Professional Professionalism!
From the Meeting of New Lunar Millennium Year 10, Third Week of Spring
End-of-Week Meeting: Crystal Production and Sales
HRH Princess Mi Amore Cadenza the Renewer, presiding
Primary Secretary and Voice of the Crystals Ms. Hayley Harshwhinny, presenting
HRH Prince Shining Armor, Royal Consort, assisting in affairs of state.
“My apologies for going over this week, your highnesses,” Ms. Harshwhinny began, “but, ah--”
Her shoulders flexed, powerful lats pressing against the tight confines of her clean-cut suit. Gritting her teeth, Ms. Harshwhinny tapped her clipboard, knuckles tensed, and narrowed her eyes. Even her powerful earth pony muscles found themselves quivering under the force of her tensed biceps; were it not for the high quality materials of her suit, she would be worrying about tearing it across the bulge and press of her bolstering frame.
She took a deep breath, tried to steady herself. Professionalism was a virtue, she told herself, regardless of other ponies’ ability to keep it. “Ah,” she said, standing a little taller, “I believe next week I can get better organization concerning exports. As she took in her breath, her not-unimpressive bust pushed out a little further, her copious cleavage pressing powerfully against the purple curves of her well-stretched power suit. “Hopefully,” she added, “we should not have a similar-- distraction.”
Her last word ended in a hiss, and Harshwhinny felt her taut breasts bounce a bit as she sucked in a breath. ”Thank you, Prince Armor,” she murmured through gritted teeth. Her rump, well-exercised and firmed through years of hallway-bustling, flexed a bit against the bunched folds her suit, letting the material crackle and breathe. She heard Prince Armor chuckle behind her, and had to summon up a burst of will to ignore the weight as he placed a warm, sympathetic hand on her taut forearm
Ms. Harshwhinny knew that well of burning concentration of will and focus lay inside her-- hadn’t she nurtured it over years of inconsequential, bureaucratic meetings? She grit her teeth, vowing to power through no matter which distractions her employers wished to... provide her.
“Prince Armor,” she hissed. “If you please-- we still have business to attend!” His only response was a subtle pump against her back; she groaned and bit back a bit. This meeting had literally already gone on far too long. She had paperwork to complete, records to file-- had the stallion no tact? No patience? Grunting, she straightened her posture once more and flicked her gaze to her other employer. "I believe that covers the concerns for today and the week, Your Highness.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “I'm still very dissatisfied with the production rate of quality sun crystals, to be frank."
The pressure around her shoulder tightened-- followed shortly by another enthusiastic prodding at her back door. Ms. Harshwhinny’s steely buns flexed in protest, and she winced. Her finger drove straight through the reinforced steel of her clipboard, shattering it along with her notes. Her overstuffed bosom heaved, her left eye twitching as that-- that colt!-- continued to nuzzle playfully at the back of her neck. Had he no sense of decorum? Had he no-- ooh, but…
She snapped back into place, as rigid as the steel bars her athletic charges benched so readily. She’d been a proud hyper and sports enthusiast for decades. It showed in the ripped and rippling flex and play of her stern, proud form, and it showed in her preparations-- one kept copious back-ups in case of unexpected crush. For all her employer’s...efforts, it took a minor flare of willpower to stifle any echos of straying attention, and another to ignore the skipped beat of her heart as the shattered debris of her clipboard clattered upon the floor. Before she could apologize and regretfully offer to extend the meeting again to retrieve said notes, though, she felt her taut abs twitch and clench... in direct response to a gentle prod from Prince Armor.
Her ears twitched at the sound of his soft laughter. She could feel him-- the irreverent stud!-- rubbing his fingers appreciatively at her wide-flared lats as he rocked his weight firmly against her rear.
"Heh,” he chuckled, snorting like a schoolcolt. “Whinny, maybe I should take over tapping for you?” His voice, ordinarily not an unpleasant background noise, seemed to be sending flares of irritation up her stressed spine and across her broad, shapely back Especially since he’d once more embraced her hips from behind and decided that despite the official rules, now was a good time to make a few more lewd grindings of his groin against her superlatively padded rear. It didn’t help that she knew he so often felt the need to explain. She braced herself. “Unf-- you know, because, I’m good… at tapping flanks?”
Oh, there it was!
That insufferably libidinous dolt!
It was ridiculous! It was unprofessional! It was… honestly, fairly adorable, and her iron jaw relaxed for a moment, a slightly bemused smile twitching her lips to match her other employer’s knowing grin. Her square-set shoulders slumped in mild surrender. "Prince Armor,” Ms. Harshwhinny huffed. “We are trying to-- ooh..." She grunted to herself, fingers twitching, and walked herself back-- both literally and figuratively.
He wasn't a bad stallion, per se, just nigh-terminally casual. Once she’d completed the classic mare’s move of boxing a stroppy stallion back against an obstacle-- her chair, for the moment-- she tilted her head to the right, raised her best gym coach’s eyebrow and smiled archly. "We are still in a meeting, even if normal office hours are done."
Prince Armor, irrepressible as ever, chuckled deeply. He gave her curvaceous hips a gentle squeeze, settling his grabbiness down somewhat, and sighed. "Sorry, Wh- Ms. Harshwhinny." There was genuine deferential regret in his voice, which pleased her...though, she noted, frowning, the occasionally irksome stud still had not removed his palm from her rump. Of course, she thought, her breath catching as she felt his hands moving to please her as well...such persistence was, at the very least, admirable.
Oh, Celestia, she could feel his pecs bouncing against her back, so big and round so as to make most non-hyper mares jealous. Couldn’t she swear that he’d been wearing a shirt when the meeting had begun? With a stallion of his particular musculature, did it even matter? The steady rise and fall of his chest against her flexing shoulder blades sent shivers down her spine, professionalism or no. With a hopeful note, he added, “I shouldn’t be--- ohhh… clipping your meeting so much?”
To finish, he gave a thick-chested chuff, concluding with a simple, “Sorry.” She decided to let the gentle nuzzle at her neck pass. She couldn't quite help the delicious little curl of her toes as his lips pressed against her shoulder, or her own soft sigh as his big hands wrapped around her hips… but those, at least, she could control. Apologies were respectful; miracles took time.
Letting out a long sigh, she took a step forward and leaned further forward over the desk, awkwardly patted the Prince's right hip, and continued to summarize. "Since even our negotiations with the umbrum frankly won't help with that, I think we'd best take it on the chin and remind those nagging 'Captains of Industry' that national and alliance priorities take primary place for a reason."
She smacked her right hand down in a firm, flat-handed swat for emphasis. For years, Harshwhinny had built her reputation on a foundation of pure, physical steel. Auditory punctuation was no stranger to her. Of course, she was quite aware that the uncouth prince would leer over the bothersomely jigglesome effects on her behind. But! There. The sooner the princess accepted her report, the sooner Ms. Harshwhinny could completely take care of her peaked flare of hyper horniness in its proper place and method.
At this point, she was starting to have unprofessional thoughts about fellating her favorite trophies.... thoughts that, admittedly, she couldn’t entirely blame on the exuberantly flirtatious Prince Armor and his efforts to “help” the meeting.
Across from Ms. Harshwhinny, her divine and temporal boss, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza sat, warm of countenance, and smiled brightly. The desk between them had been specifically designed to Ms. Harshwhinny’s own specifications. Broad, in the darker tones of the toughest crystals of the empire, it was large enough to give Harshwhinny a commanding view of the room and to permanently secure her own personal space, with light abstract decorations masking the usual “in” and “out” trays and various office supplies. It was built to intimidate, and she had stared down minotaur Warmasters and the maretriarchs of ancient unicorn houses with equal aplomb and dignity in pursuit of her liege-lady’s goals. It spoke of power. It was power.
And yet, even standing braced on it while Princess Cadance sat across, one richly-muscled and richer-curved leg crossed delicately over the other, Hayley Harshwhinny felt like she was little teenage Whinny, back in school and waiting for a critique on her final project. From, admittedly, her favorite teacher!
Princess Cadance nodded serenely, wrapped in regality for all that her pulled-up armchair was sized for a mare two feet shorter, and said, "Of course, Ms. Harshwhinny." Ms. Harshwhinny held her composure carefully, enjoying the pure satisfaction and delightful accord of it all. In many ways, especially the triumph on establishing some professional boundaries despite the unusual relationship that the Crystal House had with close members of staff, such as herself. At least she, for example, understood the importance of a cordial working relationship-- Prince Shining, by contrast, had never quite appreciated the murky depths that the name “Whinny” brought to a professional environment. Cadance, at least, could keep such things subtle.
Prince Armor supported his wife’s assertion firmly. “I really appreciate it, H-- Ms. Harshwhinny,” he told her. Though he was behind her, she could just hear that ear-to-ear casual smile. “You’ve been pulling off some crazy amazing things since we brought you in on Twily’s rec.” His strong hands kneaded at her shoulders, and she had to resist the urge to groan out loud. When had she last gotten a proper massage? .I really hope we’re returning the favor. You know, with bringing you over, and all.”
She stifled a deep groan again. “Prince… Armor, I…” She was caught a bit. How to handle this dilemma; she was speaking to royalty-- her royalty-- and yet he was really pushing her limits. Prodding, them, even-- and so firmly! There was only so much she could take a mare of her stature would not-- could not permit said standards to lapse during a meeting of this organizational importance! She focused again, despite the distraction of his expert touch and the continuing response of her over-hormonal loins.
“Prince Armor,” she murmured, trying to moisten her drying lips. “Perhaps we might remain… a little less personal, until we conclude?” She heard him sigh behind her, and ensured that a similar sound did not slip from her own lips. “I do appreciate the compliments and the assistance, but let us stay on task to get finished, at least!”
She truly hoped he wasn’t screwing his face up into that pouty lip; it would just mean he’d try harder next time, and then it got to be like she was kicking an especially well-hung puppy.
Ah. Her lip twitched.
Not her best metaphor.
Sweat broke out on Ms. Harshwhinny's face as she caught another burst of royal pleasure full on. It was so nice to be appreciated, but really, sometimes the royal couple could be a bit much. Especially, she thought, lip twisting, when I am the primary recipient of experimental methods for productivity enhancement. She felt the sweat drip down her face, outlining her strong cheekbones and, yes, of course, slicking down into the generous darkness of her oversized cleavage. Her jaws clenched, firming the mask, but it felt like her determination to remain rigidly aloof was following the flow down to her tight core.
Will she or nil she, she felt the spear of her spine unbend and the rigid armor of her determination relaxing back into the Prince’s strong, supportive hands; at least, she surmised, he kept them from overly familiar fondling at the moment. And he was so helpfully keeping her tight pencil skirt from sliding back down, preventing it from re-covering her buff, bare ass. Not a large battle, but this, too, was approval, and she relaxed enough to let out a relieved sigh, the copious swell of her breasts rising and falling with the motion/ She tried not to read too much in the matching motion of her employer’s eyes.
For that matter, Princess Cadance seemed to be particularly pleased with her, despite the meeting’s rut grinding on. The lush alicorn, grand ideal of feminine beauty that she was, seemed to be smiling ever-broader at the second, leaning forward slightly in her chair, her mega-mammaries drifting slightly with every shift and breath. She gently beamed down at her personal secretary, letting said approval ring out in a glorious wave.
Cadance didn’t even have to touch Ms. Harshwhinny to summon up that long, tingling sense of satisfaction running up and down both thighs. For all Harshwhinny’s mental fortitude, she found it only pushing her further back into the Prince’s embrace. She swallowed heavily, did a quick assessment of her mental notes, and decided to try and push through. “Er-- ah. Yes. Your highnesses. I believe we were on the final subject of production?”
The Princess laughed softly and sat back again, jugs the size of teenaged foals bouncing and bobbing with her laughter. Her bright eyes regarded her secretary, and she said, “Shiny certainly is; but yes, again, your organization has been incredible. Frankly, I think we owe a good deal of future expectations of gain to you as well.” Under that loving, slightly lustful stare, Ms. Harshwhinny found her face flushing all the brighter, all the hotter. It was nice to be appreciated for her efforts, quite aside from her frankly ludicrously large salary. And the perks… Her face flushed further, and sweat seemed to pour over her skin in the radiance glowing from the princess' smile.
Unfortunately, some of the perks sometimes got overly perky, at inappropriate moments. She had her doubts in the first place about Princess Twilight’s reports on sexual stimulation to enhance the performance of routine tasks-- well. The Princess of Magic was an expert. However, the application, she believed-- that was still a bit kinked. It’s not that I mind having Prince Armor hilt deep in me. Her thighs gave an appreciative clench as she felt his maleness throb just beneath her rump-- not his fault, she conceded, only somewhat begrudgingly. Elysium knows I’ve gotten to enjoy and even need it, and if it’s helping, then I shall embrace it. However!
If the admittedly loveable lout was going to be a bit bumpy, then she could do the same. Ms. Harshwhinny thrust her rump back hard into the sturdy mass of the Prince’s hips, and managed not to gasp at the self-inflicted stretching and the slap of his weighty testes against her toned thighs. “I grow a little bit tired, sir, of having to shout your name in a non-orgasmic context, Prince Armor, and it is not time for that yet!” she growled. “This is not on schedule for your sister’s recommended rutting rota for these matters!” To her pride-- take that, Captain of the Royal Guard-- she managed to send him staggering back a bit with a delightful scrape of his blunt, flat flare between her inner folds.
He laughed easily, and pulled his fingers back from her clit, where he’d begun the intensely delightful but even more intensely distracting process of flicking and tweaking her needy nub to release. Release she sorely wanted, but after the meeting was done! “Aw, but, Ms. Harshwhinny, it could be incentive?” he asked, and then to her immodest moderate relief, he returned to the gentle, comfortable grind of his oversized member into her stretched womb, for all it tightened her shirt around her sweat-slicked body, taking her back from the peak and to a warm, welcome feeling, like she could take on the world.
“Oh well,” Shining said, and his strong hands went back to her preferred place for them: her heavily muscled rump. “I’ll just keep tight to the rear, instead,” he continued with a laugh. Before she could manage a retort, he renewed his excellent ass massage, only this time, it seemed he wasn’t holding back. Her long, luscious limbs trembled, tingles of delight running across her broad shoulders as her superior stud’s lovely thick fingers worked into the kinks and clenches of her rear, somehow working a week’s worth of chair butt out while keeping her still clinging around his slow-bouncing prick.
It would have been intolerable...if only she could tolerate him stopping. How does Cadance put up…
She gasped, then sighed, a sphere of warmth pulsing in her chest. Ooh… moaned internally, thick quads flexing as her thighs pressed against the exposed flesh of her clit.Against all proclamations of professionalism, she felt her objections drifted away, letting her focus return to her liege lady. She knew that her defiantly firm stance was softening, that her body was arching into the warmth of his thrusts, conforming like some needy broodmare instead of the heady boss she knew she was! Defiance, though, simply seemed less and less worthwhile-- especially when that incorrigible lunk’s ministrations refused to stop feeling so good!
Cadance’s smile broadened, somehow. Her eyes were currently focused on the bulge travelling up and down in Ms. Harshwhinny’s toned tummy-- one of her favorite sights, she’d told Harshwhinny following a particularly exuberant Saturday-night “briefing.” Ms. Harshwhinny grunted, her tight lips curling. “Your Highness,” she growled, “my eyes are up here!”
The princess laughed a bit. Ms. Harshwhinny was uncomfortably aware that it was her turn to gape slightly, for her eyes to follow the wobblesome accentuation of laughter in intimate detail before snapping her gaze back up to Cadance’s. “I’m sorry,” Cadance giggled. She straightened up, steepling her palms with a wink. “For him too.” She waited with a knowing grin, rising her view as Ms. Harshwhinny did until they both met head-on once again.
Cadance continued, "And, to be honest-- I don't think we thank you often enough. You may not be satisfied with sun crystal production, but I don't think there's any reasonable standard by which anyone else might not be. You've managed to triple the growth by bringing in the Sugarspun Confectionist earth ponies. I wasn't even aware that any of that lineage still existed, let alone had knowledge of their ancestral cultivation techniques!” She smiled, the cherubic smile on her lips clashing beautifully with the constant jiggles of her sinfully enormous mammaries. “You’re quite the wonder for us all-- and honestly,” she added, coughing, “I think Shiny is just a bit overenthusiastic about how much you mean for us."
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Prince Armor took up the thrust of her comments in vigorous, if nonverbal, agreement that set Harshwhinny’s whole body shaking and her biceps peaking against her poor, abused jacket’s fabric as she desperately tried to hang on to the desk and her last shreds of decorum. Ms. Harshwhinny grunted as the randy stud picked up the pace, his strong hands still caressing and squeezing her wide ass with a relaxed but inexorable focus on her firmness and his alike. He thrust in, all the way to the hilt, and slipped his hands around her hips.
Then, just as she thought he was about to break her, to somehow bump her off her pedestal of will with lewd crudities of mere sex, he huffed, laughing. “Gotta say you’ve helped meet my growth expectations,” he rumbled, his right hand moving up to stroke the mass of his shaft’s distention in her, from the broad flare and down the throbbing length. He grinned, pressing his muzzle against her neck as he nuzzled into her, smelling every twitch and flare of her helpless hormones’ arousal. He added a fondling massage for both his prick and her front as he continued, “And definitely Cady’s expectations for growth!”
More than Prince Armor’s overdeveloped dick stiffened in that moment and her forearms took up the bulge of muscular swell along with her upper arms. At least I can count on him to sabotage such aims for the moment. When did I ever think I’d be glad one of my ‘students’ was learning slowly? Still, if it was a ‘friendly’ struggle for control he wanted…
She twisted her head back and fixed him with a glaring stare that had his hands falling away from the distension of her womb and belly, growling, “Prince Armor if you please keep the prodding and over-exuberance to a minimum until we are finished?” It flustered Ms. Harshwhinny, even now. The Prince usually was quite willing to compromise in the press and give of his casualness, and she appreciated that his attempts at levity and familiarity were helpful in relief of tension-- as was specified in their contract with her, as a matter of fact-- but sometimes he just couldn’t seem to help pushing her further than was professional in such circumstances!
Chuckling, the Prince settled back to the routine grinding yet again, his hands shifting their hold to her hips, but then Cadance settled forward from her seat and gave Ms. Harshwhinny a tight hug about the shoulders. Her colossal quadruple Zs quite enveloped Ms. Harshwhinny’s usually stand-out H-cups in a soft but inimitably squishy embrace that pushed back to the secretary's arms.
“Shiny’s expanding appreciation and my hugs are the least of what somepony of your success and acumen deserve, Ms. Harshwhinny,” Princess Cadance said firmly then settled backwards. Her breathing was a bit hotter and heavier as she settled back to her seat, but Ms. Harshwhinny was able to keep her eyes fixed firmly on Cadance’s this time.
That being said, it was only with extreme effort that Ms. Harshwhinny stifled an unprofessional squeak, the compliment being matched by a punctuating tempo of Prince Armor’s thrusts, pleasure-pressing, mind-breakingly pleasurable grinds to match the firmness of Princess Cadance’s approbum. Her Highness' timing could be awkward, but it was so hard to hold it against her.
It was getting harder and harder, really, for Ms. Harshwhinny to hold herself aloof and aloft. She remembered saying something, hearing the Princess respond, and then not quite what it was. The Princess-- Twilight Sparkle, that was-- had been right, however. She suddenly saw things much clearer as the warm edge of delayed pleasure swamped through her amazonian limbs, fountaining up from her well-thrusted core. She needed a place to start, now, and went with safety. “My thanks, your highness. It's quite a professional pleasure to have such acknowledgement.”
As the almost sinfully lax sensation of yearning nigh-completeness shattered the stiffness in her spine, it also shattered the heaviest of the week’s aches and pain. Solutions! Ms. Harshwhinny kept her gaze locked on Cadance, and slowly spread her broadly muscled thighs for Prince Armor, inviting him further in. Her tail, she kept defiantly unflagged. She managed to keep her grin thin as she looked forward. “I think… You know, I think I have it. Didn’t one of the Fancy-Fleur Consortium subunits offer us a bargain on the finished modulators in exchange for sun crystal priority upgrades?”
The odd non-sequitur got a coughing, “What?” from Prince Armor, but Ms. Harshwhinny was dreamily pleased that the prince did manage professionalism in this: his fat cock didn’t miss a stroke in her tight cunt.
In response to Cadance’s murmur of further encouragement, Ms. Harshwhinny expanded, “The crystals respond to you and the Prince singing together. The sun crystals just need lower, more, longer, faster, ha-” She grunted put an arresting hand briefly on Prince Armor’s hips, and then squeezed her kegels down hard. His cries of distracted pleasure put another thin smile on her lips and she raised an eyebrow as she looked over at Cadance. “Not harder, pray excuse the slit. Slip!”
Ms. Harshwhinny was swiftly realizing that she’d have to finish her assessment quickly-- even her best efforts could only leave Prince Armor’s libido flaring up even more aggressively, and then burning furnace in her own core was beginning to leave her knees weak and trembling with need. “Given,” she grunted, squinting as a good pint of precum burst in her belly, “the effects you’ve already had, I can guarantee we’ll more than make up the loss in crystals dedicated to their projects to pay for it-- by double or more!” Panting, she balled her fists, stifling each little whimper of pleasure in turn as Cadance pondered her proposal..
“Yes,” Cadance finally said. Her smile widened, near-divine warmth shining forth from her dimples. “We’ll do it. The other nags will squeal and whine a bit more at the national security concerns, but we’ll do it.” Cadance beamed, and leaned forward to give Ms. Harshwhinny her royal seal of approval-- a soft, single kiss. It almost knocked Ms. Harshwhinny to the floor nonetheless, or more accurately, back into Prince Armor’s lap. Princess Cadance was huge. Not as tall as the Astral Sisters, nor as muscular, but she was still a good eight feet tall, with lush broadness and a tremendous bosom that shook, bra-less-- and how Ms. Harshwhinny envied that alicorn resistance to gravity-- in an almost hypnotic wobble as she settled back into her seat.
As the hauntingly brief taste of Cadance’s lips faded, Ms. Harshwhinny almost found herself trying to crawl over the desk and into the warm, well-muscled lap of her ruler, something she would not permit herself, no matter how much she wanted to cling to the Princess’ superbly curvaceous and excessively plush hips. Instead, to steady herself, she gripped the table and smiled thinly, holding herself with aplomb despite Prince Armor’s low, rumbling chuckle and lower, body-vibrating ruts.
Ms. Harshwhinny groaned again, shuddering with a seductive pleasure and only barely cutting it off to hold to some shreds of dignity. It would be so easy to let the Princess call her Whinny, to let the meeting just drift off into the unequaled Elysium of Shining Armor’s exquisite fucking. To break down the formality that she had developed along her life, the strict separation of work and play, the sublimating of enthusiasm to professionalism. Elysium knew that the Prince was battering that down, even when he offered to “go slow!”
How much greater the temptation, then, to rest her own tall, broad form against the pillowy softness of the Princess’ huge breasts, cradled in the loving warmth of the taller yet mare’s lap and to simply drink in her radiant compassion and personalized, friendly affection. This was her gift to her Princess, though, the fact that she held herself together and Got. The. Job. Done-- no matter the circumstances. For that, she told herself, her bountiful chest heaving as sweat dripped down into her cleavage, and that alone, separate had to be maintained, even if all else fell at the wayside!
Ms. Harshwhinny held onto that feeling of accomplishment and determination, knowing full well that this was a supremely absurd time for her to be fantasizing about her employer’s all-encompassing beauty and the desire to snuggle up therein! She chewed her inner lip and swallowed heavily. In an even more absurd act of defiance of the oddities of her profession and the nigh-perfect cock stretching her cunt, she adjusted her scarf, met her princess' eyes square on, and nodded crisply in gratitude.
"They may… indeed squeal,” she said, “but they can go twist if I just get those modulators to mining supply! And as always, I can guarantee… I can absolutely guarantee that I will find a way… to safely meet… demands!"
She stiffened up to as much of her full seven-foot-six frame could manage. It wasn’t easy-- especially while still hanging on to the reassuring anchor of her desk’s weight against Prince Armor’s pounding. Sweat continued to drip into her H-cup cleavage, her boisterous bust barely hid by one of her well-loved purple suit jacket/white shirt combinations, her necklace slipping deeper into the slickening wet embrace. She shifted her body slowly, tight control making her potent hyper muscles flex and tense up, and counted herself proud of her self control, her superior qualities, and her possession of the body and presence to meet her Princess’ eyes proudly as perhaps even a near-equal, as far as a mortal pony could.
Of course, right now, it helped that the princess was sitting comfortably across Ms. Harshwhinny's desk, whereas she herself was on her feet, offsetting some of Cadance’s dramatic stature and amazonian frame beneath jiggly curvature. The benefits of alicorndom aside, Ms. Harshwhinny did fancy herself as fit and cut as the princess, at least in form. It might be her pride speaking, but she also didn't think it was just Mi Amore's natural generosity of spirit that allowed her to regularly keep up with the princess in their weekly squash matches. If there was more muscle on the gorgeous Cadance, it was simply a matter of overall height, not build or effort. She found herself drifting again, remembering those matches, both of them in tight shorts and tighter shirts, moving and bouncing around the court in high competition...
"Whinny?"
The sound of her royal mistress’ concerned voice cut through the edging-granted bliss and Ms. Harshwhinny’s eyes snapped into focus, looking over at the soft smile and gentle gaze watching her. Well. Soft face and gentle features, that look and the way she was chewing her lip… No! growled Ms. Harshwhinny at herself. Her heart raced, and she brought herself fully back to the moment. Oh dear. Distracted again, that won't do. Neither would equivocation, of course. "I'm so sorry, your highness. Woolgathering. Shan't happen again."
"Not a problem at all, Whinny," Princess Cadance said with a rich, rolling laugh that sent her magnificent bosom-- Ms. Harshwhinny took a moment to mop the sweat from her blushing brow once more-- heaving and wobbling. Inches away from her face. Then, abruptly, Harshwhinny froze on the last dab, fingers pressing hard against her brow. Only her innate and instinctive sense of control had prevented her from dragging her handkerchief, and her hand over her employer and divine ruler's immensely gorgeous immensity of breastflesh, the giant teats almost filling up every available inch of space on Ms. Harshwhinny’s desk!. She slowly lowered her amazonian arm, but couldn’t seem to find a place to put the blasted rag away.
In fact, Hayley Harshwhinny-- Whinny to her friends and lovers, but only outside of normal office hours-- was abruptly aware that Cadance was looming over her, the lower of the alicorn's perfect, full lips sucked beneath her pearly teeth as she chewed lightly on it. That the grand, pillowy mounds of Cadance’s chest weren’t just pressing against hers, weren’t just nudging around the sides, but were looming above her like the cloud glacier at those fateful games.
She called me Whinny, she thought, and swallowed heavily, her own massive knockers wobbling in their too-tight confines-- both the tightness of her increasingly sweat-soaked jacket, and rapidly bobbing against the larger pair surrounding them. Surrounding her. And with that, a single thought remained from her harsh professional focus: Does that mean the slog is finally over with for the week?
To top it off, Whinny was deeply aware of a most unprofessional look in her Princess’ intense eyes. "What I said," Princess Cadance-- Cady, her friends knew, when she was undressing you with more than just her eyes-- repeated, "is that I call this meeting, and hence the work week, to a close."
Cady’s smile broadened as she bit down harder on her lip, and the salacious leer widened in her expression. "So it's time to give you your real contractual Shiny time, but my dear-- I hope you won't mind if I add an optional bonus to your clothing allotment, too."
Whinny swallowed heavily, then gave her boss and occasional lover a fierce smile and nod. She thrust out her hefty rack while shoving her proudly pumped ass back hard... right into Shiny, who turned from the gentle dicking and steady stream of precum he’d been feeding her since the meeting ended, and began to give her quite the rapid cock trot!
She'd stopped wearing panties years ago, when it became very clear that Prince Armor-- Shiny-- was quite dedicated to fulfilling (and overfilling) his contractual obligations to her. Namely, to "provide access to the Royal Consort and Captain-General's person to assist in such activities, both in the pursuit of primary duties and maintenance of the Secretary-Voice's person and personal needs." As long as she requested or consented, of course.
Ergo, aside from giving her the access she needed to do her job, Shiny needed to access her on a regular basis. Shiny leaned forward, taking shameless advantage of the six-inch gap in their heights to kiss his way over her muscular shoulders and nip at her earlobe, pulling Whinny into a squeal she couldn’t quite contain. “Meeting’s ended, Whinny,” he said cheerfully. “Ready to get your happy ending? Since you didn’t massage the numbers, I can massage you more now-- internally, I mean?”
“Shiny, please,” Whinny groaned, and not just from pleasure. “You’re lucky your dickwork exceeds your quipwork, or--” Whatever the or might have been was lost in the moment as he gave her another nip, this time against the back of her corded neck, igniting the sexual frustrations of the day and pushing her to lose the last feral remnants of the week’s stress in the release of the same. Cady just laughed, leaning back to admire the long bulge in Whinny’s belly, which more than strained her bunched skirt and tight shirt.
Shiny was through with holding off now. During the last fifteen minutes he’d caressed the bulge he was leaving in her mound, gently massaging there and under her raised pencil skirt, but now, with no need to moderate his pleasure, the skillful stud moved his fingers down to squeeze and fondle at her nub, his thick fingers somehow amazingly deft even though they were larger than some normal stallions’ cocks!
Whilst Whinny had been distracted by Shiny's abrupt increase in the tempo of his body-shaking thrusts, his heavy balls slapping against her broad, muscled thighs, and the beginning of his talented manipulation of her clit, Cadance had readied to make good on her promise to add a paid-for expense to Whinny's clothing allotment. Her big, yet dexterous hands grabbed the lapels of Whinny's purple jacket where they dipped to show off the smaller mare's jiggly, extensive cleavage, fingers curling around to grab the simple, but low-cut shirt beneath as well.
Cady had waited until Shiny had gotten Whinny well and truly wound up-- until the short, swift thrusts grinding on her G-spot and making her womb bulge with his throbbing, vein-covered shaft and his fingers were just starting to tease Whinny's rampantly stiff clit before she pulled with casual strength. In an eyeblink, Cadance shredded jacket and shirt alike to expose Whinny's big, bouncing, bra-held boobs, fat nipples poking stiffly through the lacy black fabric. Precum fountained inside of Whinny’s belly, not quite an orgasm, no mere quarter hour stud he. Nonetheless, she found it an invigorating reminder that Shiny loved watching Cady play with her. Perhaps nearly as much as Cady loved watching Shiny at work.
Whinny let out a long sigh as her voluminous breasts bounced free. It was strange; despite the lack of support, she didn’t feel like there was a drag on her powerful back. She felt free, the cool air on her bouncy boobs a sudden delight. With that, her fierceness switched gears. Interfere with her meetings, would he? Arrogant stud, to trifle with her professional pride and then just have her merely bouncing, indeed! She groaned, "Ahhhh, thank you, Cadance. One moment, please."
"Of course, Whinny. I'll just admire the show!" Cadance laughed and sat back, her hand slipping down into the intricate sash of her wispy not-quite-a-dress, as she prepared to enjoy the show indeed, until she could get back to her Whinny-fondling.
With that, Whinny braced herself on the desk with her left hand and slammed still yet harder back onto Shiny's turgid, pistoning cock and against the heavy-built stud's thighs and waist. She stamped one of her high-heeled boots, potent quads flexing beneath her garter-held fishnet stockings, twisted slightly to her side, and slapped a broad hand onto the seven-foot stallion's flat right hip. With his attention in hand, she growled. "Shining Armor! I have made it very clear, sir, over the past four years of service to the-- mmmmm!-- throne, that while I may be the Voice of Crystal, I am not made of it!”
She twisted her chiseled torso around on his oversized shaft, squeezing her thighs and inner walls together to clench, to virtually cinch his huge prick as hard as she could, adding a kegel-rippling flutter along the way. Turning her head back towards him, she was nearly as satisfied by the look of sudden ecstasy on his face as she was by the sudden rush of precum. Broad, bulky, and endowed as he was, she still held a half-foot of height on him, and the size differential couldn’t help but lend an air of gravitas to her air of righteous fury.
Meeting his gaze firmly, she smirked. There, she found the expected smug satisfaction in his eyes, and she told herself, Time to get really moving, you lazy creature. Still clenching, still smirking, she growled, “As per the terms of our contract, you horrid tease, I demand that you rut me until I can't see! It's been a long week!" With that, she turned back around swiftly and grabbed the table in anticipation.
"Glad to," rumbled Shiny. His deep, rich voice held an easy chuckle, and Whinny might have despised his fly-casual attitude were it not for two things: his absolute professionalism in matters to do with military, law enforcement, and his family on the one hand....and the fact that he was an absolute god in the sack on the other. The fact that he was also a gentle, caring stallion with rather decent self-control (most of the time) was simply a pleasant accentuation on an overall delightful package.
Much like the delightfully girthy and skillfully used package that was stretching her tight twat out right now, come to think of it. That said, he had been acting a trifle smug ever since he'd left the Yaks' new diplomat panting on the floor while the yak himself drooled about "Not Yak pounding, but perfect anyway." So, she felt it was her obligation-- as his wife's friend and personal assistant-- to keep him on his toes. She squeezed her hand harder on his hugely muscled thigh, and began to curve her thrusts over his super-sized shaft back with forceful twists, bearing down and clenching her hot sex over his driving rod. "You can pick it up, Shiny. Pull my hair or something, at least, for the love of your wife's tits!"
As Shiny laughed and reached up to bunch Whinny's short mane in his hand and tug with delightful precision between stimulation and pain, his other hand started an unasked for but certainly not unwelcome series of swats across her juicy rear.
Grinning, Cady murmured, "Speaking of tits, Whinny, let's have more of a look at yours…" She leaned across the desk and pressed her lips to Whinny's, fingers deftly undoing Whinny's forward-hooked bra, another concession to service with one monarch cum lover and friend who enjoyed groping her rack from behind, and another who adored kissing her while disrobing her.
Not that Cadance hadn't simply reached into the confines of Whinny's clothing, intact or dishabille, to undo the bra from behind in the early years. This was simply less awkward. As Whinny's perky knockers swung free, Cady invaded her mouth with her thick, talented tongue, while her equally talented hands kneaded and caressed Whinny's rapidly wobbling breasts.
Royal access was a wonderful thing, especially when those self-same royals took it upon themselves to make that access as pleasant as possible.
With Shiny's master cockmanship stroking into her G-spot and the lovely stern stud-play he was giving her harsh-cut mane and thick, taut rump, heat spread throughout Whinny, burning up from her core to invade her broad pecs and ripped biceps above and ignite tensing quads against her fishnets below. Coupled with Cady's fierce loving and gentle breast adoration, it didn't take long for Whinny to groan and squeal into her princess' mouth, her tongue fluttering wildly against Cady's. Whinny's cunt clenched and drenched repeatedly, leaving her face flushing bright red despite the lack of Shining examples of clit play. That didn't mean that her poor nub was abandoned, goodness no! What with Shiny occupied with breaking her amazonian body free of the week's stiff and unyielding duty, she felt almost welcomed in melting around his stiff and unyielding cock, releasing his toned hip and simply taking care of the matter herself.
One does not need to be a clitoral connoisseur like the good prince to tend to one's own little mare in the boat, after all,” she reflected, panting. Even if the lusty bastard keeps hinting I should seek assistance from the willing among my assigned contingent of Cadance's guard rather than masturbate if I need a quickie. It's an art form, sir! Whinny drew upon her pride again, fingers moving between her thighs and catching her clit as his pounding really took off. Although Cadance occupied her lips and Shiny bulged her pussy to distraction, she still managed a swift, stimulating circling that used the prince’s own thrusts to add just that little extra special bonus to each motion, feeding the rippling climax and driving it to greater heights.
As Whinny's orgasm continued, Shiny did… something. Even after years serving and being serviced by the royals she still didn't quite know the ins and outs of his in-and-out maneuvers. With just a subtle dip of his hips, he sent the veiny, throbbing skin of his oversized meat pressing into her deep, long curves. Whinny’s spine arched, pleasure washing over her as she felt him stretch her six pack out, his mighty prick rubbing against the clutching spasms from her gasping moans, his oversized balls slapping swifter against her thighs as his skilled hand swatted her taut tush. There, and there, and there again, each new invasion of his prick grinded over and against her stretched-out G-spot, her most secret and treasured folds plundered with a brutal gentleness that left her feet pressing hard onto curled toes, her short mane flicking back around the Prince’s tugging hold as sweat and fluids went pouring everywhere.
She supposed that while it took a pure-- and in some ways goofily innocent-- heart to be the Princess of Love's personal and permanent stud, superlative sexual skill as well as stamina and fitness probably helped. He’d been doing the equivalent of exercising his whole body, especially his hips, in constant, even strokes for fifteen minutes, and never missed a beat. He was even speeding up! She knew from experience that he could keep going, too, and drive her up into mind-blanking release for an hour and then pull out to do the same to his wife, as well, as though he were some strange earth pony-unicorn mix in form, drawing strength from the pleasure and the fucking. Whatever it was, when his knees bent thus and his hips then thrust, she suddenly felt like she had twice the cock giving her four times the love over the same super-sensitive inner folds, as though he somehow was managing to fuck her from many internal angles at once.
That, or he was showing off his ability to telekinetically manipulate a twat without a seeing spell, again, the silly, precocious fucker. He might laze occasionally but his amatory focus was rather forcefully aimed at unrelenting pleasure. She approved, even on those occasions when it wasn't her horny, wet core getting the perfect pounding.
Whinny looked up at Cadance's beatifically smiling face again. She tried to speak, to ask, to quip, to beg, to anything appropriate to the moment other than a series of lewder and lewder moans and grunts. To her somewhat carnally mitigated embarrassment, she simply couldn't find the control to even say her beloved princess' name. She couldn't even stop her tongue from lolling out the side of her muzzle, or keep her vision focused. The burning delight had spread up her neck to her face, and her eyes kept trying to roll back in her head or let her vision grow fogged and indistinct
"Shh, shh, there's my lovely Harsh," cooed Cadance. Her deft fingers tweaked Whinny's sensitive nips, then her thumbs came in to swiftly rotate them in time with Shiny's increasingly ardent bucking thrusts. The response in Whinny's tits was electric, like a second heartbeat pumping sexual ecstasy rather than blood. "Let it go, honey." Cady kissed Whinny's forehead, still flicking her nubs about with amazingly agile thumbs while her strong fingers massaged Whinny's lushly abundant titflesh. "Let it all go. You've kept our crystal cloud aloft another week, now let us take you flying. Let all the harsh go, lover. Give me that Whinny."
Not an unfair demand, honestly, were Hayley Harshwhinny's last coherent thoughts. Her long, undulating whinny cried out, caught and amplified by the crystal of her office. It reverberated around her various knickknacks, paraphernalia, and the perverted royals she lovingly serviced to her professional best. Her chiseled, muscular body clamped down on Shining Armor's oversized shaft without any further consideration or input from her. As her vision went slowly white, there was a bone deep, primitive-mare in not-quite heat sense of satisfaction as Shiny's deep voice joined hers, his climax met hers, and his cum blasted back up into her gushing cunt.
What little "Harsh" might remain in subconscious registered some slight embarrassment at the fact that her left arm had ripped her desk from its moorings to flip forward, again-- towards Cadance, who caught it and set it down on the floor in a smooth, easy motion. She wasn't quite sure why she kept doing that in moments of utter release. Honestly, though, it didn't really matter, as she fell forward, she took a similarly primal delight in feeling her usually harshly hard six-pack bloating out from Shiny's immense load.
Cadance caught her, Shiny fucked her, and the Empire was kept on schedule. It was a harsh, hyper life, and it was hers.