “But really, sometimes, all anypony needs is a good drink, aye?”
“Aye, ain’t that the truth,” Stella replied, agreeing wholeheartedly as she immediately dove into her second mug of beer of the night. Orion was about to say something else to her when he was suddenly hailed to the other side of the bar.
“Gotta go tend the tap down there. I’ll be back in a bit,” he announced as he set down a third round for her, to which Stella raised her glass in response. Bringing the cold glass to her lips, she leaned her head back and let the liquid contents slide down her gullet as Orion trotted away. Hammering back her second drink and slamming the glass back on the counter, Stella bore a thousand-yard stare. While she was more than happy to say the things she said earlier, and mean every bit of it, it still brought on the very real, most likely case that she would be dismissed from the Guard.
Leaning her head on her left hoof and gripping her third beer by its handle with her right, Stella let her mind entertain the idea of her getting kicked out of the Lunar Guard. Anypony who knew her knew that she absolutely loved her job, but did not entirely enjoy the ponies she worked with. That being said, being cheated out of what was, in her opinion, rightfully hers, refusing to play politics with her commanders, and getting kicked out as a result of expressing her disgruntled feelings in her own, unique way would still be a huge blow to her pride. Stella never came from a privileged life, and the source of said pride for her and her family was her impressive set of accomplishments over the years for somepony as young as she was.
It was not like she was without options though. Assuming she was let go, Stella entertained a few courses of action she could take. At first, she could take a break for at least a month or so, and perhaps go back to the Northern Mountains to see her family. Technically, as of now, she did not have the leave to do so, and even more technically, she should have been manning a post right now, so she was AWOL by definition.
Like she cared. She had every intention of going back to the barracks and crawling into her bunk when she was pissed drunk, so she’d take the ‘failure to report;’ not that it mattered, anyway. That was only one saving grace about having incompetent commanders: much more lax on schedules and reporting, and considering this was the Princess’ first line of personal defense, that was actually fairly horrifying.
Fuck it, she thought as she hammered back half of her third, gargantuan glass.
Assuming that she did not get arrested in her time out, the option to rejoin the army was always on the table. She still kept in touch with her old commanders even after she transferred to a coveted Royal Guard position, and she could confidently count on them to let her get back in despite the happenings of late, and most likely, even with a nice signing bonus.
Stella began tracing figure-eights on the counter with her right hoof, letting the alcohol settle in her stomach for a few moments. The army never tried to play favorites or politics. In fact, she advanced from a recruit to a corporal within two years and gladly remained there. The pay was decent and she had a wonderful squad, among other things. Ultimately, she felt that she had better opportunity in the Guard, which was the reason she transferred there in the first place.
“STELLA!” another batpony suddenly made himself known, yelling her name right in her ear and slamming his hooves on the table.
“GAAAHH! FOR FUCKS S…” Stella cried out before angrily (teeth bared) directing her attention to the startling disturbance… and finding exactly the last pony she wanted to see.
“I didn’t know you had the night off, Stella!” Nova Nightshield, the exact pony whom the promotion was awarded to, exclaimed smugly. “Come have a drink with us!” he beckoned, gesturing over to another group of Lunar Guards who accompanied him. Naturally, Stella had no desire to associate with anypony else, especially him. She had already seen enough of his lightish-grey coat, faded crimson mane, and seemingly light-pink colored eyes.
“Nae, I’m good, Nova,” Stella replied in a low tone of voice, a subtle signal that this was his only warning to leave her and let her wallow on her lonesome.
“Awww come on!” Nova nudged her harshly, nearly making her spill her drink, which only infuriated her more. “We’re celebrating my promotion! Come join us!” he invited cordially, but Stella knew for a fact that he was not being genuine. His false inclusivity was merely a mask for arrogance, which stemmed precisely from the fact that having a father as captain of the Lunar Guard blew an incredible amount of smoke up his ass. She had dealt with him on many, many occasions, and he was as incompetent as he was full of himself.
However, that last comment did not sit well with her.
“Oh yeah?” Stella asked rhetorically, sipping more of her beer and already beginning to feel the warming effects of the alcohol diffusing through her body. “You mean the one you didn’t earn?”
Nova blinked several times, almost looking offended.
“Umm, what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked sarcastically, and the thestral mare leaned in closer, her demeanor darkening considerably.
“You know fuckin’ well what I mean, you snivelling prick,” Stella seethed, rolling her ‘r’s much more emphatically. “You didn’t earn anything. Your father got the promotion for you, and took it away from me! Congratulations, Sergeant, but don’t let it go to your head. I and so many others are better soldiers and will always be a better soldiers than you; you know it, and I know it. Also, you’re a doaty fucking cunt, so at least you’ve got that going for you, yah?”
She took another swig of her beer. “Piss off.”
Nova laughed uproariously, conveying to his comrades that he seemed to have been told a funny joke or something, but in reality, Stella knew that he was mocking her; rubbing it in her face, which only made her narrow her eyes and close off her posture.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Stella!” he ‘attempted’ to console her. “So I got promoted over you, you’ll get it next time! Now come on, I’ll buy you a drink so you can toast with us, what’ll it be?” he asked, scooting right next to her and, again, nudging her.
“Sure,” Stella replied neutrally. “I’ll have three glasses of ‘get fucked and kill yourself, you hackit, miserable tosser!’ It’s a batpony classic, do they serve it here?!” she said bellicosely, getting right in Nova’s face and implicitly threatening him with bodily harm by the tone of her voice. A few heads turned at the disturbance momentarily, but it was not loud enough to draw the attention of the entire tavern. Nova flinched noticeably but he tried to play it off.
“Need I remind you that I outrank you now?” he softly pointed out while tapping her hoof, glancing back at his friends who were looking at them weirdly. At that instant, Stella saw red, and she swung the hoof he tapped outward, striking Nova right on the cheek with an audible ‘clack’ and almost taking him clean off of the stool.
“Touch me again and I’ll shatter this fucking mug right on your snout!” Stella roared, snapping completely and holding her now-empty beer mug threateningly, a warning which Nova heeded while clutching his face, sinking lower in his stance. This time, the entire eatery was silenced, and all eyes were upon the duo. “Do you want a fucking glass facial?”
“Okay!... Okay!” he attempted to unsuccessfully calm the raging thestral mare while shaking his head rapidly, backing off but tripping over his own hooves. Stella was on him in an instant, holding her empty glass high as if she was going to clobber him with it while getting right in his face once more.
“Shut it! Shut yer fucking mouth right now!” Stella ordered, pointing her empty glass at him and not caring in the slightest about rank anymore, nor the fact that everypony else was staring at them. The lack of surprise on a lot of the patrons’ faces was indicative of this not being the only time such an incident has occurred.
“O..Okay…” Nova whispered out, being reduced to a whimpering foal on his back.
“Shut the fuck up, you cunt!! I’m not playing at hating you, I actually fucking hate you; get that through your head, and fuck off before I break the handle off this mug and push it up your cock!” she threatened, intending to start bludgeoning him should he say or do anything other than leave. All of Nova’s friends had stood up but Stella shot them the same threat silently with her eyes and a flashing of her teeth.
They backed down instantly.
As well, Nova scurried away back to the safety of his comrades. Flaring her nostrils once more and huffing out, she returned to her barstool, where Orion was waiting with another beer.
“Sorry about the scene,” Stella said softly, reining in her temper, if only somewhat.
“Hey! I’ve seen a lot worse here, so no worries. This one’s on the house, and…” Orion paused for dramatic effect, placing another larger, darker looking beer right next to Stella’s own drink. “This is from somepony else.”
“Really…” Stella replied, less than impressed considering what just transpired not even a few moments ago. She was not in the mood to have somepony try to pick her up. “And who thinks he’s the lucky stallion?”
“Well, he was back there,” Orion said, pointing behind her, but as Stella turned around, true to Orion’s use of past tense, there was nopony there.
“I’m so sorry... I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea…” a gentle voice sounded from her right side, startling her again and forcing her to turn towards the disturbance. Again, Stella was astonished to see exactly who it was, as if she had a penchant for seeing the unexpected today.
“S-Soarin!? Wonderbolt Soarin!?” she questioned in disbelief, finding who she knew, for a fact, to be the Wonderbolt in plainclothes, and by ‘plainclothes,’ that meant a simple jacket and his own light-blue coat, on top of his hair styled neatly, but differently. Soarin quickly shushed her so they would not attract as much attention. He would rather not be swamped at this moment, and Stella could not blame him.
“Sorry…” she said softly this time, though her initial surprise wore off and her previous mood began to return, celebrity present or not. “I’m not in the greatest mood right now, but thank you for the drink,” she added stoically.
“So I saw. Again, sorry if I was conveying the wrong message, but you looked like somepony who could use a heavier drink,” Soarin reiterated, and this time, unlike with Nova, Stella did not sense anything off with him. Her years in the army honed her ability to read ponies, a skill that she had even before then, but since that aforementioned time, she had only gotten better at it. In fact, there seemed to be a shred of knowing lacing his words.
“Oh?” Stella asked skeptically nonetheless. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, other than the show you put on, it takes a bad day to know a bad day. I had my own bullshit to deal with, which is why I’m here tonight... like other nights,” Soarin answered a bit vaguely, sipping his own drink while looking forward.
“I frequent this place like a whore does a clinic; I don’t recall seeing you here,” Stella remarked, sipping the drink that Soarin gave her, which turned out to be quite good, one she had not tasted yet.
“I know; but I recall seeing you here. And it’s because I usually don’t make myself known, nor am I near Canterlot as much,” Soarin explained, glancing over to his left to meet her gaze. Stella nodded her head in consideration.
“Fair enough, mate,” she said, taking another swig. “So, since you’re not being all nyaffy, what’s your story?”
“The team was practicing today, and we ended up eating it, big time. They all blamed me for the fuckup.”
“Well? Did you cock up?” Stella asked cheekily, earning a half-smirk from the Wonderbolt.
“I did, actually. I’ll own up to that,” he admitted. “But then Spitfire and a few others started giving me more shit; overkill for a mistake like that,” Soarin recounted, his left hoof gesturing while he talked. “Saying things like ‘you’re always the one who screws us up,’ and ‘X years with us and you’re still making these stupid mistakes,’ yadda yadda.”
Soarin finished off his drink.
“According to Spitfire, tomorrow, she’s gonna ‘PT me ‘till I die.’”
“Ouch,” Stella voiced, flinching a bit as she stared at her beer, watching the bubbles form and travel. “Aren’t you lot supposed to be like a family? Havin’ orgies in the locker room and dropping the soap?”
Soarin got a much needed laugh out of that, and Stella herself gave a little huff at her comment.
“No, contrary to popular belief, we aren’t having sex with each other in the showers… though that doesn’t mean that ‘relations’ don’t go on,” he noted pointedly. “Point is, though, shit happens and words are said where, out of the blue, you’re questioning your role among your peers.”
“Point taken,” Stella nodded thoughtfully, understanding where Soarin was coming from. “As for me, I got denied a promotion because that twatbadger you saw me talking to was handed it by his father. Third time in a row I’ve been passed up because of politics, mind you, and I kinda ran my chops on my superiors during an appeal.”
Soarin gazed over to her again, eyebrow cocked and thoroughly intrigued.
“How bad we talking?”
“Ummm, telling them ‘I won’t lick the Captain’s cum off your faces’ and ‘so incompetent you can’t lead a cock to water and make it fuck’ bad,” Stella elaborated, and Soarin nearly lost it.
“Wooow… I’m a stallion and I wish I had balls half as big as yours.” Stella giggled at the comment, because it was a compliment she received often (and treasured). “So, in the end, I might die, and you might get kicked out.”
“Bleh… don’t fuckin’ remind me,” Stella deadpanned, finishing yet another drink, a drink which Orion promptly replaced again. Being a mare who loved her alcohol, she got extraordinarily good at telling her limits and being able to demarcate, even in her inebriated state, almost to the sip, her different levels of drunkenness. So, at this point, she could safely say she was tipsy. “Cheers to us, aye?”
“Oh yeah,” Soarin replied with equal enthusiasm (or lack thereof), the two of them clinking their glasses together and chugging back another few large gulps of the liquid courage.
“At any rate, I should probably get going,” Soarin spoke up again, ruffling his jacket in search for something. “Gotta get some sleep for my death sentence.”
“Oh… okay,” Stella replied, almost dejectedly, and at first she was not entirely sure why that was. It was not the most enthralling conversation in the world, but she had to admit she was not hating it. Further, it was not every day that she got the meet a known member of the Wonderbolts and chat with them over a few drinks, one which they bought for her, no less. It was nice to share crappy experiences with another individual who had an equally crappy day, though perhaps on a slightly different level.
Soarin dropped the appropriate amount of bits on the counter, which even covered Stella’s tab.
“Wow… I can’t believe my damn manners; I never got your name!” he said, suddenly having an epiphany.
“Stella. And I bloody know yours already, but either way, it’s nice to meet you in person,” she replied with a smile, the two bumping hooves.
“The pleasure was all mine, trust me… but now, I’m go back to my hotel and take a nice, long bath for some relaxation and stress relief before tomorrow. So, I’ll see you around,” he said while adjusting his jacket, shooting her a friendly wink and heading towards the exit.
“Soarin,” Stella called back, causing the Wonderbolt to stop in his tracks and face her again.
“Yeah?”
“I know a good stress reliever,” the batpony mare vaguely suggested with little emotion to help convey her message.
“What do you mean?”
The door to Stella’s room in the barracks flew open, nearly getting taken off of its hinges when she bucked it with all her might. It was necessary, considering she and Soarin were connected at the mouth, their tongues voraciously having a contested battle for their joined mouth-space. Wrapping her front hooves around his neck, Stella led him inside (he having enough mental clarity to shut the door behind them) and the two did their best to make their way to Stella’s bunk. The thestral knew her bunkmate, Emeralda, would not be home for the evening since she was on leave, so all she was concerned with was getting an incredible dicking.
‘Bunks’ weren’t traditional as the term would imply, in the Lunar Guard. Having fewer members than their Solar counterparts meant less ponies had to share rooms, which meant that typical bunk beds could be separated into two standard ones.
Soarin separated his lips from Stella’s momentarily, having to mentally wave away the hazy cloud of lust that shrouded his thought process.
“We’re in your barracks... are you sure about this?” he asked, just to make sure. He was more than ready to go, evident by the twitching, throbbing erection he was sporting for all the (empty) room to see, but it did not hurt to ask. Stella only beamed her smile at him, lowered her eyelids, and fluttered her lashes.
“Soarin, if you don’t shove your tongue in my mouth again I’ll bite it off and make out with it myself…” Stella sweetly threatened. This allayed all of Soarin’s residual concerns and he smashed his lips against hers once more. A small chorus of approving hums and moans emanated from their mouths as their tongues continued to wrestle for supremacy, and finally, Stella made contact with the bed and pulled her soon-to-be lover on top of her and between her rear legs. While she held him in place (and did well to seemingly suck his tongue into her mouth), Soarin’s hooves roamed all over Stella’s form, and they rested right on her haunches, which he found to be incredibly firm.
“Holy… your flanks,” Soarin commented when he had to separate for air, and Stella shot him a knowing, yet lascivious gaze.
“Everypony loves my ass, Soarin…” she commented, angling her head up and grazing his neck with her pristine-white, sharp teeth. Soarin groaned at the thrilling feeling of her teeth biting him just enough where he knew it would leave a mark… but not enough to puncture his skin. Of course, it always helped that she would generously lick the area to soothe it before attacking him elsewhere. After trading neck bites and more making out, Stella and Soarin were both painfully aware of his aching length, rigid and pressing firmly into the batpony’s toned stomach. Soarin then pressed the head into each one of her teats, making sure that he smeared some of his precum into her nipples, which elicited a nice reaction from her
“Guess I don’t have to get you ready,” Stella said huskily, merely stating the obvious. Her heart rate shot through the roof and her breathing escalated at the thought that she was going to get her favorite form of stress relief.
She was going to get fucked; hard.
“I could say the same about you,” Soarin commented cheekily, grinding the base of his shaft directly onto Stella’s soaked marehood. Her lips were now completely distinguishable from her coat from how wet she was, but that was just her, unfortunately. It was like a leaky faucet each time she became horny, and although she never had to spend any money on lubrication in her life, it was a definite liability if her arousal reared its head unintentionally.
But this was not one of those times.
Stella moaned out shakily through bared teeth, shuddering as Soarin began rhythmically grinding his shaft against her swollen netherlips and clit. For Soarin, the slickness of her natural lubrication, combined with the soft, velvety feeling of her lower lips produced untold amounts of pleasure for the stallion, and if his exposure, and the good look he was getting was any indication, this mare would be an incredible lay.
“Ooooh…” Stella moaned, her sonorous little hums, groans, and squeaks sending even more pangs of pleasure into Soarin, spurring his movements onward. “That’s… AHH!... enough teasing, you twat,” she finally spoke, not being able to refrain from her usual lexicon as she pushed Soarin up, giving her just enough room to roll onto her front. Raising her haunches into the air, Stella gazed behind her and flicked her tail side to side, antagonizing Soarin before moving it to the left and giving him a complete view of her winking sex. By default, he also got a magnificent view of her haunches that flanked and framed her dripping labia so wondrously. This was the first time he also caught a glimpse at her cutie mark: two swords intersecting orthogonally, layered above a full moon.
Every second Soarin spent admiring the gorgeous mare’s backside, Stella grew more and more impatient.
“Oi! You gonna keep staring like some oaf or show me what a Wonderbolt’s capable o—OOAHH!” her protests were silenced and replaced with ecstatic moans when Soarin, unexpectedly, dove in with his mouth, pressing his lips and snout directly onto her and going to town with this tongue. Holding her in place by her cutie marks on the flanks he could not get enough of, Soarin did well to bury his tongue into her as much as he could, stabbing her sex and dragging it against her upper walls to a symphony of her pleasurable moaning.
“FUCK!” Stella cried out when Soarin hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. “Right there! Right fuckin’ there!” she pleaded, and her partner was more than happy to oblige her with more of the same action that made her squirm so much. After a decent amount of time of Soarin lapping up her sweet nectar, Stella pushed her butt back, nudging him away from her and separating his mouth from her throbbing sex.
“Damn, I was… heh… really enjoying myself there,” Soarin confessed, his lips still soaked in her juices. “You taste good.”
“Glad you think so, mate… but I need to get stuffed right. now. So, either fuck me, or fuck off!” Stella commented so bluntly, presenting Soarin with a choice. Such a choice had already been made well before the options were even presented.
Soarin eagerly climbed onto the bed and mounted Stella traditionally, planting his hooves right on her sides as he lined himself up. He pressed the head of his cock into her lips, both of them groaning at the firm resistance and squelching sound that accompanied. With little extra effort, Soarin pushed onward, sliding his length deeper into her and nearly hilting himself entirely, much to the delight of the thestral beneath him.
“Ooooohh fuck yesss~!” Stella sighed out in relief at finally being filled, her problems temporarily wiped from her conscious as she enjoyed the rock-hard dick inside of her. Soarin was subjected to a similar, euphoric experience that took up all the resources his mind had.
“Celestia damn, you’re tight…” he awkwardly observed, though his mental coherence was rather limited with the marehood that enveloped his length and was seeming to massage him every time Stella’s heart beat.
“Well… make me not-so-tight, eh?” Stella suggested, wiggling her flank to hammer the message home, and in no time, Soarin was pistoning his dick in and out of her. The batpony’s moans started up immediately, amplified by the fact that Stella had not been laid in months and the pent up stress from the day’s events. Deep down, she knew for a fact that she would not last long, and most likely, neither would Soarin.
Both were just fine with that.
Soarin massaged Stella’s sides and flanks whenever possible as he kept his pace, huffing and groaning on each stroke into her, though the latter’s sex sounds were much more prominent than his, for various reasons.
“Yes… Cunt… hah! YES!!” Stella cried out “Fuck me! FUCK! ME!” Stella commanded, pressing her hips back to meet each of Soarin’s thrusts forward, ensuring that his cock penetrated her as deep as possible. Soon enough, her tongue was lolling out of her mouth and she was drooling onto her comforter but, like so many things today, she simply could not muster the required shits to give. She desperately wanted to snake a hoof up between her hind legs and rub her clit but each time she’d try, Soarin would increase the intensity of his bucks, taking her by surprise and necessitating that she keep both her front hooves planted on the bed.
Soarin was by no means quiet during sex but he was not vocal like Stella either, who dominated the dirty talking as he gradually picked up the pace. His cock throbbed even more, synchronizing with Stella’s heartbeat, and he knew for a fact he would lose himself to the throes of orgasm soon. Stella’s words of encouragement were not helping on that front either.
“Bury that… AHH! Cock in me! Hmmm! MMMPH! Fuck me, you cunt!”
He did not know what it was, but Soarin was finding it immensely arousing being called a ‘cunt’ during this particular intercourse… maybe it was only because Stella had the ability to be both adorable or frightening when she said it.
The mare’s love tunnel was starting to contract on him, and the squelching and sounds of their hips slapping together were loud enough to compete with Stella’s incessant stream of lewd vocabulary spilling from her mouth.
“Fuck me… GAHH! Until you cum!! Shoot it inside me! AHH!... Soarin!!”
Hearing his name made him that much more aware, and for the last stretch before he hit that point of no return, Soarin fucked into her with all he was capable of, pouring every ounce of his worries, his stress, and his anger into his efforts… channeling every single bit of his troubles and stress into the sole action of plowing this gorgeous Lunar Guard to the point where she could not walk properly.
“AAAHHH!!” Stella cried out at the sudden, sharp change in speed and power. “FUCK DON’T STOP DON’T STOP!!”
And suddenly, all was silent.
At the same moment where Soarin felt his cock held firmly inside her, Stella came with an intensity she had not come in a long, long time. At the same time, the sudden constriction around his dick, combined with the sight of the mare beneath him having a massive orgasm sent him toppling over the edge. With a hybrid of a growl and a final groan of pleasure, his seed was spilling uncontrollably into Stella’s depths, filling her up well beyond capacity, even after the product of her own orgasm just mere moments before. Stella’s own juices easily overflowed onto the comforter as her mouth hung wide open in a silent scream of euphoria. Her moaning and any of her words died in her throat in what Soarin thought would have been an explosively vocal orgasm.
“FUUUUUCKKK!!! HAHHH!!! HAAAAAAHHH…… Hahhh…..” Stella whined loudly but at a decreasing volume, finally regaining vocal control, and at that moment, her hooves refused to support any more weight. With silent, tacit agreement, the two fell to the bed in a mess of hooves, though Soarin was still buried within her and their combined product began leaking all over her comforter.
“I… heh… fuck. I needed that… thank you so much…” Stella voiced after a few more moments of catching their collective breaths. “You Wonderbolts… aren’t so bad…”
“I should… heh… be thanking you,” Soarin rebutted, laying his head down completely. Eventually he removed himself from Stella, forcing them both to shudder pleasurably at the feeling, and the two, wordlessly, decided to waste no time in falling into a stressless sleep, if only for the night (and following day, in Stella’s case).
At least, that was the plan. Said plan was going incredibly well for the first half an hour before there were three loud, uniform knocks at her door. Soarin was already out like a light, and Stella was lucky to have been barely stirring.
The soreness was kicking in, and the fact that she was being forced to get up nearly made her cry due to the mixed emotions of being in between sleeping states.
“Are… you… serious!?” she whimpered, knowing in her heart she had to answer or risk getting into even more trouble than she was in… which would be hard to top, anyway. So, she resigned to needing to answer the door, forcing herself up off the comfortable bed.
And she definitely had the ‘wobbles.’
Upon unlocking and opening the door, however, the wobbly-legged thestral mare was nearly floored and rendered incapable, yet again, of speech when she saw who stood before (and above) her.
“P-Princess Luna!” Stella muttered and immediately fell into a bow, though it was a bit harder to maintain considering the state of her hind legs, her coat, mane, and pretty much her entire body. Indeed, the Lunar Princess, clad in nothing but her usual regalia of tiara and peytral, looked down upon the batpony with an ever stoic, intimidating gaze.
“Rise, Miss Sabre. I apologize for disturbing you at this hour of the night, even for a thestral, but I had to see you personally for an important matter,” Princess Luna said, bidding her soldier to rise but at the same time, spotting Stella’s ‘guest’ unconscious on the bed. Further, the pungent smell of sex wafted out. “Hmmm… it appears I have indeed come at a rather inopportune time. Again, my apologies,” she added coolly, having a bit of sympathy for the readily apparent inconvenience. She understood completely.
“I-It’s fine, Your Highness. I’m perfectly free right now,” Stella affirmed, though what else would she say to co-ruler of Equestria and leader of the Lunar Guard? This was probably about the incident that happened earlier and Luna was most likely here to chew her out and cast her out for insubordination, which would be appropriate, in retrospect. Stella knew what to expect.
In the end, she just hoped that the Princess would not notice the cum running down the inside of her hind legs.
“Very well. I’ve ordered the lounge to be evacuated for our purposes. Come,” Luna beckoned with a tilt of her head, trotting down the hall and Stella quickly following suit with moderate difficulty. While her hind legs protested any form of supporting movement at the moment, they were silenced, and Stella’s brain pooled all other resources together to prepare for the massive bollocking she was going to receive.
Too soon, the two arrived in the rather spartan lounge of the Lunar Guard section of the barracks, which only consisted of a few comfortable couches, tables, a fireplace, and a small bar. Luna led them both to the set of parallel sofas which had a coffee table in the middle.
“Have a seat,” Luna said in a manner in which she wished to convey as polite, but came out as almost imperious. Stella did so immediately, sitting across from the Princess and this time, not worrying so much about her leaky love-tunnel. The couch would survive.
“I was told of the incident that transpired in your meeting with your immediate commanders regarding an appeal for promotion,” Luna broke the ice immediately, setting her hooves properly in front of her and holding her head high. The mention of the event made Stella sink, barely noticeably, under Luna’s gaze but she held her posture as firm as possible. She may have been in the wrong, but in the end, the batpony felt she was justified in her actions in some manner.
The Princess took Stella’s silence as a cue to continue.
“Miss Sabre, I task a few certain officers with handling the rank, deployments, strategy, and other matters of promotion of the Lunar Guard, other than their own, of course,” Luna opened with a matter of fact, lifting her right hoof closer to her face and examining it. “But ultimately, who gets promoted, demoted, dismissed, and enlisted is up to me, should I feel the need to intervene. This is true especially on matters of extraordinary circumstance… and discipline,” the Princess elaborated, emphatically punctuating her last word. Her expression never varied.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Stella replied, nodding in understanding.
“In your meeting, you voiced some concerns in a rather… unorthodox manner, to say the least. However, how I learned of this incident was what spurred me to investigate myself: I heard this in passing, being mentioned to Captain Nightshield. This was something that should have been reported to me directly, so I found this most bemusing,” Princess Luna explained, reaffixing her gaze on Stella’s. “I did not need to pry much to get the information I deemed necessary.”
Stella only nodded at the pause, not entirely sure what to say in return. Thus she figured the best answer was no answer at all.
“Accusations of nepotism and vocalizations of ‘no confidence’ are matters I do not take lightly, and are both ideals which I have absolutely no tolerance for. In the end, I would have preferred that you came to me directly with such concerns. This could potentially have been avoided,” Luna proclaimed, raising her voice just a tad and keeping her face devoid of any noticeable emotion. Before Stella could reply at all, Luna magically willed a folder into existence.
“I have reviewed your service record, Miss Sabre, and, much like my thoughts when you first came aboard the Lunar Guard two years ago, I’m most impressed. Several letters of commendation from your previous and current service; marks of excellence, weapons mastery, et cetera; much more than your peers, and what’s more, you have nary an infraction of any kind… erm, aside from today,” Luna read, nodding appropriately in approval. “I attribute this to the discipline learned from your time in the Equestrian Army. While there are unofficial reports of you being… headstrong… in your ways, you certainly have a talent for getting the job done.”
Luna’s tone never seemed to change beyond what was appropriate, and giving no indication of good or bad, though Stella was increasingly assuming the worst, as dictated by her cynical personality.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” the batpony replied with a deep nod to convey gratitude for the little bit of praise.
“Miss Sabre… Corporal,” Luna began anew. “Higher positions in the guard, and conversely, lesser positions, are earned solely based on merit and the requisite eligibility; no more, no less. Upon a limited, personal investigation, which was all I needed to do, honestly, it appeared this was not the case this time, and the last times you were passed up for a promotions,” Luna revealed, and Stella’s ears perked up, as did her complexion.
“Princess?” Stella asked, bidding her to elaborate.
“Based on information that I was not privy to, I do not blame you for losing confidence in command, and the force… and for that, I offer you my sincerest apologies,” Luna said, setting Stella’s files aside. She leaned forward and donned a more open posture, and for the first time, the thestral could see a distinct emotion in her Princess: remorse.
“I intend to have much more direct oversight from now on. Further, my purpose in hailing you was to tell you… nay, ask you, to stay.”
“W-What? Princess, what do you mean by that?” Stella asked, attempting to process the words. She did not want to leave the guard; she loved her job despite the bastards she had to deal with. Stella, like many other batponies, felt they had a duty to Princess Luna, and the foul-mouthed thestral only began lining up other options because she felt she would be dismissed from the Guard Force.
“The Lunar Guard is not short of pony-power, but we are desperate for qualified candidates to fill its ranks. In fact, due to some recent purges I’ve made, I will be in need of a new, competent lieutenant,” Princess Luna stated with a knowing smirk, though Stella was taken aback (in a good way).
“Leftenant?!” Stella repeated bemusedly, made more adorable with her accent. “But I’m a Corporal!”
“So you are,” Luna agreed. “But, if you do wish to remain, consider it retroactive payment for something long owed to you, along with a bonus in salary. And… consider it another way of me saying ‘I’m sorry,’” Luna said, losing a bit of her professional edge to convey the fact that she truly felt responsible for the bureaucratic fuckup. “These new ‘infractions’ on your service record will be expunged immediately. However, if you do not wish to stay, I understand; the army would love to see your return if that is the case. If so, I will gladly write you a letter to help boost your rank. If not that, then consider any other endeavor you wish to pursue as ‘taken care of.’”
With Stella’s instantaneous, toothy smile, there was no contest. The army was fun, but being a guard was still a bit more fun for her. There were better opportunities, and the pay was much better for seemingly less work… a fact Stella never understood but never questioned.
“That won’t be necessary, Your Highness. I love my job, and if you would have me, I would love to be one of your leftenants,” Stella declared confidently. Suddenly, her lower body did not feel so sore anymore. As for the Princess, she could barely contain her elation, as her Guard Force was indeed in need of fine commanders, and if Stella had left or been forced out without the full knowledge of the circumstances, Luna truly would have lost one of her best.
Princess Luna extended her pristine right hoof across the table, and Stella gladly pressed hers against it. Both wore equal gazes and grins of confidence in one another, and excitement (for slightly different reasons) that all had been settled.
“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”