Victor's Spoils, Blueblood's Fate

by Troublesome Beast

First published

Years after his defeat and humiliation in the challenge ring by Celestia, Blueblood confronts the specter of his past. But he hasn't grown beyond it entirely, and Twilight forces him to admit the secret lusts of his present.

Since his humiliating defeat in the challenge ring years ago, the public has mostly lost sight of Prince Blueblood. That's the way he likes it; he has a moral debt to pay to society, and utter obedience owed to his mistress-trainers in private as they whip him into shape. Unfortunately, lately, sullenness and fear of the outside world has made him defiant and rude in-session and out.

But when one of the mightiest of his amazonian mistresses, Twilight Sparkle, rescues him from the loved ones of a past victim, she decides it's past time to put it back in his place. Deep down, he knows she's right; but far more, deep down, he knows he wants it.

Kink List:
Chapter 1: Femdom/malesub, amazon to mini-giantess, heavy humiliation, BDSM in general, hints of semi-voluntary chastity play, body worship.
Chapter 2: As per Chapter 1, but with spanking, voyeurism from the inside, SPH, chastity/restraint play and increased humiliation.
Chapter 3: As above, plus raising stakes, prostate play/cock milking, foot worshiping, and sounding by accident.
Epilogue: Outside voyeurism leading to role-reversal to maledom/femsub, rough consensual sex, consensual clothes destruction, hyper all the damn things

With permission from Megapone, this story presumes at least the majority of Down For the Count happened in-universe.

Chapter 1

View Online

The first thing that struck Blueblood were the breasts. Or rather, the side of one heavy H-cup with its force buoyed by the sway of its twin, knocking the undersized hyper stallion out of the way of the nine-foot mare’s path. He steadied himself and shook his head clear of the stun.

Not quite the same way as when you were living the high life, old colt, he told himself as he began to mutter hasty apologies and back towards the wall. Where he once might have thrown a fit or marked someone for back-alley reprisal, his inner horror at whom he had become and the depths he had sent himself to would not permit even a posh sneer now. Just evasion, and curling in upon himself.

Blueblood knew it didn’t help his public persona rise out of the gutters of rumors very much, but he cared substantially less than it helped. There were two thousand, four hundred, and forty-two ponies whose opinion of him wouldn’t rise if he turned into the Alicorn of Apologies; twelve who could only be consulted by necromancers; two from whom his mind shied; six…

And six, he told himself, that you’ve been breaking your promises to, again. The speech you gave Fluttershy was right out of the Blueblood Version One playbook, wasn’t it? Blueblood’s recriminations lost coherency as he tried and failed to duck out of the way of the heavy mound of breastflesh that followed him after the initial whap.

He couldn’t quite meet the mare’s eyes. Not just his personal sense of shame. No, this was quite literal. Indeed, given her near three foot height advantage and the fact that each of her imperiously thrust breasts closed on four times the mass of his head, it was hard to see anything as she pushed him almost into a kneeling position.

As Blueblood tried to make his way around the entrapping rack, he thought he had enough clues as to what was going on, and his stomach tensed. From the forced-casual set of her broad hips and the huge, tensed muscles of her potent arms, especially where her vast forearms bulged with the effort to not ball into fists, this had to be a relative, friend, or loved one of someone he’d harmed before.

He’d used his magic to burn the memories of the ones he had harmed into his psyche. The lecture that Princess Twilight had given to him after that debacle… Well, he told himself, At least you will remember

This mare wasn’t one of the ones he had harmed, either directly or by the use of his lawyers and less above-board factors. He’d shied away instinctively from most hyper mares in general, and he didn’t think he’d ever done more than make a pass at anyone over seven feet in height. He’d been stupid, not suicidal.

Still, there was something about the entrancingly warlike female’s scent, about the way she filled out her business suit, that was maddeningly familiar. Blueblood didn’t want to reminisce; didn’t want to know. He walked the servants’ access because the guards, at least, knew he had surrendered more than just in the ring to the Princesses. Knew that he was under their wings, and restrained by them.

Though thankfully, not how I’m restrained. His pants grew tight and he tried to focus on things other than the hammering tits as he tried to squirm away.

Only to be boxed in by another nine footer’s prodigious chest. The two mares were dressed in the corporate equivalent of a tattooed clanmare’s kilt and claymore. That is to say, exquisitely tailored suits and slacks with distinct enough visual style to be striking but enough complimentary and matching elements to show intersecting aesthetics. Close friends, briefcases with matching corporate blazons in hand.

Blueblood’s tenseness turned into a fist around his gut. This wasn’t the first set of mares to box him in, since it became clear that he was no longer capable of fiscally empowered vengeance. They usually stuck to words or snubs, though, given what they plainly considered the inexplicable protection that the Princesses still held him under.

Then the original mammary marcher spoke, and her voice was such a match for one of the twelve’s voice-- Sweet Canary’s-- that the fist opened. And Blueblood felt like his own guilt and shame would send him straight crashing to the ground. He froze, rounded softness over slowly improving musculature quivering slightly, then stopping.

Punishment, then. The two of them began comparing a male they’d shared, quite graphically, with former lovers. The analysis was interspersed with more professional talk of their positions at Lucre Industry Corporation, but the anger in both mares’ voices turned to mocking salaciousness almost at random between both topics.

Terrified and self-loathing alike, Blueblood froze. He would have remembered Sweet Canary’s voice and face even without the spell. She’d been the first to commit suicide under pressure from his lawyers and publicist. Not the last, once “old Blueblood” had gotten a taste for the power as well as the licentiousness. At the moment, he’d viewed it as triumph over a dragon.

In honesty, it had been a vicious character assassination of a mare who’d carried a foal of his to term that would have been oh so inconvenient. Money would have made her go away, but to acknowledge parentage into a line of Zebra alchemists that still feuded with Unicorn nobility had been an actual danger to his status within the Canterlot Crust.

Sweet Canary hadn’t had a lot of experience with males like Blueblood. She had trusted he’d do the right thing and had kept trying to find a “friendly solution” throughout the debacle. She’d just assumed he would post a parental bond and acknowledgement of extramarital inheritance until the very end, when his lawyers had moved for her juvenile record to be unsealed…

And had threatened to do the same for her older half-Equestrian sister. Almost certainly the same sister whose immense breasts were keeping him huddled against the wall along with a close friend’s.

Oh. I thought that fate had become less… pointedly direct with me. Blueblood kept his expression rigid and his eyes fixed on the floor. Of course, Sweet Canary’s sister would choose now. After all, he had broken his promises to go through the taming. Had stifled the ritual he’d chosen.


Given the large amount of very large entities that trafficked through Castle Canterlot, it was inevitable that the design incorporated not only the very strongest building material, but was enchanted to a fair-thee-well for durability. Nonetheless, some entities could cause the very floors to shake in their passage. Their Astral Highnesses Princesses Celestia and Luna, of course, but few others.

Among those few was the eight foot tall amazonian alicorn bouncing her way through the halls. Her mind on magic and mating alike, her enthusiastic power walking caused light tremors in whichever passage she took. The occasional hops, skips, and hip-checks that smacked the walls only accentuated the problem.

The profound jiggles this produced on the massive curves that complimented her titanic muscles did tend to make passers-by also forget about the shaking. No one really had the heart to ask her to stop, after all.

Horny, territorial, and needing despite an excellent session with Hopper, Twilight Sparkle made her way through Castle Canterlot. She was cheery, she’d admit, from said time with her coltfriend, but her hyper instincts were in high gear today. Honestly, her wings surprised her by not being stiff out or tensed to pounce. Maybe she’d finally gotten control of the darn things? She wasn’t entirely sure why she was feeling so boss-mare-meets-the-new-herd, anyway; the crowds of various other large species weren’t an unusual sight, after all!

Somehow, today, just seeing them there, all around, left her wanting to get pushy-- and to move to the more fun kind of results. As a result, on days like today, Twilight found it extremely useful that Celestia and Luna had forced her to learn to control her arousal. For reasons public and private alike.

She gritted her teeth again. Hooboy, she thought. Being with Hopper really is bringing out my aggression just a bit. Lovely, stimulating boy that he is. Drawing on her lessons from Cadance again, she re-focused from lust and aggression to love and fondness. She took a sort of calmness in remembering her last deep tissue massage session. It would make her a little sad to share him with any other than the Astrals, but, plus side, she'd get more Astral in her face! Good times.

The thought of extra time beneath Celestia and Luna's thighs had just finished soothing her when, her pendulous breasts swinging ahead of her turn, she rounded a turn and another minotaur guard delegation. She bulled through on personality and presence, and then she sighed a bit mentally as her ears picked up something she hadn't wanted to detect in a side passage. Amidst the other incoming sensory data, her nostrils scented semi-desperate stallion musk as well. Familiar semi-desperate stallion musk, and not in a fun way.

Instantly, Twilight's existing crankiness upped to "rather grumpy," even as she started to turn down into the staff passageways, past the guard with the appropriate inspection spells. Her own magic warned her of what was coming, and she’d have some words with the security coordinators. She told herself, At least if I have to deal with a supposed stallion by age who still is just a little colt in his behavior, I have a real stallion who'll be waiting for me tonight.

Even though he just graduated from colthood. She did, however, wish Blueblood had been keeping his appointments; she felt randy and hormonal enough right now she'd have to be careful with the poor little thing. He had volunteered for the rite and the submission, which gave her certain permissions to be aggressive, but she had to make sure she would never abuse that.

Twilight didn't really hold much animus against him any more, anyway. A twit he'd been, and insulted her friend; and ultimately, his behavior had entered into the unspeakable. That said, he'd paid the price in the arena, and while he'd been problematic since, he'd tried to do better. He failed occasionally, but he did try. She'd even become vaguely fond of him, in an ill-trained but well-meaning pet sort of way.

They were working on the training, too. More importantly, he had surrendered to Celestia willingly. Which meant his life and comfort were Celestia's to arrange-- and hers to protect.

Not, Twilight growled mentally, for two stupid office hyper mares who think that nine feet and a business suit give them the right to play with my boss mare's sub. She added a bit of stomp to her step. Nine feet tall with H-cup racks or not, big, muscled amazons or not, both mares immediately turned away from their target. The two jumped up broodies had been using their klutzy tits to block Blueblood from moving without crawling beneath their racks or legs. They'd even been pretending to ignore him while rather graphically talking about the packages and rumps of the strippers they had supposedly been watching the night before.

She did not approve of this nonsense. Her lips curled back into a fierce sneer that might have been ridiculous on her younger body. Now, with her body toned and trained from a decade of protecting Equestria and making friends with all who would take her hand, it was a warning. Do not fuck with Friendship.

For all that both mares were taller than Twilight, neither were as broad in the shoulder, nor as heavily built as she. Twilight's body had been reforged for war between the gods, or between the gods and titans. Earth ponies too, she thought as she glared wordlessly at both women. Both of them. Should have realized my disapproval was for them by now!

For a moment, she debated openly naming Blueblood her ward, which had the virtue of being true. Doing so now, though, would mean that the stupid overblown wimps would have to face her in the ring, however. For all the part of her blood-loyal to Celestia conspired with the part of her that was very protective of her friends, she settled, barely, on just chewing them out.

Struck by the fury of her gaze, illuminated by her mane bursting into empyrean flames, both mares went down on both knees immediately. Her wings snapped out behind her, flexing lightly in time with the crackle of fire around her horn. Behind them, better taught and knowing this fire burned on his behalf, Blueblood dipped one knee forward and carefully bent his soft, yet much improved body at the waist. Looking at the pair and noting the upset, pouting lack of comprehension, she decided for blunt language.

The arena was… unfriendly. At least, the public one. There would be no walking back from it for them, and she'd gain responsibility for them, as a result. Twilight did like taming a tall one occasionally, but neither of these two twats were worthy of eating her out, anyway. And even that vague confirmation would embarrass Blueblood all the worse. Especially if it was connected to the (admittedly true) rumors about what had happened to his private life and why he had abruptly stopped wasting his budget on cheap hookers and not-so-cheap parties. That, she judged, would not be as her beloved teacher desired things; more importantly, it would hurt a friend.

Even if she felt nearly as pissed off at him right now as she was at the mares.

"Ladies," Twilight said, narrowing her eyes. "While I am aware of some of the disadvantages of having tits that block off significant percentages of your default visual sphere, I am not particularly willing to believe that you didn't notice a pony there, waiting like quite the little gentlecolt, for you to move so he could be about his business.” A din of protests stirred her to raise a hand to cut off the pair's babble.

Evidently, the twits were shocked by her defending "that rake." Or calling him a “good pony.” As though she hadn't stepped up to the plate for worse ponies before.

"I don't give a gram of manure what you thought you were doing or why. Or what might have happened in the past. Prince Blueblood is a good little pony of late, and dear to his Aunt," she repeated. It happened to be true in more ways than one these days , but these twats didn't need to know that. "You have been amazingly disrespectful to him, and by extension, Princess Celestia." Twilight hefted her gigantic U-cups in her broad hands, some of the succulent flesh drooping around and between her fingers. "Challenges, not excuses, do you understand?"

As the mares babbled their apologies-- no one could be dumb enough to think that she had more than the lightest sense of humor about the diarch to whom she dedicated her heart and soul-- she let her tits drop and bounce. The heavy rack jiggled like an avalanche somehow in abeyance. She let some of the tension ride out with it, and focused on making sure that further nonsense of this sort was not likely to recur. Her horn glowed for a moment of concentration, then went quiescent once more.

Nostrils flaring, Twilight exhaled and said, "Ladies, this is pretty simple. I don't know your names. I don't want to; you've failed one of the basic tests of friendship. You don't want me to know either, since you've pissed me off muscling around back here. What you're going to do is give Blue your business cards, and Blue--" she suddenly turned towards the half-kneeling prince, who nodded his head, "You -will- report to me by the end of the week the charity to which they've decided to shell out a hundred K each." Blueblood nodded; the mares didn't dare protest.

Twilight jerked her muzzle towards the tunnel behind her. "I don't know why you're back here, anyway. But regardless of how, you're not allowed back. I have your herd signatures, and the guards won't be able to let you past the wards any more. Now get out!"

She minorly regretted the outburst; the frightened hyper mares literally crawled on their hands and knees past her. She hadn't wanted to humiliate them, but felt fairly certain they'd be back up soon enough. Pushing their minds around more, even to reawaken their pride wouldn't be healthy. Honestly, she felt more pity for Blue; the little mini-hyper would be paying a bit more for his avoidance of the Schedule than she'd originally planned.

But there had been an agreement. His behavior risked himself, and the last time they'd had to take him in for correction… Loyalty hadn’t been kind, and Dashie had only managed to restrain herself from vomiting at her Element’s rage until after the punished male had left that night, contained.

Blueblood made as though to rise and leave, but sighed when she fixed him with a glare. "I appreciate your intervention, your highness," he said in the soft, diffident voice he'd affected for the past few years. Their retraining had been good for him; he'd gone from occasional rapist and constantly abusive rake to being quite well thought-of in some circles.

Is it possible to make up for a life like that? Twilight wondered. Celestia had said that the rite Blueblood chose, harsh as it was, would help both to retrain him, and to make karmic amends for the awfulness he’d been steeped in. Of course, in some cases, only Fluttershy would know if it really worked.

And he’d been a little jerkbutt to Fluttershy, too. That said, at least publically, he’d become quite the redemption poster boy in public.

Which only made the two hyper mares' actions more unforgivably stupid. He'd become quite the leading expert on charities and helping to map into and explore the still-majority-wild regions of Equestria, as it happened. Though after a few of his longer term adjustments, he’d been restricted for very immediate reasons to trips of only a few days. Unless the site was near one of her Elements, of course.

But he’s been squirming out of things again so much he’s endangered his health more than if he’d gone to Germaney for a year! She pinned her fists against the proud vastness of her hips, and tapped her foot as she examined Blue.


Blueblood controlled his face nearly as tightly as other restraints worked below. By sheer force of will, he prevented the wince his growing arousal at being under the protective and wrathful gaze of Twilight Sparkle was causing. I could ask her… no. No, it’s all gone wrong. I just need to get away.

But he couldn’t move. Those fierce lavender eyes held him fast, on the one hand worried for him, on the other hand infuriated by his actions. Again.

Twilight just kept staring at him. The "tiny" hyper unicorn, a mere six foot six, swallowed heavily. "Your highness," he repeated, "I … know I may not have been, exactly following my part of the agreement."

"Don't," she ordered, and Blueblood bowed his head, silent. "I know what you told Fluttershy when she inquired after your health." She snorted and nodded when Blueblood closed his eyes in shame. She didn’t have to say it out loud, but he knew by the tone of her voice she was close to putting him and his rite completely in Mistress Luna’s hands.

In the hands of one of the two goddess-dominants who had the most contempt for him, and the least belief in his ability to manage his own affairs. He wondered if he deserved that harsh, blue hand; he hadn’t done so well, had he?

All Twilight said was, "Unless you wish to discuss our terms and the consequence for breaking them out here," and her voice lowered to a whisper, "Where ponies can travel by and hear our discussion, you will wait until you feel them cross the wards, and you will head into the linen closet down the hall. I'll follow; no one else will dare."

His face fell, but he swallowed heavily and nodded his acquiescence. Part of him continued to scream that he should just run. Flee. He had the right to refuse. Part of him wanted desperately to have guidance again, to help him out of his profound failure of late.

Far too much of him simply yearned to do whatever Mistress Twilight wished. However she wished it, rite or no rite. Two to one, old colt, he told himself, and scurried towards the closet.


Twilight watched Blue wriggle away, the handsome, if soft, little stallion squirming in a way that talked to a deeply lustful and hyper part of her pussy. But her heart and her mind were in control; she tended to him, tended to all her friends how they needed. The idea of humiliating a friend in public revolted her, and she restrained the urge to pounce her sub then and there.

She just rose and leaned against the wall. It looked like she would need to be a bit informally late to her beloved Princess, not tardy, thankfully. That said, she'd have more to report to Celestia. More to report, she thought. Something clicked internally and the horny parts suddenly suggested, And pictures to tease and taunt Hopper with...

Twilight had never invoked that part of the contract before. The private display punishment clauses… Mm, clauses. Of course, she'd never had a dom-happy coltfriend before, and Blue had been doing so much better until the last few months. He hadn't been eligible the last time.

Shortly thereafter, Blueblood clutched his dimensionally folded tote bag and left. She was glad to see he obeyed the safety rules, at least. As much as she preferred her hardbody studs and bitchmares, she did appreciate the view of the jiggly little wimp as she watched him go. She wouldn’t be sad to see him keep getting back in shape, too; it was healthier for him. She had charts, showing both upticks and plateaus!

The last few years have been good for him, she thought. We haven't let him keep the potbelly, just some cute little plush, and without as much reason or opportunity to indulge, he's gotten a little form back. A bit cushy for a hyper, but for a second or third status stallion-- or a stallion with an understanding lead wife-- he'd do ok, especially since Dove has been properly rehabilitated, too.

A sudden notion made Twilight wince. She really hoped that his intransigence hadn't caused Dove trouble, not with Rarity's spell on her. That had forced rehabilitation quite quickly, after all.

Speaking of Rarity, she thought, he's going to need to see her next. He's getting a bit shabby, and probably unfashionable in the wardrobe, and that was why the rumors started last time. The suit was a sedate cream, but it was showing signs of wear. The pants were loose over Blueblood's soft, rounded rump.

They had to have give around the rear and groin, of course. But custom tailoring came as easy as breathing to the Alicorn of Nobility. And she was willing to keep them up as her part of the rite. Indeed, Rarity's share of the ritual judgments had been that Blueblood would maintain certain standards for membership, if bottom-run, the royal herd.

A twitch in Blue’s well-groomed tail distracted Twilight’s hyper side from thoughts of her herd-sisters. The deep drives pushed an emotional growl over her alicornic kindness and she glared at his departing rump. Standards he isn't meeting by avoiding all of us. I'm going to be a bit rough on him, so I'll make her be gentle, she decided.

She stalked after him after waiting long enough to make sure no one followed. With a carefully subtle check and move, she quietly opened the door into the linen closet. She let her temper and lust play out in her body language.

Tense muscles bulged dangerously under her tight jeans; her ‘ceps put on a show beneath her hide as she seemed to push out in all directions with her full potency as an alicorn battlemare. As she'd intended, after she closed the door completely, Blueblood was forced back against the wall. In the tight environs, there was only a bare few inches between his strained face and her enormous, wobbling rack.

Horniness flickered through Twilight's body as she looked down at him. The sight made her lick her lips in anticipation. Here was her lawful prey, yet rebellious submissive. Kept tight against the wall by her bubble of imposing personality and interposing rack, his hands clutching onto bag. Small, barely muscled arms trembled almost as much as the juicy, enormous melons bobbing in front of his face. The dim light of the scant crystals flickered almost like old-style candles, and she thought it made him look almost as shifty as at his lowest, most conniving point.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and hornbase as he kept looking around, as though to try and find a way past her mammoth melons and mighty arms. She frowned. It looked like Blueblood still wanted to squirm, and she wasn't in the mood for that.


Blueblood fought the urge to wriggle his rear with the impetus to-- escape? Anticipate? He wasn’t sure. I could end this, he thought desperately. Right now. All I need to do is call on Clause 1, I…

A casual ripple of mighty muscularity rippled through the towering princess. She’s angry, he thought before his mind went blank of anything except how gorgeous the amazonian dominatrix standing over him was. The potent swells of hard tissue, the plush softness of her immense curves, those sparkling eyes… All of Twilight Sparkle seemed to be conspiring to reduce Blue to drooling all over himself.

The only thing that saved him from falling on his knees and begging then and there was the tight constriction of his locks. He began to double forward, then realized that would smack his head into her breasts, uninvited. The smaller hyper froze, eyes tracking Twilight as he started to wriggle, will he or nil he.

I asked for this, Blue remembered. When the money ran out and they ground my face in what I did. I wanted to be reborn. No-- remade. And I chose to belong to them, not as a stallion to a herd, but a plaything to their will. To Mistress Sun’s, most of all, and this is her enforcer.

Oddly, the thought was reassuring. Oh, Twilight Sparkle had certainly enforced his position within the rite more than any; Luna and Rarity didn’t trust themselves with more than light doses. But he knew she would help him. She never gave up on anyone.

Unless… Unless I pushed things too far? His eyes widened, his breath deepening. The contraction of the chest which had slowly been strengthened under Rainbow Dash’s stern training began to shudder. He didn’t know if he wanted to return to the usual grind beneath her heel, or if he wanted… more.


“Definitely feeling like you can squirm out of this again, Blue?” Twilight nickered, frowning at him. He could, of course. She-- the herd, really-- was obligated to test him, push him and train him back up from who he had once been. But if he did, she was done with this. With the rite. He’d have to face justice directly. So she waited, her tail tensing and her wings flexing.

Mind you, Twilight did enjoy good squirming in a plaything, but the terms of his contract prohibited her from using him to get herself off without his offering first. Even if he decided to try to negotiate, she was in no mood to lighten his punishment in exchange for a tonguejob. Despite how good he'd gotten from multiple trips between dominant mares' thighs; he did seem to belong on his knees with his face in pussy.

So she turned slightly, forcing him to squish up against the wall. She bracketed him, one of her magnificently rippling, giant arms resting slightly against the wall to his left. Completing the bracket, her jiggly mega tit ground up against the wall just past him. She made her intent quite clear with every motion of her amazonian body. Both her powerful limb and eager breast brushed up against him as she locked the door and cast a sound proofing ward.

As Twilight prepared to cast the sealing ward, he cleared his throat peremptorily. The flare of arrogance earned him an irritated glare and somewhat less care when she whipped back around to stare at him. As a result, her huge boob smacked into him with a loud crack. The unrelenting U-cups lifted him completely up off his feet and bounced the mini-hyper princeling against the rear wall.

Blueblood had something of a hyper's toughness, and they'd been forcing him to at least gym joint broodie levels of activity. Nonetheless, he slid down onto his tush with a loud yelp, and her stormy facial expression lightened just a bit at his helplessness. She sighed, shook her head, and said, "You’re pushing the terms of the rite again, Blueblood. You've been missing your appointments with my girls.”

Shiftiness flickered across his face, and some of her goodwill evaporated. That said, she'd gained a feeling for his neediness for sternness and external control as a sub-- as a pony, period. She felt a bit guilty about the trappings, but after all, he'd been the one to beg to be "forced" to be a good pony.

So it was time. Twilight’s eyes narrowed. "Blue,” she told him, “Don't even start. Don't deny any of it; we need to get started, now." she told him. As she pounced verbally, she placed one of her huge feet on his groin. Even now, she took care of him, carefully placing her bootheel on the stone floor to take most of her weight. She didn't want to harm him or what he'd sold to Celestia; just to get his full attention. As the smaller hyper squirmed, his horn flicking and flaring with half-cast spells, she sternly she pressed forward against the trouser-hidden secret of their success in taming his urges and tantrums. She made sure he felt it, though. Made sure to remind him that he'd chosen to be tamed.

Blueblood swallowed, and grabbed ineffectually at her big size twenty-two-and-a-half foot. "I… I have the right to decide to skip an appointment!" he protested. "You… I… I don't want…" he whined at her-- but didn’t complete the statement. He left it hanging, but couldn’t seem to deny her claim.

Nor deny his desire to be taken once again. She ignored the not-quite-protests, simply raising an eyebrow as he strained and sweated, trying hard to move her pinning shoe. She contemplated pressing forward more, but decided that pushing verbally would have better results.

Her gaze traveled up and down over his body with cold assessment. "You have the right to skip appointments, true," she allowed. The little unicorn’s body seemed to deflate, other than the tightness against her shoe. There was real fear in his eyes now-- not fear that Twilight would dominate him, however.

No; he was tensing like a rabbit beneath a wolf with fear that she might not. It left her grumbling mentally. He's protesting, and his shoulders are slumping because I might just let him slack more. How is that fair? She cut that misperception off with more sharpness than she might have if he weren't still playing stupid games this far into his ritual servitude. "Of course, I have the right to tell your aunt-- your mistress-- that you're making it impossible for me and mine to take care of you, Blueblood. Again. That you've violated your terms of submission. That you've violated your oath to protect yourself. Again!"

Twilight growled and he shuddered with more fear than pleasure. Good, she thought, though she felt guilty again. He's been a jerk. Gruffly, she spelled it out for him, saying, "Last time, it was Luna's punishment. Do you really want to find out what happens when your mistress has to handle you personally, Blue? Do you really think you're a tough enough sub to have a personal session with Mistress Sun? One on one?”

Blueblood swallowed heavily. Luna hadn't been pleased with him in the first place. She'd been substantially less than pleased to find out that Blueblood had been a major embarrassment to the Houses Alicorn and Platinum, nor that he had been racking up debts, regardless of whether or not the Houses would be paying for them. When word had reached her that he had then been considering chopping up part of Princess Platinum's original estate, she had been livid. She and Platinum had, after all, argued and become friends afterwards. That was how Luna thought things should be done between mares-- some form of fight and then boon companions.

Stallions who couldn't keep their gifts in their pants infuriated Luna. Or rather, as Celestia had proved when he had challenged her finance minister over a cap on his wastrelry, overgrown colts who thought themselves stallions made her angry. Twilight did have to admit that Luna was slowly coming 'round on tolerating stallions most of the time.

With Blueblood? She was so angry she had personally told him that his plans were going nowhere-- then ignored his tremulous attempts to force the matter with her. The Warmistress of Equestria was utterly unwilling to permit him him to challenge her in the ring, having no wish to see if he'd manage to provoke her into a more lethal duel. Nor, however, was she willing to permit him to cut up the Platinum Range. She'd had the law on her side, too; Platinum Range was his Ancestral Domain, and tied to the continued grant of Platinum's title to the line.

Now, usually, Celestia waived the law that said that if the Ancestral Domain slipped from the House, so did the title. She didn't want to discourage Houses from trying investment ventures or the like, after all. Often, the High Princess found reasons to be Generous with nobles who tried honorably and failed, attaching titles to new seats.

Luna had convinced Celestia to refuse to waive the requirement. It had left the spluttering colt at the point where he might have been sent into fiduciary management until his bills were paid. However, his persistent attempts to get Luna, Celestia, or even Twilight herself to punish him in the ring again had been suggestive that he might prefer a more private option. With less legally mandated records.

Oh, and because it was Celestia's ruling, he also could have simply sold off the majority of his lands and lost his title. "But you didn't want to lose your title, did you, Blue?" Twilight told him, not caring if he followed her thoughts or not. If he was sick or injured, it would be her fault-- she was looking after him for Celestia!-- and she'd accepted him as her sub, too. "You didn't want to become just plain 'Blueblood,' no fourteenth, no social prominence."

And so Blueblood came to them. To the royal bachelorette herd; not just her Elementals, but to plead his case before the entire herd. He'd been under Applejack's most potent Honesty that night, make no mistake. He had freely bound himself; had sworn an oath to be theirs, in exchange for upkeep and training.

They broke him of most of his bad habits. In some cases, only after he violated his oath, and the Loyalty components had punished him for it. Loyalty hadn't chosen the form until the last, but it had forced him to seek longer term, more invasive means of correction. Means that could only be broken if he really found Harmony in his heart, or if he joined another herd. They had no intention of letting him do so without making sure he'd both behave and be well tended.

Twilight watched him wince at the reminder, and began to gently rub his crotch with her massive tennis shoe, teasing over the contractual holder. "You didn't want to be that barbarian any more, Blueblood. But you felt you couldn't stop. What was the word those jumped-up, oversized broodies used? Rake? Only because by the time you got bad, only those who wanted rough trade would do you for any amount of money."

Color drained from Blue's face, and he whispered, "I haven't gone back to…"

"If you did," she growled, "You'd be feeling Loyalty's lash as an oathbreaker. Three times, Blue! Another unclaimed child fostering with Cadance, a smearjob for a mother, and then when your temper snapped…" The toe of her shoe tapped hard on a certain spot in his crotch. The metal beneath clinked, and he groaned, tongue lolling out and his body tensing. He must be really over the limit, by his reactions.

After a few moments, with no reaction, Twilight folded her amazonian arms under the tremendous roll of her chest. She grunted, forcing her anger back under control, and said, "Your temper snapped, and Loyalty snapped back. The geas wouldn't permit anything less than a total bind. And that means draining you, Blue! There's only so much the magic can do for you-- you know that. And I don't know if the oath would let us heal you from self-inflicted dissolution."

There were no protests. Blueblood shook his head, but she judged that was at himself, not at her words. She sighed and added, "That'd be bad enough. But it would hurt Celestia if you did damage yourself further. You know she thought the arena and your submission punishment enough. She grieved for you when you crossed the line again-- and again, and again! She had me and the girls watch you, and when Dove tried to rob you and run, Rarity bound her to your health-- you damn well better not have endangered her life too…"

"I haven't," he said hastily, his eyes wide as Twilight started to press harder against his shuddering groin with her heavy shoe. "I… I promise, on the final lock!"

Unimpressed, she grunted again. "I didn't ask you," she said gruffly, but nodded. "Good. So you haven't gone all the way back down,": she said with a sigh. "And perhaps more importantly, Celestia gave you a safeword to use," she noted, and smiled a bit as Blueblood's jowls blushed red. He was such a cute little squishy thing when he wasn't trying to be tough. She just wanted to tie him up and tit-smother him until he got over his snit! Nonetheless…

Twilight scooted her foot around and under him, rather than over, and she warningly prodded his plump ass, nodding at the fallen tote bag. As he scrambled to his feet, clutching the bag, she said simply, "And while you haven't dropped trou like you're supposed to, you haven't said 'Fancypants' yet, either."

Making up her mind, she glared. "You have two options, Blue. You can call 'Fancypants,' walk out the door and deal with Celestia and Luna tonight, or you can stay, get naked below the waist like a good overgrown colt, and let me seal the room. No, you won't be getting real sex with me. I'm not going to let you worship my pussy when you're like this. Not when I'm this angry. Pick, because you won't like it if I have to do so." Mostly because I absolutely will dump this in Luna's lap. I'm busy with an actual stallion to play with, thanks, was her silent addition.

Blueblood hastily knelt down and began to undo his business shoes. She sighed, tension leaving her rugged shoulders as her anger fled. Her horn briefly blazed with light in the dark room, her magic spinning around the edges.

Safety and privacy ensured, Twilight looked him over, contemplating her own actions as much as his. The room was warded. No one outside would be able to look in. She loomed over the once-proud prince, silent as she considered him.

Mostly, she felt that Blueblood was managing to pull himself together with laudable quickness. She did make a critical whinny when he made to just toss his socks aside. That wouldn't do.

Remembering Twilight's compulsive neatness and the paddling his sensitive rump had earned from past sloppiness, he whimpered lightly. But again, he snapped back to the correct path instantly. WIth another swallow, he very, very carefully folded his socks to put in the shoes, the shoes neatly in the corner, and when he rapidly shimmied out of his pants, folded those up carefully, too. Closing his eyes, he made ready for the final step, and stuck his thumbs in the waistline of his very, very stuffed looking boxers.

Pity struck her heart. I wish I knew how to just tame him properly, she thought. It's a failure of Harmony; I just don't know what's wrong with him. But...

"Wait," Twilight said quietly, and gave him a wan smile. He swallowed, still trembling under her gaze, softened or no. She sighed again and nodded at him. "Just… leave them on for a moment and take off your jacket, please?"

Blueblood blinked. She could read the lack of confidence in his face. Not even Fluttershy generally told him 'please' anything or moved out of the usual checklist. Let alone me, she acknowledged, Twilight Sparkle, the checklist general. Not in years. "Ah… mistress…" he said, swallowing heavily and keeping his eyes planted on her shoes.

Softly, she said, "It's not mistress until you drop the boxers, Blue, that's the point. I'm a bit mad at you, and I want you to feel safe going into this. Trust me, please-- take off the jacket, leave your boxers on, and come over here.: She sat down with her back to the door, and patted a meaty, musclebound thigh.

There was no shiftness this time. He merely swallowed, took off his jacket, folded it up neatly, and put it on one of the shelves. Even sitting down, Twilight was immense by comparison. She didn't have to do much more than lift her gaze lightly to meet his eyes.

As she expected, she could easily see how nervous Blueblood was as he came closer. His horn bobbed and his pupils dilated. She gave him a sad smile, and held out her arms to him. Trembling, he took the offer. With a soft exhalation, sank into the impossibly muscled embrace of Twilight Sparkle, and she swept him off his feet like an oversized doll.

Twilight cradled the trembling Blueblood to one of her heavy U-cups silently for a few seconds. Then she sat him down with his legs beneath it, lying them across her treetrunk thighs. She carefully unbuttoned his top four shirt buttons, then his cuffs, as he stared up at her. She didn't speak yet, just gently caressed his short muzzle, and smiled a bit. In the arena, you learned that you're just a little colt, she thought, Learned it when she tamed your cock to her pussy, and you learned to be obedient to your mares when she tamed your cock and your hands to just her muscles' flex. What do I need to do to teach you to rely on us, little colt? To lean on our strength?

Blueblood swallowed as the silence dragged on, and she smiled. "So adorable, if so weak, my little Blue," she said softly. A tentative smile finally crossed his face; something of the handsomeness just clicked for once. She just couldn't help herself, and rubbed his just slightly fat little tummy through his thin shirt and undershirt.

Her hand was gentle, caressing the slight chub. Nothing like the potbelly he'd been developing before they took him in. As he squirmed about half-embarrassed, half-soothed by the giant hand's manipulations, Twilight giggled, oddly fillyish given her status as third mightiest mare behind Luna and Blueblood's perpetual wet nightmare of Celestia only. She tilted him back up against and over the mountain of her breast again, and kissed the top of his forehead. Dutifully, she stayed away from the hornbase

Crooning softly to Blueblood, the giant, dominant mare pulled her wings carefully from behind the door. In a gentle sweep, she wrapped them about the little male in her lap, who might be tall in any non-hyper company. As her wings sheltered her panting sub against her, she whispered, "That's alright, little toy. Cling on. I think I understand now. You don't really think you're a true, free stallion again, do you?"

The blush was adorable. It was possible her sweetiestud was biasing her towards redfaced males, but this was a different sort of blush, she thought. Less self-restraint, about the same amount of embarrassment, but more deference. Twilight cooed softly at him, and the once-arrogant prince abruptly clung to her gigantic breast. His trembling arms squeezed as tight as he could-- she barely felt it.

He couldn't manage much, not like her sweetly aggressive Hopper. Instead, Blueblood was almost like a drowning pony, clinging to her pillowy tit like a life preserver. "That's it, honey," she nickered at him, and smoothed his mane down. "You've just gotten a little scared and lonely, since all Dove does is take care of your cleanliness. A bit frightened of us to offer yourself to us, I think."

Twilight gave him a tender tap on the top of his head, to the right of his horn this time. The fear and resentment that held him to his pride evaporated, and he started to tremble and weep against her huge rack. Not denying her words but unable to answer her, either. With a shake of her head, Twilight sighed, and stroked his blond mane.

A gentle squeeze on the submissive male's rump made him groan and shift his hips, and she chuckled softly. Speaking gently, she told him, "You've come a long way, Blue. You're never going to be a stallion again, sweetie. Not a real, free one. A broodstallion; I imagine the title's been worn before in private."

Hanging his head against her mammoth melon, Blueblood mumbled his acquiescence. She stroked a strong finger against his loose boxers, pressing against the overfull bulge again. Her huge hand closed around his nutsack and the bindings on it. She waited until he met her eyes and told him sternly, "These balls belong to Celestia now, and whoever she chooses to delegate. So no dating for you; you might be tempted."

Twilight hugged him through his next crying jag. "But I'll see about getting your loneliness needs taken care of," she told him tenderly, then tapped his nose. "Come to us, baby Blue. I promise you, kneel like a good colt, and we'll make sure you get off as well as we do." Her face turned to a thunderous frown. "And you don't have to kneel, if you're threatened. Come before us; you have claim on us, too, and we will protect you." Those aren't the first stupid cunts to mess with you, are they, Blue?"

Her frown didn't seem to frighten him this time. Indeed, his whimpering stopped, and, if hesitantly, he was able to explain the matter. Blueblood admitted that relatives of some of the women he'd been… unwisely rude to, or to whom he'd humiliated via lawyers in battles over foal care, and other such provisos, had come forth to start intimidating him since he had withdrawn from the party life. They'd sensed weakness, an outcast in the herd.

They thought wrong, she thought fiercely. Twilight growled and hugged him tight. Yes, we'll take care of your needs, little colt. I'll get Celestia to marry you off to some nice, understanding mare who has some of the true traditionalist honor, someone who will understand Dove. I wish Rarity hadn't been quite so pissed when tying your destinies together-- I still can't figure out how to unknot it. And I'm going to find out who's been taking advantage of our little colt and explain very thoroughly who exactly are the only mares-- the only people, period-- allowed to do that.

Dove had learned that lesson. The little Prench wimp had tried to steal from Blueblood and blackmail him when she found out why he'd stopped being so rough with her during sex. And why his allowance for indulging her had been cut off.

She'd have been wiser to just leave, call it a bad job and split. Worst of all, save perhaps Pinkie's humor, it had been Rarity who found her out. Rarity, who took the role of dominant provider almost as seriously as Celestia and Luna, had descended on her with full wrath. The spell she had used had been full of terror for one who spurned Generosity and indeed every measure of Harmony.

Rarity had claimed, even when interviewed by the Astrals, that it had been done on pure instinct. Twilight did not think experimenting with the threads of their lives and fates would do them any good, and the Rainbow Power wouldn't summon for them. Either not bad enough, or the punishment was viewed as fitting by the Rainbow of Light.

From that moment on, Dove knew that any threats to Blueblood's health would happen to her threefold. Not spankings and other discipline that the alicorns gave him for being a naughty little herd slut, but illness or true damage. She had been given the option between anonymous service in the border guard or becoming his live-in nurse and personal groomer.

Twilight hadn't seen what Celestia had done to Blue and Dove after Rarity had linked them, and wasn't sure she really wanted to know what her mentor and lover was capable of when that angry herself. But these days, Dove doted on Blueblood, but simply didn't have the strength of mind to manage him and keep him from backsliding. Now, others would have to learn lesser versions of her lesson. She mentally noted to order Rarity not to get involved or interfere. She figured she'd set Pinkie on them, and Harmony help their souls.

But. Handling Blueblood was the problem now. She didn't want him to feel like pouting and sulking like a diaper-wearing foal was an option. He may have lost the right to be called a stallion, but even an adult colt needed some standards. Now he knows I care, Twilight thought, and her hyper drive to dominate quickened in her belly. Now it's time to remind him why he should be run to us for aid, and not worry us with this foalishness.

Lifting him up under one arm and carrying him with her with a dismissive casualness, Twilight stood to her feet. Once up, she unwrapped her wings from around him and stood him back on his feet. Face stern, she nodded, reaching into one of her pockets for a handkerchief to dry his cheeks. "It's time, Blueblood," she said bluntly, and a very horny part of her reveled in how he swallowed and nodded, hunching in on himself. "You've earned what you've got coming, haven't you?"

"I have, mistress," Blueblood said softly. The boxers were still on, but.

"So today, we have a caution safeword," Twilight told him. "You're to say 'hooker' if you actually feel flat out panicked, rather than just chastened." She frowned. "I will know if you misuse it, and you'll lose the privilege."

"Yes, mistress. 'Hooker' is my caution safeword."

"Repeat it ten times."

Blueblood obeyed and Twilight nodded. "Finish stripping below the waist," she ordered. "Show me the seed vaults of the royal bachelorette herd."

Chapter 2

View Online

Wincing, Blueblood obeyed, and Mistress Twilight nodded gravely. Time to show willing, he told himself. He smiled weakly at the biggest of his … caretakers, he supposed. He hadn't been entirely stupid. I knew this day would come, and I didn't want Dove in trouble. He'd obediently presented himself twice daily so Dove could keep up with external grooming. Just as Mistress Sun drilled into my head. I-- I can’t forget what she did to me.

As a result, his ass, his groin, his sheath, even his balls, and over the hips where a pair of briefs would cover, were clearly visible to Mistress Twilight. There, as required, they were shorn completely bald down to the light grey skin beneath. Dove had done the same between his thighs, and then carefully lotioned down the skin, plucked and lotioned his taint, and... He blushed and squirmed further, despite years of the ritual, at the last requirement. You can’t say you don’t enjoy it, old colt, he accused himself. Just… it’s more intensely humiliating than the rest.

Of course, as the mistress had been pointing out, the part of him that craved another's control over his life didn't see that as a bad thing at all. Wanted it more and more every time it happened, in fact.

Mistress Twilight apparently wanted to be certain of every detail. Not a surprise; at least she wasn’t making him check off his daily list. Not any more, anyway. "While you've been sulking, slut…" she said with a growl. All she had to do on top of that growl was raise an inquisitive eyebrow. The charismatic resonance wasn't like that of Mistress Sun, of course, or he'd be trying to climax, lock or no lock. Still, it was more than enough to make him quiver and moan instinctively.

Blueblood unconsciously rubbed his bare rump, which probably told Mistress Twilight all she needed to know. That said, he had learned better manners now. "I've been submitting to the twice daily enemas, mistress," he said with wary resignation, his other hand awkwardly stroking over the "vault."

His shorn balls and sheath, indeed his entire package, had been carefully prepared and trussed up. Right down to the final lock he had sworn by. The locking system was connected by a series of enchanted silk cords, treated to avoid chafing. The cords crisscrossed his shaft itself, and was then tightly but carefully tied repeatedly around his balls. Several loops between both the groin and his nuts were fastened tight to separate each overfull semen factory.

They strained constantly, the magic keeping it an exquisite mix of carefully capped pleasure and the ache of need. Just the thought sent him whimpering, gasping, and then rubbing as much as he dared under Mistress Twilight's stern eye. They were so very overfull by now, given he'd had avoided the only mares with authorization to drain him for months. The only mares he was even permitted to offer sex of any kind to, even his tongue. But, he thought, Mistress Twilight said if I behaved myself…

Blueblood shuddered, and bowed deeply before his mistress. After locking his balls down tight, the cords then crisscrossed over his perpetually hard member. The "first lock" held the silk in place; it couldn't be untied save by an alicorn or Dove, as far as he knew. Dove was authorized to remove them only for cleaning and grooming, and they reset magically back onto him on a strict time table. They were permitted nothing else. Mistress Rarity decreed it.

The final lock was simple: a snug cockring, self-cleaning by magic, around the base of his strained shaft. Always tight, completely unremovable except by an alicorn, specifically the nine Equestrian mares. Thankfully, Harmony and the mistresses would not permit its placement without safeguards.

As a result, the final lock was as much magical locus as it was physical restraint. Blueblood could urinate with no problem, other than the perpetual stiffness itself, but he could never ejaculate. Unlike a normal bondage tool, it cut him off completely. He couldn't even leak precum, so long as the final lock was on. It was mostly unadorned, being adornment itself. The inscribed runes were sheathed inside a smooth covering designed to prevent them from digging into his now perpetually sensitive flesh.

At the bottom, the final reminder. A little chain descended with a dog tag reading "CELLY'S" on one side and "TOY" on the other. It was entirely true. Even more than the other mistresses, even Mistress Moon, he was Mistress Sun's property. Every time he saw it, even in a mirror, he remembered the final defeat in the ring, and wanted so badly to cum. Sometimes, he half-masturbated around the cords anyway; he didn't really have a choice. Not when he thought of Mistress Sun too long. The whole arrangement was kept carefully against his leg by the traditional cloth sleeve.

His mistress of the moment was Mistress Sun's closest pet, as he understood the arrangement. And certainly, she was the most devoted to Mistress Sun. He swallowed heavily. "I've," he started, and then closed his eyes. "This slut has risked the… I…"

"Shhh," Mistress Twilight said softly. "This is your last mercy, little colt. You've become a bit uncontrolled in your sulk. You're permitted an I today." She stroked his cheek, and the warmth that blossomed in him was better than anything but his rare releases. His mistress was so kind sometimes. "You understand, I think; not just your place, but that we're concerned for you. More than as Mistress Sun's property… but you chose to be that property. Don't ever forget that again."

His jaw jerked and he coughed, nodding. "Yes, mistress. I won't. Not ever again, as you say."

She nodded. "Good," she told him, even smiling a bit. Though her voice was stern again, he felt that same blossoming warmth, this time in his belly. The thrill of the mistress’ approval sometimes closed on orgasmic. Thankfully, mostly by metaphor. She continued the orders, and he attended closely. "Undo your sleeve; it's time for inspection. You've been letting Dove undo the first lock?"

Promptness. Promptness, obedience, and order, that was how to please Mistress Twilight, if you were earning your way up. He swallowed again, nodding. Thus, he hastened to obey, quickly pulled his swollen, tender shaft out of its sleeve against his thigh.

It was perpetually hard at a foot in length; he'd been so proud of it once. The member might have been considered thick, once, by the legion of kept mares and whorses that Blueblood had once indulged in. He'd never even mildly impressed any of the Elemental Alicorns.

Mistress Rainbow Dash especially had bluntly and unfavorably compared him to Mistress Sun's guards that were apparently occasionally lent them. To me, he remembered, in my mind and soul, she is Mistress Sun, always. He couldn't think of the mare who'd owned him so thoroughly as "Aunty" any more. It had never been more than a convenient fiction; he was no more related to her than to Mistress Twilight. Only repeated drills kept him from making a fool of himself in public, by forgetting whom "your aunt" meant.

He'd been broken of further pretensions, too. The word 'pencil' had been used more than once. It had rapidly ground down even the memories of his arrogance, in those bad early days. He'd… needed it. That was why he'd asked for it. Begged for it.

Blueblood's few remaining shreds of dignity tried to avoid getting harder at the mere memory of the dildo casts Mistress Dash had shown him. He'd failed, then and now. She'd emphasized he'd never been more than a slightly larger fish in a very shallow pond, indeed. And the thought had made and did make his prick pulse against its restraints, forcing a long gasp out of him.

Were there even words to describe what it felt like when his cock tried to stiffen, tried to prepare precum-- and failed? He didn't think so.

While Blue had been lost in thought, he’d lost the thread of his mistress’ will.

Apparently, though, their thoughts were running along parallel tracks. Mistress Twilight sighed with a strange mixture of arousal and irritation. It sent the mammoth Amazon’s jiggly breastflesh heaving hypnotically beneath her shirt. "No wonder she called you a colt," she said grumpily. With an errant wave of her hand, she gestured at his bound member. She didn't bother to say anything further. She just snorted disdainfully.

The clear disregard caused him to twitch and moan needfully. His toes clenched and sweat dripped down his face. She doesn't even need to touch me, and I'm hers, he knew. Her brow wrinkled, and panic hit him Wait! I'm to behave!

"I'm… I'm sorry, mistress?" asked Blueblood, panting. He wondered if he'd missed her saying anything. Am I breaking my word already? he thought, and waited on her pleasure.

Or displeasure.

Mistress Twilight tilted her head to the left, and her lips pursed in suppressed amusement. Inspecting his cock visually, she seemed to relish his wallowing in his low status. If it pleases her, he thought, then it is fulfillment of my purpose. He hastily wiped sweat from his forehead, and found himself half kneeling already. Wanting to be on the floor before her.

She gave him a raised eyebrow, face more curious than impatient. Suddenly, Blueblood realized that she hadn't ever been the one to shame his size before. To see his reactions, and dominate him by his need to be shamed. To have the delusions of his upbringing stripped as bare as his shorn hide. Cringing, he smiled, and whimpering, he felt that warmth spread throughout his thin chest.

When he dared to look up, he swallowed heavily. The sheer erotic force of her hit him, and he cried out as the stifled arousal struck again. Feral glee burned in his mistress' eyes that drew him utterly into the fire. She was smiling, but it was a smile that reminded him more of a griffon than a pony. Prey. She saw him as her rightful prey, and he couldn't deny it.

He was suddenly aware that he'd shown further weakness before the mightiest, most amazonian of his mistresses. He whimpered again, this time with trepidation; Mistress Twilight could be more demanding than even Mistress Rarity.

Her demands rose up as swiftly as the perk of her fat nipples, tenting her already strained shirt. "That's interesting, colt," she purred. "Are you just ashamed of the fact that I've seen real dicks and yours doesn't measure up the way you used to think? Or are you turned on, too?"

She'd spotted it. And she wanted to play. Blueblood whimpered, with as much anticipation as trepidation. However, he didn't dare push his mistress' patience any further with evasion. "Both," he whispered hoarsely.

Mistress Twilight nodded and licked her lips slowly, hungrily, tracing teeth as much as lips. The utter sexual power of her made him yelp softly, biting down on his lip to avoid earning her ire. He saw the look in her eyes; saw the lust that he knew she'd use on him in their session. The thought thrilled him, curling his toes and making his stomach clench.

More of it struck him; he gasped as his overstuffed and completely locked balls tried to produce again. It’s so tight, his mind wailed. I’m so full, I’ve been so stupid putting this off-- Mistress Sun’s property is so full and I can’t get release!

Release might be on its way, though. Pleasure warmed Mistress Twilight’s cheeks like strong cider "I thought so, colt," she told Blueblood with a spreading smile. "Which means I'm going to have less argument than I thought getting you to submit to being filmed, then."

Or not. Panic slapped him nearly as hard as his mistress’ breasts had. "Wh.. what?" Blueblood gasped. She had the right, but none of them, not even Mistress Moon had ever done so before! His body shook, fear and arousal forcing his well-trapped, puny maleness to try to grow. Why this, why now, he thought, eyes widening. Is she that angry with me? Have I crossed some final line?

Only the memory of her protective rage kept him from completely losing all stability. That furious guardianship was an emotional foundation, and panic ebbed to fear and became conscious action.

Still, he thought. Begging works on all the mistresses. I'm not ready to be a public-- what did she call me, broodstallion? He whined, looked around frantically. Bowing deeply, he lowered his eyes to Mistress Twilight's mighty feet. Gasping, he begged, "Please, mistress, don't make this public, please! I couldn't stand it if this was known."

Blueblood whimpered, clutching at his nuts. Realization ran through his mind. If anyone knew, the mockery of the mares, the stares of real stallions, free stallions, looking down at me… He'd always hoped that eventually, he'd become truly tamed. That his tantrums would be worked out of him.

But isn't that just the same as being her slut when and where she chooses?

A last, prideful part of him wanted desperately to believe that it was just fear making his veins pound and his eyes widen. But he felt the buzz of the cock ring's interfering with his vesicles; felt his entire package leap to attention. Indecision haunted him. You're being a fool, Blueblood, he told himself. Mistress hasn't said anything else yet. Wait upon her will!

Slowly, Blueblood calmed himself and looked up into his mistress' eyes. She wasn't looking at him. She was inspecting his groin again, her smile returning to a smirk now. She knew what his cock was proclaiming to the world. How much of a dirty thrill the threat of exposure was. His hands slowly fell away, and he sighed. Whatever she wished, she would examine; why try to hide the evidence? With the block of his hands gone, it was clear that she could see his little-- by her standards-- nuts try to swell against the sack-flesh pulled taut over them.

Burly arms that made mock of his legs in their sheer power and development wrapped around him. To his surprise, she embraced him again, pulling him against the mountainous softness of her grand rack. "Oh, shh, sweetie," Mistress Twilight said gently. "I'm not going to publish my private trophies. I'm just going to show them to my girls and the Sisters," she said.

It was… mostly reassuring. She grinned fiercely, and he felt her dominant side in full force lash at him. He wriggled helplessly in her grip as she lifted him off the ground like a doll to whisper in his ear. "To start," she purred, and further humiliation was all but invited in by Blueblood's half-pleasured, half-tormented groan.

"We're going to laugh at them," she told him, and nodded approvingly when he moaned. Gave him a secret little smile as she saw him only barely restrained himself from pointless masturbation at the thought of his massive, muscular mistresses watching his shame. She let him down, and he staggered back towards the wall, his constrained prick bobbing and twitching. Blueblood squirmed, his cushy padding and fillyish rump trembling as she looked over him like some dubious stock animal.

The gaze burned him wondered what she was thinking, and hanged his head, biting his lip again as she whispered, "Pretty little slut." With that, Mistress Twilight walked closer to him again, pinning him to the walls casually with just her mammoth rack. She was so huge-- forget breasts bigger than his head. The mighty melons were nearly as massive as he was!

And behind them, his mistress was one of the greatest warladies of the world on just the physical. Quite possibly the greatest archmage. And a fiercely loyal mare whose friend you embarrassed, Blueblood, he told himself. And then mouthed off to her mistress. I am lower than even a single one of mistress' breasts. I deserve whatever laughter I get.

The thought alone wasn't enough for his body's vote on the matter. Blueblood's swollen balls betrayed him again, trying to strain against the cords and the ring's magic as the realization hit harder. They didn't just nearly outmass him. Weren’t just real Princesses to his mostly hollow title. When she had smacked him with an errant turn, they had battered him around without even dimpling. Just because she'd willed it, because it was her whim. Swallowing heavily, he crouched down in reverence of the mighty tits in front of him; the twin peaks alone weren't just more worthy than he was. They were stronger than he was.

Then Mistress Twilight ruthlessly lashed him with her words alone. "And then I'm going to show them to my coltfriend. You've heard of Shadow Hopper, I'm sure," she commented. His hips jerked suddenly at the thought. Then the realization struck home. In the end, he moaned in pained pleasure as he tried and failed to cum, yet again.

Mouth dry, horn bobbing slowly, Blueblood nodded. He moved cautiously, trying not to bounce his muzzle off the pinning expanse of her glorious teats. Not from a lack of nterestOh, he certainly yearned for them, prick aching all the more now. However, though his mistress might have made some use of them on him, he knew better than to risk the punishment for presuming to dare touch them unbidden. "I… your coltfriend?" he gasped, eyes growing wild. If Mistress Twilight was serious about someone, what does that mean for me? I'm bound to the royal bachelorette herd… will Mistress Sun transfer that?

Stomach heaving, his eyes cast about wildly at Mistress Twilight’s feet. He didn't know. He'd never been one for other stallions before, perhaps knowing instinctively that he wasn't fit for competition. But he really wasn't the sort that herds could rely upon. This could be good… or it could be very bad. Panic began to well up and he hugged his wiry arms against his chest.

Mistress Twilight pushed her enormous breasts closer, and closer, until he could barely breathe or speak without touching where one juicy nipple poked through her shirt. But she smiled gently, and reached down to ruffle his mane. "Don't worry, little guy," she purred, licking her lips again. "I'm just going to show them to him. I'm not going to force you to drain in front of him.”

Cock throbbing, Blueblood melted back against the wall, involuntarily letting out a sigh of relief. She made a soft moan herself, and rolled her shoulders. Her lips pursed a bit, and he saw pleasure run over her muzzle. Then she reached beneath her rack and grabbed his trapped cock with her broad hand and squeezed the sensitive, tumescent flesh.

As he yelped, she laughed and told him, "But you know, he's an actual stallion, sweetie. Three times as long as you are-- and that's when it's at rest. Full..." She smirked, and his knees went weak. Her huge rack didn't permit him to sink to his knees, or even to slide down the wall. Suddenly, he felt his left foot covered by her huge right shoe. "Full," she breathed and said, "Full, the dick that makes me crawl is longer than you are tall, little broodie. That's what makes a stallion."

Blueblood desperately wanted to be on his knees before her now. Knew-- hoped-- that he belonged to her. Hoped that if he was a good enough sub, she'd use him when she was bored of a coltfriend. When she just wanted a toy to use. The difference… He understood better now. He slumped forward, but her mighty rack was still there, and he had to stop or risk further punishment.

The hefty melons had him fixed, forced to keep his eyes where she could capture them. He let out a short, whining whinny, and he suddenly froze. The sheer, somehow sinful revelation of what a weak, dinky little colt he really was made his locked cock bounce up against the bottom of Mistress Twilight's left tit.

Oh no! Blueblood nearly wailed the thought outloud

His whole world spun-- but the punishment never came. His mistress, his goddess smiled at him!

Her palms slammed to either side of Blueblood's head on the wall and she raised an eyebrow. He couldn't-- Permission, he gabbled mentally. The contract specifies I have to offer… "M-my flesh is yours, mistress," he whimpered. "However much or little you desire." He hung his head further as his prick flicked again, his lock jingling as the head bounced against her shirt-covered megaboob again. "Very little," he said hoarsely.

Paradise, it seemed was found in the voice of a mare he’d once despised as a jumped-up commoner. A moan escaped Mistress Twilight's lips and she panted, tongue curling out hungrily. "Ooh… I can feel your dick bob, little slut" she purred. "You're trapped, and locked, and you're so close to getting off on the fact that I'm going to show pretty pictures of your teenie weenie to my big strapping stallion, of all the inspection, and cleaning, and draining… and I'd never treat his juicy cock like that… but…"

Breath hot, she leaned further in. Right alongside his quivering head; he watched as her tongue licked away her drool from the thought of her stud’s shaft. "My honey is a real stallion, you see," she whispered in Blueblood's stock-still ear, "And he likes knowing that he gets to own me. Beat me. Tame me. Like you never will. Never could," she said.

He'd never expected that in a thousand years. In a thousand thousand.

Blueblood's hands clutched at the wall behind him. Sweat collected under his hide hair, everywhere, soaking in. Someone… tame… Mistress Twilight? Someone dominate her? Blueblood almost began to cry again, but there was a strange lustful dryness in his ducts and throat. He was the ultimate bottom of the heap, the broodie’s toy. Uncontrollable now, his hips gyrated back against the wall. Good and hard, as though his mistress had already started the prod of the draining process. He could almost feel...

Mistress Twilight's full lips parted, rapid pants escaping her mouth, and whipping across his face. Not panicked, like his, but horny. The heated musk of her was becoming overpowering. A decision struck, and she would have no more of his hesitancy. In an eyeblink, she slammed her nipple into his mouth and snarled. She dipped her head right by his ear, smothering him with her super-boob.

He could barely breathe, but it didn't matter. This was reassuringly familiar in the midst of this strange newness. Though his lungs burned, he welcomed the soft, encompassing breastflesh, clinging to that smothering familiarity. He sucked nervously at her nip through the t-shirt, the closeness of her tongue to his ear making him pant around the thick nub.

It was huge, like the rest of her. Girthier than his wimpy little cock, he realized, and here he was, fellating his mistress' nipple. As her lips moved closer, he deliriously wondered if she'd tug on him like a stallion about to mount… But she didn't quite touch Blueblood's ear before whispering in the other, the tease of it making the veins on his bound length pulse all the harder.

"And it turns him on all the more,” Mistress Twilight explained with a smirk, “To see me own some lesser little cock or trivial little pussy. Such fun with my other toys. He’s been so good he deserves a treat like this! You understand, right?" She straightened up, popping her nipple out of his mouth, and letting his cock free of her hand.

His chest heaved again as he scrabbled for unrestricted air. Magenta light flared around his mighty mistress' horn, and it began to form the glow of a visual capture orb. "I don't hear you even calling hooker out, so… You must like it," Mistress Twilight concluded, and put her other hand on her fat, curvy hip. She took smug satisfaction in shaking it arrogantly.

Blueblood whimpered, wishing he'd be allowed to even worship just that lovely, phat, squishy hip, let alone the ass behind it. After all, she'd been horny enough to let him give her nipple brief oral submission.... No, he told himself. Best not to pressure Mistress. She held the spell on the edge of conclusion, waiting for his consent. He closed his eyes, and honesty and lust won out.

"... I like it," Blue whispered.

She squealed like a schoolfilly, hopping up and down and clapping her hands beneath her shaking titties. He shook, too, as she impacted the floor and sent him rocking! "Wish I'd figured this out years ago, pretty little colt," Mistress Twilight teased. "It is my job to keep you from being a sulky slut, and I just bet you'd be better tempted to obey if I'd instituted showing you off to my girls and special real stallions before."

She stopped bouncing and suddenly, her eyes widening dangerously, she flexed every muscle in her body! She bulged and swelled over him, furious power and tension everywhere. Her tongue crossed her lips again and he was abruptly aware that her smallest tertiary feather, let alone her pinkie, could snap him in half. "Say it,” she growled. “Tell me what it is you yearn for.”

Blueblood closed his eyes. Suddenly, the ache from the weeks of his balls being backed up and his cock being eternally tight didn't seem to matter. The world, save his mistress, began to fade away. His head was drifting out. That growl. That "threat," or rather…

The implied promise.

Another whimper forced its way out of his throat, and a shudder compelled him to protectively hold his hands over his throbbing, vein-pulsing member, still held utterly trapped. He didn't dare prevaricate or equivocate. Not before his mistress. Wriggling his softly padded hips around and bowing his head, he bit his lip and whined. "I love it, mistress!"

There was a slight relaxation in the furious amazon strength looming over him. Gorgeously taut muscles loosened just a bit. Just enough to show the jormunganic, serpentine shift of pure strength beneath her hide.

It took him a few heartbeats to recover from his reaction to that.

He continued, groaning, the pleasurepain of false orgasms hitting him again and again. "I love being compared to real stallions, Mistress Twilight," he groaned. "I love knowing that they, that you, that the big, buff mares who take care of me will laugh at my stupid--"

"Teenie weenie," Mistress Twilight interjected. Her smirk dared him to argue.

Blue didn't. Drool flecked at his cheek, and his horn pulsed with ardent energy. The same thoughts poured through his mind on a relentless trail. Good adult colts obey their superiors, he reminded himself happily. Good sluts let their mistresses know the truth, and good, slutty adult colts take whatever they are given. No part of him wanted to fight it any more; he knew his miserable little cock was just a toy for superior ponies.

Not even a good toy, and he loved knowing that. Loved knowing how much of an embarrassment he was. He beamed up at her, his mane falling into his eyes. "Who will laugh at my stupid, teenie weenie that got me into so much trouble," he concluded and, as Mistress Twilight withdrew her rack, sunk to his knees before her.

She sniffed, but smiled. "Get the first pair of gloves and the cleaning tools out," she ordered him. "Otherwise, you speak when spoken to, but only if you need to do so to follow orders; otherwise I want you demure, I want you respectful, and I want you obedient. Presume I'm talking to the stallion who will be watching unless I give you a command or ask for you by your names-- you know, colt or slut.' Got that, slut?" she growled.

Blue bowed until his head and horn touched the floor, and couldn't quite keep from drooling further with lust. His shame intensified as he realized her words alone-- no, the arousal she was forcing on him-- had made his tail flag. Did any of his mistresses even have to order that, any more?

No. He realized they didn't. After all, Blue, he told himself, sluts make themselves ready for use. This was exactly how things should be. He didn't bother to try and stop the muscle from revealing his shaved crack. "Yes, mistress," he groaned. He didn't bother whispering; no one could hear. To honor her, though, he did try to keep it as low as he could. Emphasis; to show proper respect before a badass beta-alpha mare like her-- more alpha than he could handle, that was for sure!

Mistress Twilight growled a bit more. It was so powerful, so delicious… He fantasized about what would have happened if he had surrendered this truth to her before. If he had begged, before she had a coltfriend… would she have laughed at his presumptions, mocked his cock from the beginning? Or would he have truly been tamed, not just conditioned. Could I have avoided the final lock? he wondered. He'd never know.

What he did know was that he would serve and obey now without question. The massively muscular mare turned again, her feet stamping a bit, right near his face as he scrambled in the tiny room for his tote bag. He almost kissed the shoe-clad foot, but shuddered at the thought of the punishment that such an unordered presumption would earn him. He knew he was already going to have problems sitting down for a while.

Looked forward to it, actually. In fact, Blue wished she'd do it sooner, and debated begging for it. He ached to feel the sting on his ass. To know a mistress was marking him with her hand.

While he dug in it for the first round of equipment, Mistress Twilight turned on the recording spell and grinned. "Hi Hopper! Hi girls. Ladies, you know Blueblood, of course, so I'll be speaking to Hopper." Her full lips pressed together and she kissed the orb of the recording spell. Chewing on her thumbnail, she purred, "Mmm. My master."

Shuddering, Blue barely managed to control himself, though it wasn't like he could cum anyway. Not… yet. She was using him, at least. He was good for that. She was using him to please her master.

She went on, "And Hopper, honey, you know how Celestia tamed this turkey, right? Right. Well, he kept racking up debts like an idiot-- I'll explain more when you've got your dick in my ass like this wimp never will-- and, long story short, he did the right thing and came to us to get trained up. My beloved teacher-mistress had a certain ritual that he’d actually researched, one that worked on fortune’s debts, too, since he was willing. When it came together, it worked, too; the equations were ironclad."

It didn't seem so bad-- right up until Mistress Twilight glared right at him. He winced, feeling her anger like a goad. Under its force, he lowered his eyes again, guessing what was on her mind. "Of course," she growled, "He kept on backsliding, but…" She smirked. "With one exception, I'm pretty sure he really likes the enforcement clauses, and I think I've come up with a proper course of treatment for the rest of it from here on out."

That was his cue to straighten and proffer the required paraphernalia. "I'll show you the works, lover," she concluded, and held out her burly hands towards Blue. While the mistress had been recording, he had pulled a pair of properly sized rubber gloves and some cloths and tubes from the tote. He'd listened trembling through her speech. Did he like them? Even the enforced chastity, let alone the draining… method?

Of course I do. He berated himself mentally for dishonesty, even to himself.

Blue swallowed heavily again, and concentrated on his assigned task. Her hands weren't quite as much larger than his as Mistress Sun's had been, of course. Just as usual, though, he started to pant and gyrate his hips when he tugged the rubber gloves onto Mistress Twilight's hands. He just couldn't help himself. Even though he'd only been permitted near Mistress Sun in the ring, when she had taken him away to bind him, and when she had conditioned Dove and him…

Just three times, but it was stamped onto him as though she'd pressed her footprint onto his very soul.

Images flashed through his head, and he almost lost it once again. Agony and ecstasy twined and intertwined in his stuffed package as it fought the bindings. He groaned, fingers trembling as he forced himself from that distraction, too.

He closed his eyes, just briefly, and told himself, I mustn't remember! I don't dare! Eyes snapping open, he struggled around and forced the latex over Mistress Twilight's strong hands. She purred, "Enjoying the view, my pretty little slut?"

Nodding slowly, Blue held out his hands, and his mistress swept her palms beneath his. He stared awful comparison, dry-mouthed and tail flagging yet again. His trembling hands appeared so small, soft, and delicate compared to the giantess before him, and that turned him on. Made him yearn to be used.

Not just as a living, squirming dildo, his prick trapped while a mistress used it. He got that often enough when he had the bravery to offer himself to the princesses. But for anything. Mouth, ass, hands-- if the mistress wanted to take his horn into her glorious pussy, he'd do it, do whatever she said!

Mistress Twilight leered at him, and he knelt again before her. Need, terrible need flushed through him, his skin burning. Only Mistress Celestia could flat out drop him into a masturbatory trance by flexing, of course. But Mistress Twilight and the others made him feel like was burning with lust, just by casting his weak body into their overwhelming shadows.

Suddenly, she crouched down a bit and casually slung Blue under one arm. She reached over him to do it, taking him up around his waist. She hefted him, bouncing him a bit like a rubber toy, then turning him perpendicular to the view from the orb. He couldn't see her face, but he heard her toes scraping inside her shoes. Heard the smile in her voice as she said, "Since you've been a bit smarter, my squishy slut, you may worship my ass a little. Through the clothes, of course."

Dizziness, a perpetual weakness for him these days, made his vision blurry and he shook his head weakly as he reoriented himself. Soon enough he was pressing his muzzle to the soft, squishy rumpcheek his face was planted by. Licking and nuzzling, he listened to Mistress Twilight relate his shameful tale.

"He broke his oath three times," she said coldly. Blue squirmed under the frosty distaste, even though he knew it would look like he was shaking his ass and balls for the spell-view. "Each time, the metareal gestalt of Loyalty required that we punish him worse-- or it would do so, instead. We decided to have some mercy, but the last time… Well. The ritual forces didn’t leave us much choice.. Our subject has been spending the last few years in involuntary chastity as a result. He isn't allowed to masturbate, or even spill seed accidentally if he's turned on, either; that's considered wasting valuable property of the royal bachelorette herd, and the penalties would be stiffer than this poor little thing gets even if he figured out how to do so."

Mistress Twilight flicked his tied-off tool, setting it jiggling faster. "Consent is still important," she said firmly as he yelped. "We can't fuck him unless he offers, and we would be punished by Loyalty if we did so anyway, or even pressured him to do so. He's not much of a lover, not with that silly little teenie weenie, but as a toy? Well." she said with a laugh, as Blueblood blushed, squirming his fat-padded hips against her amazonian arm.

Setting him down on his feet, his mistress spun him 'round towards the orb, and slapped his bare ass. "Rebellious or obedient, he does make a pretty toy," she purred, and let out a whimpering groan. "Can't wait to see what you do to me, Hopper, after you watch me play rough with my toy…"

She grinned, an almost carnivorous smirk on her mostly-herbivorous muzzle that left Blue panting lustfully again. "Up on your toes, colt," she ordered. Shaking, his face reddening all the more, he forced himself to teeter onto his tip toes.

Mistress Twilight steadied him with a broad hand gripping his squishy bum, making him yelp. Two fingers of her other hand fingers grabbed his bound prick just behind the flare, eliciting a lustful moan and a wince together. Controlling himself as best he could, whinnied softly. His eyes flicked up once, then he turned his head from the globe's line of recording

I'm going to be a good sub, for once, he vowed, horn dipping submissively. With a practiced, showy gesture, she swept a finger down from his quivering flare. “Ahhh!” he hissed and closed his eyes. The familiar sensation of latex on his incredibly sensitive, swollen cockflesh all but forced him press back against the sweep. She smiled at the lewd motion, and an answering grin pulled at the edges of his lips.

Pleased or not, her abasement of his body, of his masculinity continued unabated. By means of example, Mistress Twilight drew her finger further from flare to groin along the top. The thick digit bumped lightly over the cords and medial ring, making him flush with shame and lust yet again. She fixed him with a stern glare, though some hint of a smile nearly as warm as it was salacious remained as she turned to the spell again.

With a sniff, she gripped Blue's swollen member between two fingers again at the base and said, "Can you believe that apparently this dinky thing used to be quite the rumored heft on party row, Hopper? Pinkie confirms that there used to be complaints from non-hypers, but I guess that's mostly because he used to be such a rude little colt."

It wasn't shame that made Blue wince and turn away completely. No, it's a dirty sense of lust, he thought. I'm wallowing in this. I'm loving this. Goddesses and Rainbows, I wish I'd known before…

Hearing his former pride and joy shredded verbally left him whining wordlessly for more such treatment and he flushed pink beneath white hide. He tried to keep his gaze averted but Mistress Twilight pinched his rump. The sting on bare flesh was electrifying; he came swiftly back to attention all over.

The mistress held the pinch, twisting softly as she ordered, "Smile for and at the camera, colt. In fact, hold your teenie weenie up with your hands and keep it steady." Order completed, she released the soft flab of his ass and Blue obeyed hurriedly. He tried not to think too much about Mistress Dash's jeers, Mistress Applejack's earthy contempt, or the cold disapproval of Mistress Rarity; every flash of it made his cock dry-twitch again.

Clutching his fingers around the throbbing medial ring, he strove to control himself. Eager to show just what a good slut he was, he did his best to avoid trying to rut his own hands at the feel of his fingers against the perpetually sensitive flesh. To better show himself off as Mistress Twilight demanded, he tentatively rested more of his weight back against her supporting hand.

The reward was instant. The mighty amazon behind him could have easily lifted him with a finger; to her hand, he was nothing. Indeed, she braced him with her fingers outstretched and used her thumb to caress his fillyish tush, caressing him and holding him alike. He felt quite the thrilling rush as she cooed, "Good colt, yeah, that's it. I'll be the strong one, little wimp. You don't have to worry about a thing-- except obeying me."

When Blue had forced himself to obedient, presenting his foot-long tied up schlong for the spell orb's sight, Mistress Twilight grinned broadly. She lifted him off his dangling feet, stretched out her other hand to three feet past his groin, and held up a victory sign with two gloved fingers. "This would be you, Hopper-- soft-- for comparison. And that's not even counting how much thicker you are, stud; tonight, I'm going to need a real stallion in me, good and hard," Twilight nickered happily to the orb. Blueblood could smell her lust and realized that she was getting off on more than just his obedience now.

In fact, he thought as his body began to tremble, I'm just foreplay to her!

A calmer part of him wondered if that would really be so bad. The eternal horniness produced by his enforced chastity locked him on to that idea-- as an ideal.

Tail flagging again, Blue groaned and rutted his hips in the air a bit, bouncing in his mistress' hand. She smirked and wryly said, "Somepony's kind of needy. The poor thing." She considered him and let him dry-hump the air for a while.

Her patience thinned swiftly and she scowled. In a rush, she pushed him back flat on his feet and pinching his cock just behind the flare while slapping his ass. As he whimpered and whinnied with nervous excitement, Mistress Twilight looked up at the orb, still frowning. "Of course," she said grumpily, "Part of that is that the stubborn little slut has been refusing to show up like he's supposed to do, every few days for one of us to do this. Rarity, I'm sending him to you next."

His veins chilled, and if it weren't for the locks on his prick, he might have actually gone soft. His first encounter with the Elements had been humiliating the sternest of his non-Astral mistresses, and eventually being served his comeuppance. She might have taken him under her protective penumbra, but she did not forgive his constant backsliding in the least. Mistress Twilight might abuse him and humiliate him, but only so far as he loved it.

Mistress Rarity, if angered, would push Blue to the very edge of his limits. She would never push him too far, of course. She tied with Mistress Fluttershy for least safewords needed over the years. But he would learn, and the cringing part of him was frightened that this time he might have pushed her too far.

Fear made him give out a strangled protest. "Not Mi--" he began, and yelped! Mistress Twilight had no tolerance for his disobedience in any regard. Her strong hand gave him four swift spanks, two on each cheek. He quieted swiftly from the yelp, and almost had himself under control again.

His mistake, of course. His self-control was only peripherally the point, and his mistress made sure he understood he was under her control first and utmost. Her strong, thick forefinger flicked his swollen balls back and forth like some physics experiment. The simple yet abrupt punishment left him sobbing with both the sting and the lustful need for more alike. She shook her head, growling, and said, "I am not asking, colt. I'm telling. You are not presenting yourself as is proper for a Prince of Platinum's House, let alone as a 'nephew' of Princesses Celestia and Luna. You will be going to Rarity, next, am I clear, colt?"

Better Mistress Rarity's unending imagination and tendency to push the limits of the contract than Mistress Twilight's unveiled wrath, he berated himself. "Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress," Blue whimpered, but didn't stop looking at the camera. Truth be told, the once-proud unicorn was amazingly aroused, his body tensing, his musk filling the air… he was wired up more than he could remember. Had he ever been this turned on, this blissfully prepared for whatever would come, before when he was a wastrel and debauched party "stallion?"

No,he realized. Never.

Mistress Twilight reached over and toyed with one of his hard nipples. The delectable scratch of it made his chest tighten and sweat drip down his forehead. As his tongue came out raggedly, a line of saliva tying it to his lip, she smiled fondly. "This really is a little treat for you, isn't it?" she said with a smirk.

"Yes, mistress," he whispered. “Thank you, mistress." He clamped down fast on his impulse to find some way to show her how right she was. That was Blueblood. He was just Blue, her toy pony. If she wanted to be thank profusely, she'd just point, and his tongue would follow.

"That said," she told the orb, "He's not done with his spankings from me, and since I imposed this, this counts as his maximum punishment, Rarity." Tension he didn't know he had left melted out of his shoulders as the sternness over his mistress' voice was turned towards another. I am sheltered by her, he thought, and blushed. It wasn't a bad feeling at all.

He wished, just vaguely, that he had a full time mistress. Not just for himself, but some little herd… Greedy! he snarled at himself. You are lucky to have what you do! Fortunate beyond measure!

Mistress Twilight continued speaking, unhearing of his thoughts. She instructed Mistress Rarity, saying,"You just treat him like a usual session and outfit him, or you'll hear from me. I want our little colt to remember not to run away and sulk." He shivered. He didn't think he'd ever dare again. In fact, he was certain he never wanted to even consider it.

She traced her fingers over Blue's chest, squeezing at what he knew she'd consider shamefully underdeveloped muscles He had been forced out of his sedentary lifestyle, but he wasn't particularly active. He couldn't, not with the constant sensitivity his whole body seemed to have these days. And… he knew that his ego had switched tracks a bit. Since his mistresses emphasized what a soft, weak colt he was, he knew in his heart and his well-controlled balls that wanted to be their cushy little piece. So he took steps to avoid becoming dissolute, but stayed pleasingly (he hoped) plump.

Two fingers yanked his flare up again for display. She tilted her head lightly, horn glowing, and he felt her casually shove his legs apart. "So," she continued. "Our subject is supposed to come by every few days. That would leave him drained and unswollen enough to unleash his balls and cock relatively quickly, and it would mean we'd have less prep work,"

Mistress Twilight grumbled. Unwisely, his body brought him to her more direct attention. His overstuffed nuts throbbed as though to remind him that he was at fault for this mess, and he coughed a bit, choking on the groan.

Eyes snapping to him, she turned the cough into another fillyish yelp. Her methodology was simple, and she turned him again into a part of her seduction of her master. A huge thumb and forefinger roughly grabbed Blue's bound scrotum right above the swollen balls and gave an ungentle tug. She held them up and away at the maximum extension of his sac, her telekinesis swatting his cock to the side and pinning it against his thigh.

Shuddering, eyes watering, he stayed as still as he could while she continued her lecture cum humiliation. She told the spell, "There's not a lot of spare room for sperm production here, much less in the seminal vesicles to hold the finished product." Mistress Twilight sniffed, her other latex-covered hand pushing his sack around. She sternly prodded at it with her finger to serve the dual purpose of punishing him and showing off his pitiful display for the view of the recording.

Needing to cum so bad, he trembled as she grabbed one of his sore balls between thumb and forefinger. She slowly squeezed against the tight semen reserve. "This, you see, doesn't belong to Blueblood any more," she said, giving him a smug aside glance. "And since we can't have him wasting it or losing it, we collect it."

"I don't know what Celestia does with it," Mistress Twilight admitted, and Blue burned with further shame as she gave him a withering stare. "It's not like it'd fetch a high price without his name attached. Charity at the sperm banks, maybe?" He might have protested, once. He might have talked about the powerful lineage, of unicorns past.

But with his mistress's strength so close to crushing his testicle casually, after years of training under such magnificent and potent dominatrixes? He couldn't even conceive of being a factor in any equation of importance, not even as a possession. And he couldn't help but wonder if it finally gave him some redeeming value that he was going to be helping his mistress get off when the video of her humiliating him… made a real stallion want to rut his mistress all the harder.

Chapter 3

View Online

Blue was still trapped in his own half-fantasy, half-nightmare when Mistress Twilight grabbed his mane in her potent fist. With a simple twist, she yanked him across her suddenly upraised knee, pressed hard against his chest. Once she had him stable, she effortlessly hauled his mane around. The force turned his head towards the camera, leaving him squirming and awkward. "Tell the other mistresses,” she hissed, “And the stallion that's going actually get to fuck me, why you're about to get spanked, colt.”

He trembled and whimpered in anticipation. Paralyzed by lust as much as fear, he couldn’t seem to answer. Such disobedience was not permitted of course, but he was simply locked at the moment of verbalization.

Abruptly, he was broken out of his trance when Mistress Twilight dug her fingers into the roots of his mane. Grunting at the sting, Blue swallowed heavily, and choked out, "I'm going to be spanked, hard, because I've made my mistresses worry about my health." He swallowed hard. "Because I'm a prideful little slut who was sulking about bigger mares being mean to me. Because I should run to my mistresses and beg at their feet to protect me, not pretend like I'm a real stallion who can manage his own affairs."

By the end Blue was moaning with his need to be corrected. He wrapped his weak arms around her gigantic thigh, knowing she'd barely even feel it. He might be a squishy little slut, but he was no longer an indolent adult colt. He had enough strength, given leverage, to make some effect.

Not to hump her leg, of course not. He'd deserve much worse if he tried. No, he pushed as hard as he could and shimmied his plush rump up in the air, tail flagged like a broodmare in heat. But that was what he was, wasn't he? A broodstallion.

Mistress Twilight tousled his now disheveled mane matronizingly. "That's it," she cooed at him, and began rub her thick hands over his smooth hind end. His cock, bound and useless, bobbed upwards. Just barely in time he realized what was about to happen. Although he slid out of his ready position, he frantically wriggled around on her meaty muscles. With a breath's space to go, he managed to grab himself by the stiff, aching medial ring. Hastily, he shoved his disobedient dick down to avoid touching the mistress' thigh with it. He'd earned enough spankings.

Giggling, she cupped the cushion of Blue's right hind cheek and squeezed it between two latex clad fingers. "Aww! You remember so well, sweetie," she cooed. "Or is it that you'd like to jerk off while I spank you, slut?" He was relieved she wasn't angered by his offer of his ass followed by falling out of position.

"I… I would dearly love to, Mistress Twilight," Blue admitted softly. He'd been so hard so long, just brief moments of freedom… "But I am forbidden My offer stands to you, but I can't even hope to think you'd make use of it.."

Mistress Twilight growled at him and he let out a shuddering gasp. He could feel his swollen shaft-flesh pulse as his upper and lower halfs warred. It was the humping, animal part below the waist against the obedient adult colt-sub above. She jabbed a strong finger against the fat of his butt and he yelped.

Sternly, she reminded him, "You're my bossmare's chastity slut. Every last millileter of semen you produce belongs to her, every last drop. If you cum in one of us, it's because she permits it. You will certainly not spill her property on the floor!" Blue quaked on her knee, but couldn't help but spread his thighs further and let out a long, lustful sigh. This was the horny, aggressive Alicorn of Magic speaking, not the relatively kind Princess of Friendship.

He was in for it now. The thought made him sigh with pleasure.

At last.

Mistress Twilight's hand began to fall hard on his upturned ass. Sharp. Severe. Stinging. Not meant to cause injury, but meant to remind him that he had a duty. That it was his job to obey, and not worry the mares responsible for his health.

Yelping and groaning by turns, Blue called out, "Thank you mistress, another, please!" between each swat. He did exactly he'd been taught, relishing the buzzing, resounding slap of latex on flesh until his bare rear was glowing red.

Breathing hard, tits heaving, she loomed over him, rippling muscles bulging and tightening dangerously. Her hide stretched over potent flexion, only but barely containing the might within. His nostrils flared, his lungs burning with the pheromonic scent of her arousal.

Drool fell from Blue's slack jaw as the overawing aura struck him harder than her hand. He began to squirm in panic, thinking, What will she do to me? Have I pushed her too far?

Then he settled down, and raised his sore rear for her again. I have nothing to fear but failing her, he reminded himself. She is my mistress, and she will chastise me, but she will protect me, too.

Eventually, Mistress Twilight said, "Good. Once for every day you missed, and twice each for your mistresses that you worried." She pondered, and then forced him to yelp out his thanks six more times. Nodding, she grunted. "And three each for the Astrals who own your nuts. Am I ever going to have to do this again, slut?"

"No, mistress, no!" groaned Blue. He wanted to cry, but his tears had been shed already; he wanted to cum, but his balls were bound. As he moaned his response, she firmly rubbed his rump with her hand. She took several moments after finishing the spanks, caressing the throbbing tush and stroking it kindly. A reminder: Punished or not, he was Celestia's possession, and Celestia's enforcer mares would look after his shameful weakness.

His mistress smiled as he began to whinny softly. She nickered slowly, "Good colt. Now, up, straight." With another nod, she released his mane. Quivering, his shirt and tails causing further stinging, he slid off her knee. As ordered, he stood up rigidly, still perpendicular to her body and the camera. He shyly looked at her, curiosity in his eyes. Smirking, she shook her head. "No, not that yet. Turn to face the spell completely, then pull your dick vertical with one hand, and hold your little marbles up with the other."

Continuing to blush, Blue held his shameful cock up. He wondered if this Shadow Hopper would even bother watching this far, or if he'd already be fucking the mistress. He couldn't even think the words straight. F-f-fucking the mistress? She… He bowed his head and panted, his jaw dropping once more. What had been an occasionally suave and debonair face was now flushed with embarrassment, his eyes going wide with… with pleasure?

This is the closest I will ever come to truly pleasuring real mares like the mistresses, he thought. Was I even this close when Mistress Celestia's pussy broke my dick, when she tamed it?

"Now," Mistress Twilight said, and she arched her back, pressing her huge breasts around him. With a mild flex of her divinely strong pectorals, she idly squeezed his torso into her t-shirt's cleavage. She tucked him in like some knick knack to be stored, just for her convenience.

She reached around with her long arms, and as Blue held his penis and testes on display, she chuckled. "The subject isn't permitted to waste cum, of course," she said, resuming her explanation, "But the magic only does so much to prevent its development-- this is a conditioning measure for a naughty colt, after all!-- and so he gets all kinds of swollen. He can urinate, so we don't have to deal with his messes, but we do need to clean him up," she said clinically, rubbing her gloved fingers over various parts of Blueblood's shaft and sack. Deliciously rough handling made him bite his lip, while his mistress treated his package as nothing more than a lecture aid.

Slowly, she began to untie the cords, the first lock obedient to her touch. He hissed, as his overfull, heavily aroused nuts began to jump. Even the slightest false release left them trying desperately to produce seed for his waiting vesicles. Pointlessly; everything past was already stuffed, as well.

Mistress Twilight’s critical eye peered down at him. "If the dumb slut hadn't been so sulky, this wouldn't hurt so much," she said, frowning. Sharp pain grabbed his attention, but he managed to whine only lightly. His mistress had begun to flick his nuts idly with one strong finger, observing the slosh and bob. "These should have been drained weeks ago, but he's way overfull."

"Mistress, please!" Blue cried.

Mistress Twilight snorted and squeezed-- gently, but he felt it!-- as she told him, "My coltfriend, if I was this close? He could just flip me over, make me suck on his nuts. You? You couldn't flip my mane. And you don't get to beg off after being a selfish slut, not now." Her horn flared, and his underdeveloped musculature was outlined in violet light.

She flicked his bound balls a few more times back and forth, laughing softly. Once she was sufficiently amused, she deftly moved on to start untying the cords over his pathetic dick. "With the slut's chastity ring preventing any business or slacking, I'm not sure why Celestia needs these others-- maybe as a reminder even when it's off that he's marked as our herd's?" she said, rubbing her finger along the marks left by the cords.

Drool, yelp, and toes' curl struck Blue all at once. He tossed his horn, snorting wildly, but he kept his hands still.

The mistress didn't deign to notice at all.

Mistress Twilight dragged her fingers up and down along his pulsating little shaft, tapping the marks rhythmically. She explained, "Not welts, these; imprints. The ring and the cords are designed to prevent infection or tissue damage, but what that means is that if our colt ever gets married off." She ignored him as he swallowed heavily, not knowing whether he should pray for such or fear it. "He'll be ridged for her pleasure for a while. Build up, and even a little growth from some of the extra testosterone not disposed of by the ring."

Blue wondered. If I am given away, he posited, Loyalty would permit me out of this binding. For that matter, he knew; he’d asked Mistress Twilight once. She was never wrong about magic. But… it would mean not worshipping at the mistress' feet unless my mare permitted it. Or mares, but why would I be granted such? He didn't know. He was finally learning to be a good adult colt, a good broodstallion. Would being sent away be reward, or punishment?

Sighing, Mistress Twilight crouched down further, leaning away from him. "Fetch the gels and rags, slut," she ordered him. Still partially bound and awkward, he waddled a bit as he moved around in the tight confines of the linen closet. Once clear, he knelt down swiftly to retrieve a few bottles of cleansing gels and three rags. He curtseyed to the mistress upon grabbing them, and held them up for her approval.

With an approving smile, she took the bottles and rags and nodded. "Resume the position, slut," she told him, and he hastened to obey. He held up his balls and cock again; a familiar rhythm he hadn't been that long out of. Even if-- and this made him shiver, earning him a smirk from the mistress-- he was being recorded.

Noticing his nervous shudder, the corners of her lips curled and she flexed a wing out, feathermarking his reddened heiny. "So, we take care of the tesicles, first, since they're where Celestia's property is produced to flood back into the vesicles," she said clinically, and began to probe and prod at the swollen sack. Blue winced and tensed up, trying his best not to move out of position.

"Good colt," Mistress Twilight cooed, and he felt himself involuntarily beaming. He was back in his place, and his mistress was pleased. Literally unable to get harder, he felt his nipples stiffen and his tail flag reflexively yet again. He wasn't sure that it had so much returned to position and presented again as just switched sides.

With a little laugh, his mistress pinched Blue's sack just below his cock, holding the scrotum up for the cleaning ritual. The clasp of her fingers pushed against overstuffed tubes, making him stretch. His vision went a little white, and he had to stifle a yelp.

"Aw, poor little guy!" Mistress Twilight said affectionately as she squirted some of the gel onto his balls. "Don't worry, squishy little slut. Whimper and squeak all you like!" A lusty growl escaped her throat again as she wiggled his sack around like she was jingling a coin purse. Her eyes closed and her mega-melons swelled and fell as she inhaled. "Unf. I just bet it will make Hopper so randy to make me suck on his studly pair. Heh. I bet you could put both of these in a cast of his and still have room to spare,"

Stars danced across Blue's vision and groaned, "Mistress, I…"

Mistress Twilight frowned, then shook her head, her mane moving wildly, clearing her mind. She gave Blueblood's jawline an apologetic caress. He hadn't gotten too jowly, and other than a bit of hang, his face was still chiseled. Still in many ways the handsome look of a stallion despite the mind of an adult colt.

Of course, compared to the mistress, he had the body of a colt, too. "Sorry, little guy," the giantess told him. "Got a little too into getting my top running, and forgot to take care of my little chubby bottom," she said, and pinched his upper cheek. If there was anything of that remnant of nobility in his face that impressed her, she didn't show it. She smiled, and reached down to grope his sore, still red and glowing, rump. "Let's get on with your care, shall we?" she cooed.

Taking her time and focusing methodically (of course!), Mistress Twilight added a few more squirts of the gel to his throbbing nuts. It was cold as ever against his bare balls, but this, too, was wondrously familiar. Indeed, soothing, as it was supposed to be. My fault as well, he thought. If I'd been showing up regularly, I might almost feel normal.

A quirk of her lips told Blue that his mistress knew how much the ritual was gently laying his pride to sleep. Softly forcing him into a deliciously hazy mentality, wrapped within his dominatrix’s whim. She picked up one of the rags and began to rub it firmly over the swollen sack. Deep into his preferred place, down far into subspace, the combination of pain and pleasure left the unicorn "prince" panting and shivering. It was amazingly difficult, but he tried hard not to gyrate his hips-- he dared not disturb his mistress, even if she was feeling charitable.

In between humming little songs to herself, she continued her story for the recording. "Blueblood and Dove have been keeping Celestia's little vaults here clean and free, which is good, or Blueblood would be in violation of ritual terms," she explained. Frowning a bit, she tugged on his sack with one pair of gloved fingers.

As always, Mistress Twilight made sure to scrub the gel in everywhere, leaving no wrinkle of the overfull scrotum uncleaned. Choking back a squeal, he groaned instead. She rolled her eyes, roughly grabbed the flare of his rapidly throbbing maleness in her gloves, and firmly took it out of his hands. He promptly put them behind his back, and she smiled. "Very good, little colt," she nickered, and held his dick level, still lengthwise in front of the view of the spell orb. A light twinkle from his mistress’ horn made the orb pan and scan over his body.

His helpless thralldom was captured within the magic, just like the magic of the ritual and his mistress’ skill captured him.

His head began to swim. If mistress does gift me to some mare, I hope she'll do this to me too, he thought, dizzy. So far down, he was utterly honest with himself. I hope she'll train me to control my teenie weenie, and not bind me this badly, but…

He closed his eyes, his jaw going slack and his horn thrusting at the air. Though, he continued, I may have gone partially numb from the false orgasms, I can still feel how much this makes me want to masturbate until I'm drained. Maybe I will be in a herd, with a real stallion. Being a broodstallion means there has to be a real stallion around so I know what's better, right?

No more than a few short years ago, the thought of being humiliated for others' pleasure would have horrified Blueblood. Blue, on the other hand, knew it was intensely pleasurable for him, too. He wanted badly to remain his mistresses' slave. But slavery wasn't permitted in Equestria, and so he just hoped he'd be given to a good dominatrix-wife. He didn't think he'd know what to do as a partner-husband, after all.

Meanwhile, Mistress Twilight was still both treating his body's aches and pains-- and cleanliness-- and slinging him around like some lewd class sculpture. "So, the teenie weenie gets the same treatment, except the flare," she explained. She grabbed his cock literally in hand, able to take the vast majority of it with just her fist and the rag across the fingers and palm of her glove.

She smiled at him. "Just think, little broodstallion!" she nickered whimsically. "If you wanted to make me really mad, you could brag about getting a handy from a princess!" Blue blushed nearly as bright as his lower cheeks as she began to jerk the rag and the cold, cold gel back and forth over his cock.

After a few moments, she slowed, and her magic lifted his chin up to look her in the eye. "You surrendered your body to my use," she told him softly. "But I can't even imagine what those false orgasms feel like. So it's your choice, my little slut pony." He didn't answer. Couldn't. For all the world, he didn't even remember what a choice was in that second, so abased was the last descendent of Platinum.

Concerned, Mistress Twilight frowned. Her thumb rubbed firmly along one of the the grooves, pressing the cool gel in ungently. She kept it up until his attention snapped onto her, out of the haze of masochistic delight. "Blue," she said sternly. "Make a choice. Beg me to continue to sex it up, to force your cock to remind you again and again that you are an empty-dicked little fucktoy, or beg me to stop. If you cry stop, I'll just finish up like this, and drain you. If not… No mercy, Blue. What do you want?"

Not one to waste time, she kept cleaning him, but stopped the delicious torment of the masturbatory motions. Instead, she used her fingers on the flare to move it around casually for her to clean and scrub the gel in good.. She made sure to grind the gel onto and under the folds of his hairless sheath, wiped it along the base on both sides of the ring, and pushed the rag firmly with her finger under his flare, scraping it in a circle.

Shuddering, Blue bowed his head, his horn dipping low. Here he was, a prince of Equestria, last scion of a noble house, and his only choices were to beg for torment or beg to be treated like a stockyard animal. Put that way, he had no choice at all.

"I see, mistress," he said in a soft groan. His voice was rough and low, without his genteel Canterlot accent. Daring just a bit, he met her eyes once, and demurely fluttered his lashes at her. Lowering his gaze again, he swallowed and begged. "Please, Mistress Twilight. I'm a naughty little whorse. I'm so sorry I was a nasty slut and worried my mistresses. If it pleases you, I would love to have my cock punished by what should be pleasure."

He beamed at her, his fingers clenching at the opposite wrists behind his back. "Please, Princess," he said, smiling broader and broader, his vision going vague and his thoughts so slow. Nothing was left between him and the truest, lewdest, most bone deep needs in him. "Abuse me. Debase me. I have nothing, own nothing save that which I am permitted, but I will worship as you see fit, obey as you and the other mistresses command, only please make my dirty, dinky little dick try and fail to cum."

One of Mistress Twilight's gloved hands grabbed his horn, and for a moment, he thought he'd gone too far. Instead, she yanked him forward, the hand on his dick starting to squeeze and fondle with expert mistressy. Before his defeat in the ring, he'd procured the services of some of Canterlot's best prostitutes-- those who would risk his temper and arrogance-- but he'd never felt anything like the handjob his mistress started to give him.

And then, while Blue's cock all but screamed in agonized pleasure, flexing and squeezing and failing to climax against the bindings magical and physical, his mistress kissed him.

It wasn't tender. It wasn't goofy. It was none of the things he'd seen her give his High Mistress when he watched, seething from the sidelines. It was forceful, her tongue brutally invading his muzzle and wrestling his down as she took his mouth, hard.

It turned him on nearly as much as the handjob.

Bliss. Blue mentally surrendered the last of his princedom. Oh, he'd do his job in public. Mistress Moon would be furious if he didn't, after all. But what claim could he have on the title of prince? He was being punish-wanked by one of the true royals. An alicorn princess was masturbating him, solely for her amusement. Just to have a little bit of fun while she cleaned him up for his proper use in service to such a mighty mare.

For all that the cold and the blocked tubes pained him, the pleasure from her sturdy hand was wonderfully worse; he was utterly impotent as long as the ring was in place. Not a drop of cum even entered his shaft, not even a drizzle of lube His cock was utterly bound at Mistress Twilight's whims.

She finished abruptly. There was a brief moment of glandular confusion; his cock couldn't climax, of course. Just then, though, it felt like the moment was stolen, rather than blocked. "Th-thank you for your mercy, mistress," he stuttered. In contrast to the earlier teasing, she made the drying off and removal of the gel with the second rag a quick, businesslike process. It was a break, at least. Not a disappointment-- not that he'd dare-- but an opportunity to rest and recuperate. To prepare.

Finally, Mistress Twilight came to the flare. She squeezed his captured cock again, this time starting from below the medial ring to just below the crown with her left hand. Oh, how he hated this part, but he didn't complain. He had in the past. It had been pointless.

Now, Blue didn't want to do anything but obey, no matter where it took him. His cock was Mistress Sun's, and Mistress Twilight was her mighty hand in these matters. He obeyed, and that was ecstasy, too.

The mistress' scent was everywhere in the tight confines of the closet now. She must have had a mini-climax while ravishing him. The thought thrilled him, and he almost bleated out a squeal. He bit down hard on his inner lip, and clenched his fingers tight as rope binds over his wrists.

She ignored him, as usual, focusing on the recording spell. She grinned at the orb and said, "I hope that you come back and view that later, baby. Wanna play doctor with me spread out on your table? Or mad stud-scientist experimenting on me? Just think of what I did to the slut here, and make me pay for my wicked ways!"

Blue smiled again. He was making a contribution!

Meanwhile, his mistress returned to the matter at hand. Coughing, she screwed her face back into a semi-serious mask and said, "There's a certain amount of build up, even with the colt's forced chastity, even when he hasn't been getting drained."

She glared, and he whimpered. He'd been such a stupid, stupid, sulky slut-toy! "It's going to be worse behind the block, but," Mistress Twilight shrugged indifferently. "We make do. Besides," she said as she squirted a different gel on, "This one's a bit alchemical. It'll make him stretch so the climax isn't quite so tough on his wimpy thing."

Blue groaned, shuddering. He couldn't quite completely rest in the comforting haze of obedience and subspace here. Not facing this again. As chilly as the prior gel was, this was worse, and then her latex-protected finger rubbed into into the sensitive head. Keyed up from the combination of repeated pseudoclimaxes and the months of enforced chastity, each stroke was like pure sex poured onto his skin.

Followed by the ice chill of the gel, of course. He wanted to cum so bad he could barely see! Which meant he wasn't prepared when his mistress forced the gel-coated third rag into his urethra with her thick middle finger. The gel's alchemy worked, and he felt the indescribable sensation of his dinky dick being forced to stretch to fit the amazonian finger and the rag around it! Unfortunately, his miseries increased; he started to choke and cough, stammering, "Urk… glllghh… augh!"

A brief comedy of errors compounded things. Blue later wondered if he'd offended some deity by his pretense to assisting with his mistress' orgasms to come. It might seem blasphemous, after all.

Mistress Twilight had stopped immediately with concern. Her husky growl turned into her more sweet alto as she looked him over. "Blue? Too much?" she asked, leaving her middle finger half buried in Blueblood's magically stretched slit. "You okay, little colt?" She swiftly abandoned her grip on his cock below the flare and brought her hand up to tenderly pat his bum.

His still incredibly sore, glowing-red, well-disciplined ass. Attached to an only lightly disciplined Blue.

His mistress winced sympathetically. "Ooops," she said when Blue whimpered at the pain on his walloped hind end. It was too late; instinctively, he stumbled-- or rather thrusted-- forward, hilting the mistress' finger in his urethra.

"Gaaah!" he yelped. Oops or not, the mistress apparently decided to run with things as they were. When he tried to squirm backwards, she swiftly pinched her thumb against the underside of his trapped, stretching cock and held him steady.

"I'm sorry, my poor little slut," Mistress Twilight cooed gently at him as he shuddered and gasped. "Forgot how sore I'd left you there. However," she told him sternly, shaking her left pointer finger under his nose, "We are cleaning and prepping you. You wouldn't be this sensitive if you'd been getting regular doses. Just relax, my cushy little colt. Relax and obey, and we'll be done sooner."

She began to rub her left hand soothingly between Blueblood's weak little shoulder blades from behind. On the other hand, in front, will he or nil he, she scrubbed his urethra clean. She took her time, too, letting the ominous gel to soak in for "preparation"

"I'm sorry, mistress," Blue moaned. She just tsked, clicking her tongue against her teeth. With the mercy of efficiency, she cleanly and rapidly withdrew her finger and the rag. She was about to pat his ass again, thought better of it, and fondly flicked his swollen nuts with her left middle finger-- not much better!

She nodded at the bag. "It's time, colt," she said, and stretched his scrotum just a little more. After inspecting the swell of his pent-up package, she snorted. "I think we'll need the largest size, you're so pent up. Get the biggest bottle, the nozzle, and the stopper-- oh, and I had to use a lot of gel, too. Get a clean pair of my gloves and the disposal box, too," she ordered.

Decision made, she crouched down all the way and sat with her back to the door. Her feet tapped slowly and her wings unfurled, just a bit. She seemed to really enjoy watching the even more awkward waddle of her beloved Celestia's sperm slut as he turned to the task. He heard her blow a kiss at the spell orb again as he crouched, legs spread very wide, to retrieve the implements.

"Dangles nice, for all it's so little, ladies," Mistress Twilight commented with a lewd nicker. "Maybe the next time he slips an appointment, we should make him wear a weight on it?"

He wanted to ask whether she meant for the session… or until the next one. He didn't think he'd like the answer. Or that he'd love it, and his subspace-addled mind couldn't really tell the difference.

Blue returned to his mistress with another pair of gloves and two boxes, one large, one small. The bag was designed to accept anything that would fit into the mouth, and the larger was pretty much at that limit. The smaller was just a little cubic piece of stone with a narrow seam around the edge.

A wave of her hand indicated for him to continue. He curtseyed and knelt again. Something obscenely eager to please in him added a little wriggle and shake. The motion sent his tail and cock bobbing and bouncing. He paid for the presumption, if not by her hand. The poor thing was straining all the more now that only the ring, the unyielding ring, was left to bind him.

Still, it'd been his idea, and with neither approval nor disapproval, he didn't dare whimper again. Working quickly and neatly, Blue set the gloves down on the top of the larger box. The first priority after Friendship for Mistress Twilight was always order, and that included cleanliness and care by necessity. Swiftly, he opened the smaller box, revealing only an onyx-lined case, in which he set the disposed rags. He knew that even after the cleansing of the items he'd need to dispose of them, carefully, to prevent any arcane link.

Something of an irony, he noted, his horn flaring as he used it to mark the case with a record of a proper session. I was a lazy bastard before, when I had unlimited wealth to call upon. Now that I am an owned slut, fit only to dispense the money of my betters for worthy causes, I've learned far more about magic at my mistress' feet and pussies than I ever thought possible.

The half-ritual service he had given Mistress Twilight was repeated. It started with a new addition, that of his mistress watching him struggle weakly with to pull the latex off. She didn't quite giggle again, but she was smiling. His arms were tired, but he obeyed; he could ask for help, but he didn't want to disappoint his mistress, not again. He was cowed nearly as much as when Celestia first broke him in the ring; he hoped he'd never fail again.

Indeed, the act of serving had become its own reward. When the gloves came off, she snaked a finger under his chin and tilted him up to kiss his nose lightly. "Good colt," she called him with a broader grin. This time, the warmth and pleasure at her regard did cause a pseudoclimax, eliciting a chuckle and wink. "Lusty little slut. I wonder if you've been trained into no refractory period. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but you seem to be trying so hard, and my master was born that way."

He swallowed heavily again as she turned towards the orb and noted, "Ladies, I'm just going to concentrate on draining the slut, but if one of you wants to record seeing how fast you can get his motor running when he next gives permission, I'd love to see the highlights reel. Maybe a full-mana vibrator sticky-enchanted to his prostate?" She laughed again when a little meep escaped his lips, and held her hands up for his duty once again.

It was time to put the other gloves back on. Shorn of his doubt, Blue trembled with arousal completely now as he felt his fingers bounce over her larger hands and arms. This is my mistress, he thought, smiling hazily. I've had my punishment. I've been cleaned. What could I fear, when I am beneath my mistress' boot, if I have given her no cause to wrath? Surely even her 'master'-- he knew what the word usually meant, he'd heard mares make the offer to him enough. But he hadn't needed it when he was financed, and had been so scared until they tamed him. Surely even her 'master' would not shame her by harming me. All I must do is obey, and I am safer than if I was surrounded by Prince Armor's chosen elite.

Once the gloves were on and the disposal box sealed, Mistress Twilight reached down to pet his swollen balls. He didn't bother to flinch, and apparently, his endorphin-addled supposition was correct. She didn't mix pleasure and pain this time. All she did simply just stroke his taut flesh, soothing with the cool touch of latex. "Such a good colt," she cooed. "I'm so proud! I'll mention that you learned your lesson when I speak to Celestia today." Her face lit up as she gave a dimpled, wicked smile. "Do you want me to tell Hopper what I'm going to do to you while you get your toy dick ready to be drained? Or do you want to explain to the one who's going to actually get to fuck me for yourself?"

Blue closed his eyes and panted. "I'm… I'm not worthy to speak," he whispered. "I used my rudeness up with Mistress Rarity, and as a stupid colt until Mistress Sun claimed me."

"Awww, such a humble, demure little slut," she said, and tousled his mane again. "Okay, colt. Put the bottle and the nozzle together and on you," she ordered, and he hastened to obey. With neat motions, he pulled a rather sizable jar covered with runes-- and measurement lines-- out of the larger box.

A curious looking rubber nozzle/top for the tight entrance of the jar was Blue's next retrieval, and he screwed it into the top as his mistress explained to the spell orb. To the real stallion she lusted for, and Blue didn't even feel worthy enough to envy. "Last step," she said perkily. "Not a big shock, I'm sure, and my rump's kind of tingly with anticipation of what you'll be inspired to do to it after you see me do Blueblood's, but yeah. He's going to jam his teenie weenie into the nozzle and hold up the collection jar while I finger his cute little butt and massage his prostate until he cums his balls out, pretty much literally! He knows he's not allowed to hold any back, right, slut?"

Shuddering with anticipation, his throat dry-swallowed and he nodded. "Yes, mistress," he said, beaming up at her. "My seed belongs to Mistress Sun. My balls are hers to dispose of. Should she order you to ca--"

A snarl interrupted him. "Safeword," Mistress Twilight grunted. For a moment, he stared at her and wondered if she was telling him to safeword. She rolled her eyes, and poked his chest with a finger. "If one of us told you that Mistress Sun had ordered us to gentle you, you'd be within your rights to refuse. There's a reason even this get-up is temporary, Blue."

Looking him over, she shook her head and sighed. "I'm glad you're learning your place, little guy," she told Blue, voice tender. "But remember you're still a pony. My beloved owns the product, and controls the use of the flesh. She doesn't own you. You still have rights, and Harmony, especially Loyalty, would protect you if we lost our minds." She caressed his chin gently. "I need you to remember that. No matter how far down you go into the obedience. Clear?"

Blushing brightly, he asked, "May I beg enthusiasm, mistress?" She glared, and he did wince, curtseying again. "Should have guessed not, mistress. My apologies. I will try harder; you are perfectly clear." Safeword or no safeword, he simply could not call his mistress by her name alone without time to claw his way back up to his outside mask. Thankfully, she didn't require it.

Mistress Twilight tapped a gloved finger on his fleshy, sensitive flare. "Back to work, little slut," she ordered, and he nodded cheerfully. Grunting, he simply jammed his swollen prick straight into the nozzle. It was designed to permit such going in with relative ease, after all. Going out would sting more.

Nonetheless, he yelped a bit; his shaft was so overstuffed and every part of it bloated. Not with seed, like his balls. Ironically, the result of the magic interacting with his testosterone had actually made his still-pathetic cock grow, mostly in girth. The better to serve the mistresses, perhaps, when they accepted his offers.

Still, his cock was just a vessel at this point. Blue carefully lifted the assemblage up and leaned it against a wall for support. Breathing heavily, sweat dripping over his forehead but not, thankfully his hands, he cupped one hand under the jar to hold its weight, the other at the nozzle to hold the whole thing steady. He definitely didn't want it banging around.

"May this broodstallion present for you, mistress?" he asked quietly.

He could hear his mistress' smile in her voice. "Excellent!" she said cheerfully. "That sort of impulse is to be encouraged, little slut! Would you like to suck on my toes when we're done? I'm already going to have to meet Mistress Sun at the end of the Court."

Well! Blue had offered, but she'd been so stingy with permitting worship of her glorious body. "M-mistress," he gasped, his cock swelling against the confines of ring and nozzle both. "If it p-p-pleases you, yes, mistress."

"I'm tying that thing back up before you get to suck a damn thing, just so you know," Mistress Twilight warned.

"Mistress, please, I'm so tight… I'll do whatever you say, especially to earn the favor of worshipping your toes!" Blue groaned. He spread his legs out slowly and flagged his blond tail; he didn't need to be ordered. He was in his mistress' hands now.

Chuckling again, she noted, "I shouldn't tease you, little slut. Sorry." Whistling quietly while she worked Mistress Twilight picked up the last gel-- lube, this time. She squirted it onto her left index finger. Telekinetically, she screwed the cap on, put the lube away, and called the spell orb over for perspective. "Here we go, sweetie colt" she said gently. "You know the first ones will sting a bit," she told him, and reached her gloved right hand down to cup and stroke his overstuffed sack. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice picking up a little sternness.

"Ahh!" he gasped, and then nodded quickly. "Yes, Mistress Twilight, please, mistress! I was so stupid to balk and stay away, please, mistress, I need to cum so bad!" He was drooling now, tongue hanging open, and didn't bother to try to clean it up. He needed the draining more than anything else. Anything except obeying his mistress.

Mistress Twilight licked her lips. She leaned in close to him; he could feel her breath hot on his neck, blowing on his mane. Her fingers continued to massage his tensing, eager sack in front. Behind, she raised her lubed finger up just above his pucker and let the lube start to drool down between his fleshy cheeks.

The moment struck with the first drop, and Blue let his jaw hang slack with the sensation.

The slick, cool fluid dripped through his bare crack until it reached the quivering star. "Relax your ass, slut," she growled at him, and he knew his mistress' hyper side was coming out. So much greater than even the one he'd thought he'd had but had been proven oh, so very, very wrong.

This was the dominance-need of an alicorn princess, an alpha's alpha. Even disposing of the discipline and upkeep of a miserable little weakling like him, she was all in. Much like her finger would soon be, so he'd best be ready for it.

Blue trembled. He made his jaw shut, focused, untensing his taut rump. By dint of practice, he managed to keep his tail flagged even while he slowly forced his sphincter to relax. The daily enemas and old training helped him to do so in the first place. As did the certain knowledge that her huge finger, bigger than the cock of most normal males and futas, would be going in soon whether he liked it or not.

Pleased, Mistress Twilight nodded. "You are just a silly little colt, aren't you?" she nickered. Then she began to slowly wriggle her finger in, massaging his slickened asshole with expert care. She cooed at him, giggling as his reddened rump twitched as the familiar feel of being invaded made him jump and pant. "That's such a good little butt-slut. Are you sure you kept it to straight before? I swear, every time I get knuckle-deep in you, it's like you're trying to caress my finger with your anus."

He just whined, unable to answer. "Did the naughty, mean little slut occasionally bend over for a real stallion or a futa?" she asked, and then leaned in closer, "Or did you just wish for it, pretty broodstallion?" She found his prostate, and his whole body was forced to attend.

Little nickers and whinnies escaping his lips, Blue began to rapidly grind his hips back against her, hand almost slipping from under the jar. "Maybe being beaten,” Mistress Twilight purred, “And made a complete little muscle-whorse in the arena really was the best thing to happen to you, huh?" she snarled, and then her other hand came around to tap the little collar tag on his enchanted cockring.

Before his nozzled shaft could react, Mistress Twilight swiftly grabbed his ear in her teeth. The expert finger at his prostate made a thunderstorm of pleasure and need strike. She tugged roughly, turning his whine into a guttural wail, and growled a muffled "Cum!" command.

The magic activated.

Blue squealed louder and louder, like the broodmare his mighty mistress made him. The ring relaxed itself, growing enough to let him climax. However, it still adhered to his skin-- he wouldn't ever be free of it unless Mistress Sun herself deigned to take it off him. His orgasm hit instantly, and Mistress Twilight began to slowly stroke her left finger and its greasy slickening agent further into his suddenly clenching rear.

Thankfully, Mistress Twilight's strong digit was already within, and his anus made its accommodations with her ruling presence. She circled and massaged his eager prostate as he came. Pleasure mixed with pain so exquisitely as to make even the entire series of false orgasms seem like a light, flicking spanking. Obeying simple fluid dynamics as much as his urgently reacting prostate, his tight sack unleashed in a wave of its held-up contents.

Around the tight pinch of the nozzle, forward and back, his cock stretched and bulged as much as it could to accommodate the wad. He poured the seed-- not his seed, this climactic release. This semen, this sperm, all of it belonged to Mistress Sun and her bachelorette herd. All of it he ever made until he was given to some other mare for her pleasure. All of the white hot jizz that left while Mistress Twilight's finger worked further into him, loosening him, using him-- all of it that shameful spill, his payment, his debt.

His forceful mistress kept tugging on his ear, and Blue wondered why she wasn't inflicting the final draining on him. In a moment, he knew, the hard way. She finally got his anus relaxed enough to accept her middle finger as well, forcing him to bulge.

"How many asses were you a filthy, disgusting little colt to?" Mistress Twilight whispered. Finally, she let go of his ear as she began to press both fingers against his prostate. She knew it well from the years of violating him like this, and quickly had it back up to speed.

Blue tried to babble, but found he couldn't speak, the feelings and the overwhelming invasion was just too much. "That's okay, my little slut," she growled. "Doesn't matter. This is your life now, squealing and whining as I stretch… your… ass," she grunted and thrust again.

It took him a moment to realize why he suddenly felt so full. His balls were overstuffing themselves even as his cock helplessly emptied them into the jar. That wasn't the filled feeling, he realized through his own high-pitched nickers of pleasure. Shocked, he realized that Mistress Twilight now had three fingers in his heavily stretched hind end. Three fingers from an eight foot tall behemoth of an amazon. A muscular alicorn, vast of wing and shoulder alike. He counted himself lucky she didn't feel the need to force her full fist into him.

Then Blue remembered. She wouldn't damage him. And the pleasure he had now wiped out all the pain that had mixed in at the beginning. He couldn't stop cumming, and now, not even a tiny part of him that still thought he was a stallion wanted to. This wasn't just draining. Not just care for him. This was his reward for realizing he was lower than a bottom bitch. His blessing for submitting to his lot in life.

So he wriggled his rear for her and rutted back in smooth motions. He didn't think he had any other way of showing his appreciation than utter obedience, after all. At least not until he was properly trussed up again and suckling on her toes.

There wasn't much skill to it now; with three fingers in, Mistress Twilight mostly had to keep to fucking his sensitive prostate with her middle finger, the hold too awkward to to get all three quite so deep in. So she used them to spread him just a bit further, back and forth, back and forth. She pressed her other hand up, almost tenderly, under his nuts. Her strong hand rubbed and fondled them as they pumped sperm out.

She made a game of it. Of stretching out his rectum and feeling up his spasming nuts. As she played with him, as he came himself dry into the jar, she kept cooing out the names of the various other productory glands and parts. No, not a game-- as though she was ordering them all to produce all the spooge they could. Perhaps she was.

Eventually, Blue gasped a final time, his climax having doubled and even thirded under his mistress' skilled assault of his owned ass. When the orgasmic bliss wore off, she kept pumping for a few moments further. "So you know," she growled, and left him sore inside and out.

Finally ceasing her motions, Mistress Twilight hissed, "Remember this, slut. Remember that while I will protect you, and I will take care of you, I will not be made to worry, nor my sisters-of-soul, because you sulk!" As he fell forward, barely twisting his head to avoid impaling his horn into the wall, he just let out a moan.

She caught him, of course, her strength easily supporting him in his weakness. At long last, his balls were no longer able to send sperm to join the rest of a process that had quit as well. The jug had drooped; his flare was awash and soiled in his own seed. Her horn flared as her wings slammed shut. The jar glowed an answering magenta, the magic cleaning its cargo of any traces of oil or other contaminants from his still-stiff, utterly empty cock.

Mistress Twilight nodded sternly. She guided him down by the cock until the jar was resting on the floor. She commanded the ring to re-tighten, and he felt his brief freedom disappear again. He couldn't honestly say he missed it, not at this moment. Fiercely, he vowed mentally to force himself never to be a sulky little slut again.

More realistically, he thought as the endorphin high gave him a moment of clarity, if I think it's happening again, I need to go to the mistresses, first.

"Pull yourself out," Mistress Twilight ordered. "Then clean up; my gloves last after I tie you back up, slut. You'll see Rarity in three days, or I'll ask Celestia to put you under permanent assignment to Luna. I'll admit my failure to the Sisters before I let you endanger yourself again. Am I clear, Blueblood?"

Blue didn't dare merely moan. His throat dry and scratchy, he whispered, "As you command, mistress." And it would be so.

She smiled, ruffled his mane, and smirked. "Get to it, broodstallion," she purred. "You've got toes to suck, feet to lick."

Bliss.

Epilogue

View Online

Twilight hummed happily to herself. It had been a very good day, yesterday. She'd taken care of one of her subs, Celestia and Luna were both pleased with her, and now… Now I get to steal some Hopper Time, she thought cheerfully. Glee! Hopper's recovered from his training with Luna, the length of which gave me time to recover from the Sisters' enthusiastic reward for me at dinner last night. She'd slept through the whole day after they'd used her, or rather, Luna had used her on Celestia's behalf

She'd show the girls her pretty scene later, but for now, she wanted to see how long it would take her to get Hopper to fuck her. To grab her. To fuck her good and hard. Glee again! The massive alicorn skipped and wriggled like a little filly as she checked with her magic and located Hopper. Her smile broadened and her wings flicked with anticipation. Oh good, one of the private rooms! she thought. Such a good boy, probably trying to study. She nodded gravely She, of course, had a teleport key, and popped on down.


Shadow Hopper yawned, and flipped a page. Then he flipped it back, careful of the small pages. His huge fingers had more delicacy than one might expect, but there was still a problem of scale. At the moment, he had a larger problem: his vision blurring. From tiredness, yes, but also from boredom and frustration.

"It's not particularly that I mind studying," he mumbled. "But I still need to get better at casting Nap Stack before properly translating…

Twilight leapt straight out of the teleportation field, right at her coltfriend's unprotected back. Yep, she thought. Studying like a sexy stud ought. He might be a titan, but she was an amazon's amazon, the next one down the rung from him in pure strength, and she had the advantage of surprise, skill, and speed! She'd make it nice for him too, rub her perky nips right into those handsome wings of his.

Whumph! Squish-squish-squish.

Hopper didn't notice the sudden impact against his back. Half a ton of enthusiastic, muscular mare didn't even budge him. His wings did instinctively begin to rub back against the plush majesty of her mountainous melons. Their reaction did not satisfy her, though.

He kept on muttering, flipping pages back and forth. "... from the original pre-Germane Coltic, and…" Not even the adorableness of his continued studying and muttering would save him from the wrath of Twilight Sparkle! Sudden, cotton-clad softness enveloped the back of his head, resting on his shoulders, and pointedly rubbing against the sensitive spire of his horn.

"Oh!" said Hopper as he blushed brightly. "Twilight! I thought you were still sleeping off, er, you know, with the Sisters, and…" He coughed. She growled something down at him, but he couldn't quite make it out.

"I'd rather you didn't move, but," he said and coughed again. Taking advantage, he gently flicked his ears against the soft, thinly clad breast-flesh all around his head. Eventually, he sighed and said, "I can't hear you through your boobs, Twilight. Could we just snuggle like this for a bit?"

Glaring, she smacked him across the ears. Which is to say, she shook her heavy breasts back and forth roughly over his ears. Having thus Chastised The Inattentive Coltfriend, she harumphed, teleported his book away and flipped over and beside him on the couch.

"No," Twilight told him with an indignant sniff. "You're going to cuddle me. There will be no snuggles for you. Just for me." She ignored him choking on that, of course. It certainly wasn't laughter. Sticking her tongue out at her big lug, she informed him, "You are also not exempted from studying."

Blinking and stunned by his overenthusiastic marefriend as per usual, Hopper managed an intelligent, "What?" and instinctively wrapped a sturdy arm around her strong body. Cooing happily despite his witty retort, she uncurled her body to his side

Slinking out along the rest of the couch, she happily rested her head atop one of his great thighs. She smirked, summoning an orb of magic. "You keep asking for practical examples," she said with a sniff. "Well, you're not getting any footage of me and the Sisters… yet…" she said, and took a deep inhalation of his sudden arousal spike.

Nudging her horn's length just lightly along the massive bulge in his shorts, she rumbled, "Mm. Not any footage of us yet, I said… but you will be expected to watch, listen to my critique, and come up with an appropriate response of me demonstrating how a true dom turns a sub into a quivering, blissed-out fucktoy."

Hopper coughed still yet again. A shy blush ran its way down from his forehead and out through his cheeks, along his throat and across his massive chest and broad shoulders. His wings flexed out again, and he muttered, "I am so totally okay with this course of action." He corrected himself. "Study. With this course of study."

Twilight released the orb and had it levitate in front of them. She smirked. "Let's see what you learn," she purred. "I'll be expecting practical demonstrations… shortly.


Slam!

Part of Hopper winced as he noticed the couch he'd been sitting on disintegrate. Of course, as was starting to become an annoying habit, his shorts had gone that way as well. They hadn’t stood a chance, thanks to Twilight's constant cooing "self-critique" of her dominating Blueblood. Those had gotten his body tuned up and on; it hadn’t taken long for his self-control to burst. Followed swiftly by his clothing, handily aided by her aggressive gropes of his package as she cuddled up against him, her head in his lap.

He wasn't really sure what had been happening on the playback at this point. His interest in the projection had mainly been watching his marefriend, in thinking about what he'd do to her. The practical, as Twilight had said. Required, really.

As a result, the intriguing little scene she'd decided to play for him had become little more than background noise to his internal war. To the strain between desire to be attentive, polite, and … and something. The strain between the shy side of himself, in other words, and the extraordinarily randy side. The dominant, growling lead stallion under his reticience.

He'd thought he'd known how much it would influence him.

He'd been wrong.

It hadn't taken long for her constant comparisons, her absolute confidence and utter power over Blueblood, to turn on the most raging hormones in Hopper. He'd earned a swat from her repeatedly for bouncing his legs in ardent anticipation. The swats hadn't hadn't hurt, of course; they had, however pushed him. Pushed him further into the constant pressure between his desire to be polite against his mounting desire to mount this beautiful, bitchy mare snaking her buff body against him.

Sweat had dripped off his face. His sky-blotting wings had stretched and flexed until Twilight had yoinked one and tugged. She'd scooted her amazingly fat booty right up into it and added an extra curl to her sinuous "being snuggled" motions. He was still under the ban against snuggling. For his impertinence.

Honestly, that last statement, said matter-of-factly while she was… doing something to the once-proud prince's ass? Spanking it? Finger-fucking him? Something. Had probably pushed the matter from internal conflict between what he thought of as loving coltfriend and horny stud into all-out…

Reaction.

Precisely what Twilight Sparkle wanted. As usual.

By the look on her face as Hopper hauled her up into the air by her throat and kicked the couch out of his way, both sides of himself had won. An attentive part of him noted that he really needed to remember that she wanted him to top. No matter what he'd convinced himself of before.

Twilight met his fierce glare and hungry, panting growl dead on. The eight foot tall amazon had a hungry stare, her tongue pressing in and out of her mouth in little flicks that had nothing to do with the quest for air. She grabbed his meaty forearm with her two big hands and hauled herself up a bit, giving herself space to speak. He gave her a horny growl, not trusting himself to converse properly.

Tossing her beautiful horn to flick sweat away, she flexed her huge arm muscles, pumping her sixty-inch peaks out hard. "What … took you so long… stud?" she grunted,, and stretched her powerful legs out wide in a mid-air split. Strength and flexibility let her easily heft them up to parallel with her waist.

A quick curl of her taut abs, the rigid muscles straining against her tee, let her haul her deliciously curved hips around and hefted her groin up. She maintained the split, held the curl, and began to bump and grind mid-air. All so she could be certain Hopper could see exactly where her jeans had been soaked through in the crotch. Again.

Oh. Well then.

Hopper's eyes flicked right, and yep, sure enough, utility closet. Not exactly the same, but it would do. The huge, nine feet and change stallion flipped his hyperzonian marefriend over his shoulder-- "Whee! Somepony better not be this hair trigger when my pants are off!" was her comment-- and stomped over towards the closet, slamming it open.

Clearly enjoying herself, Twilight continued to giggle. She reached her wings up to teasingly featherflick his horn and smooshed her enormous breasts against his stiff wings. Ever the multitasker, she even trailed her hands possessively over his broad, muscular back.

It was… not humbling, not challenging, but heartening. Heart-warming, even. No matter how hard she drove, she cared for him. A master? In a scene only. For all intents and purposes, he was hers else.

Hopper grinned. Of course, she was his, too, even if her affections were broader. Though, where they reached, he wanted to follow…

Whatever his personal musings, he kept on track, and Twilight kept right on teasing. "You know I don't have a cock to re-enact everything on, right?" she said cheerfully as he stepped inside. With a roll of his eyes, he wedged his wing around past her huge tits. As she let out a pleasured purr, he closed the door behind him, flipping on the lights.

"Whatever," he grunted, panting heavily. Hopper pulled her around as he re-centered himself. Her idea or not, "cooperation" was not on the menu. Certainly not Blueblood's mewling, panicked submission, even if she was every bit as horny or more.

No, the mini-giantess in his grasp writhed rapidly, fighting him every step of the way. She tugged hard at his wings, reveling in his resistance to damage. "Eee," was her first comment, followed swiftly by, "Full contact fuckt-- I mean, fucktop? Fuck buddy-- Ack!" She yelped as he spanked her. But she retaliated swiftly tickling under his arms after he thwapped her nose with the same wings she'd yanked on.

Finally, Hopper managed to get her off his shoulder and into the tight space in front of him. She smirked, but he rolled his eyes. He replied to her earlier taunt at last, saying, "I'm not insisting on everything. I just like the idea of having my sub in a tight, confined place, unable to escape." His girthy prick, free of the last shreds of his shorts, reached out to grab Twilight around the left of her waist.

His lips curled into a smile, and then he flexed his groin. The twitch of his prehensile member yanked the smaller alicorn as close as the fourteen inch plus girth could manage. Meanwhile, the seven feet and change of length curled tightly along Twilight's musclebound body..

Eyes aglow, she nickered lustfully. The warmth made her smile up at him; the lust swiftly inspired her to rolled long, strong tongue all around her lips and blow him a flippant kiss. Immediately back at her favorite interests, she brought up her firm hands once more. Since her stud had so kindly brought her in for a view, Twilight enthusiastically began to squeeze and fondle at her field of interest for today: Hopper's huge, deliciously virile balls.

Moaning, she caressed each gurgling, droopy mass, encouraging more and more productivity from the immense spunk-spheres. All but ignoring him, she cooed and petted them slowly for a while. Finally, after he spanked her titanic breasts twice each, she let out a happy hiss, seemingly suddenly aware of the mammoth male attached to the mammoth maleness.

Grinning up at her coltfriend, Twilight wriggled happily in his mega-member's entrapping coils. "Not going to let me keep these all pent up, stallion?" she asked, leaning forward and smirking broadly at him. "Going to show me how a real stallion treats his-- willing," she said with a gentle wink-- "Mare when she's being all bratty?"

As she gave Hopper's musky nuts another teasing stroke of her fingers, he growled again. Huge hands grasped her thick wrists, pulling her hands away and up over her head. "However did you guess?" the giant stallion said with a wry tone. It quickly turned into a snort as she gave him an impish smile and stood on one leg.

With lewd abandon, she arched her knee up to adoringly rub her jean-clad shin and foot against his package. He frowned a bit, and then flared his horn, summoning up a teleportation spell. Before it could manifest, however, he let the energy drop when she shook her head and gave him a pleading pout.

"Please, Hopper," she groaned. "Shred 'em off me. I'll pull 'em back together with your shorts and the couch later, promise, but…" Twilight leaned forward, flexible despite the huge swell of her muscles and arms. She bowed completely forward and going over double to kiss Hopper's veiny dick,. Her horn lightly caressed one muscular thigh as she went to work. Then, fire flaring in her eyes again, literal sparks, she looking up straight at him. The fire spread to her very heart and she hissed, flexing and writhing in his cock's grip. "Shred 'em off me, stallion, please! Ravish me good and hard, however you want to do me, but make me feel yours all the way."

He responded, not with words, but with action. Huge hands encircled her colossal forearms, thick fingers wrapping on tight. "Score!" she yelped gleefully. Still growling and rumbling, he loosened the curl of his oversized shaft around her body.

Just before she could object, Hopper snarled, and shoved her back. She groaned lewdly as he slammed her wrists back against the wall of the proportionally tiny closet. He slung her loosely with prehensile prick and prodigious arms, her big feet whacking carefully stacked and organized tools out of the way.

He saw the OCD pout in Twilight's eyes at the chaos, but he didn't give her time to object. The lessons had taken; he knew the best way to propitiate a cranky marefriend.

So he just gave her what she asked for. He forced her wrists to cross above her horn, pinning her against the wall with them. One big hand held both amazonian wrists in place; the other spread fingers wide. With a half-blush, half-smirk, he brought his squeezing hand up to her big rack. With a deep growl, he fondled her titanic teats for a few moments before dragging his fist closed. Potent fingers bunched the already taut-stretched fabric into his grip and pulled back, hard.

Rather hard indeed, it seemed. He'd clipped just a bit of her bra between two fingers along with the shirt, but that was enough. Her giant U-cups were slapped free as the lacy material was shredded by the pull. Her dark, stiff nipples jiggled and bounced with the force of it all. A long, exuberant wail of pleasure escaped her throat. "Yes!" she cried. "My sweetie-top! Rip! Shred! Strip me hard!"

Hopper had to admit that seemed a bit of a brutal way to put it. But the scent of her, and the tensing, relaxing, tensing vibration of her muscular body, well. She was clearly demonstrating her enthusiasm for the clothing-destructive play. So he continued, pulling off the last shreds of clothing from her prodigious chest.

Twilight herself, giant amazon or no, swung forward as he destroyed her top coverings; then back, bouncing off the wall. "Oooh, lovey-master," she said with a groan. The reverberation sent her mega-tits bobbing and vibrating as the larger remnants of fabric sunk down behind her and got tangled with her eagerly flapping wings. Her toes curled, and she used the leverage of his hold on his wrists to arch her back, thrusting her colossal mammaries up towards his face. Her stiff nipples throbbed as her face flushed and eyes rolled back into her head.

The closer look at her delicious chest actually made him pause for just a moment. Seeing little red marks as though he'd flogged her all over her juicy melons was… concerning, but as she moaned and whimpered with her aromatic arousal, he figured he was okay. Nonetheless, he waited a few moments for her. Not that he was idle; instead, he roamed his free hand over her muscular belly, fondling the taut abs. When she failed to safeword, he just let his prehensile erection play.

To Twilight's excited squeals, he willed his vast length make a girthy coil. It reached around her and braced against the trapped shirt fabric. When she threw back her head with pleasure, tilting it to the left to avoid banging her horn into the wall, he knew the time was right. He flexed his groin, and his deft shaft tugged hard against the wall and down. The swift yank utterly completed the destruction.

No, she didn't object to the unplanned overpressure at all. Instead, she looked over at Hopper, her eyes lidded. Tremors of euphoria ran through her, and she cried out so hard he almost stopped the scene anyway. A poor choice or a good one, he'd be hard pressed to tell.

The pause, accidental or not, misinterpretation or not, gave Twilight time to recenter-- and to beg. Her face screwed up as she forced herself to remember how to speak. More, how to plead, her upper teeth running over her lower lips before gasping, "H-hopper, please!" Please what wasn't specified; more than likely, please everything.

Her needy squeal went right to the root of him, the pleading desire all but guiding his cock directly to slap between her heavy melons. She participated whole-heartedly, not letting a little thing like being bound at the wrists and suspended off the ground stop her. She might not be able to escape, but she didn't want to. Instead, she wielded her amazonian strength on both of their behalf.

In a move that had him drooling at the sight and splurting precum straight from his shaft, she pulled heavily on her trapped wrists. While her arms flared, especially on the titanic triceps, she flexed her pectoral muscles in and out swiftly. The shift of her massive U-cups atop the potent chest muscles swiftly ground her soft flesh over Hopper's rampant rod. As precum coated the underside of her muzzle, she ducked her head and began vigorously worshipping his flare with her tongue.

He knew that this wasn't the time to be idle with the rest of him. The sternness melted; he could hold Twilight, but he couldn't hold back the goofy grin at just how much this mare did for him. Did to him. As he felt her beg all the swifter for his lube with her tongue, he curled his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, and her panties. Still loving, still a bit worried for her comfort, he looked over at her, giving her a moment to object to him ripping her clothes off in one go, straight over her drooling cunt.

A yes is a yes, Hopper told himself, But… I… He felt nervous nonetheless. Her enthusiastic yes deserved respect as much as a no would have, but still-- destroying someone's clothing was something he'd been more or less brought into existence knowing was Against The Rules.

Twilight paused in prenching her tongue into his cumslit, looked straight into Hopper's eyes… She lingered for a moment, let him see the brightness and enthusiasm in her visage. Her gratitude shone. It felt like she was both grateful for his acceptance of her wishes, and his desire to not overstep her bounds.

Once she had his attention, she pulled back slightly, and nodded once.

She didn't bother telling him to go on. Didn't snark. No, she just stretched out her maw as wide as she could, muscular control letting her force the Hyper Stretch onto herself. Without even touching him. She waggled her tongue, an essentially Twilight tease, then bobbed her head again rapidly. By sheer force of will and body control, she forced herself to take his whole, enormous flare in her mouth, cheeks bulging and jaw distending.

As encouragements went, it was fairly spectacular. Her tongue swirling its way across his vein-laden skin helped him comprehend and internalize the 'yes' as well.

"Gotcha," he said, throat catching and voice a little hoarse. Hopper pressed his hand further into her skintight jeans, until the fabric was severely strained. Until it seemed ready to tear itself apart, just to accommodate that questing, molesting hand. Down, down he went, until his fingers reached the soaked crotch of her panties.

Pushing down firmly, he took care to make sure his mare wasn't given the wrong kind of friction when he pulled back hard but slow, snapping the waistband of her underwear and jeans alike. The jeans, already strained by the fact that Rarity insisted on making them just a little too tight to show off Twilight's intense curves, began to shred all over.

So she flexed her thighs. Because this was Twilight Sparkle, and so of course she did.

Where Twilight's muscles bulged and caught the fabric, big holes tore; where her hips were hugged sweetly, great rents pulled out. She clenched and tightened the massive quadriceps, but mostly, she let him do the work. They both loved every moment of it.

He took her, he knew that now; the surrender of her nakedness was not just a gift here. He was taking her, making her vulnerable and exposed, with her consent, and he suddenly understood just why she wanted it so much. She gasped around Hopper's cock, and looked up at him as he continued the gradual but unstoppable destruction. There was a gurgling sound as she inhaled hard, cheeks flattening against his cock's crown. For all the stretch, she found more to press, more to caress, her full mouth and tongue given over to the adoration of horsecock.

He met her gaze, saw the burning lust and unquenchable need there. Wordlessly, he continued to force the pseudodenim to shred around Twilight's nigh-invulnerable legs, watching Twilight bob her head back and forth over his flare all the while. Felt her tongue swirl in desperate adoration as she kept her eyes locked on his. It was nearly more than he could take.

Hopper's huge dick began to bulge, just slightly. Precum splattered out faster from the tip, up into Twilight's eager mouth. The combination was undeniable; the pure sensation of her expert blowjob and the knowledge that his force, his acknowledged strength over her wasn't just something she wanted: It was something that turned his amazonian mare on like little else not held in Celestia's hands.

Groaning, he leaned forward and gave her horn a good, long lick. Together with her motion, he carefully ran his tongue over the spiral as she rapidly moved her lips, her whole head, over his drooling dick. He pressed his teeth gently against the base, holding her in place for a moment. He just let the sensation of her muffled groans continue the intense pleasure for his pulsing pole, then released her once more.

Deliciousness. Hopper tasted the sweet, almost wine-like-- not flavor, but perception-- of her magic as it sparked and flickered against his tongue. It made quite the delicious counterpoint to the feel of her cheeks bulging impossibly wide as her mouth stretched to accommodate the sheer girth of his flare.

He held Twilight's wrists above her mercilessly, but supporting her own weight was less than a feather for the mighty giantess. The only trembling in her bulging limbs came from her continued effort of pec-bouncing her heavy tits. The whole time, she pushed herself, sweat dripping over her naked body. Raw strength, raw strength and muscle control were her tools, and with them, she used her U-cups to squeeze and fondle around as much of the squirming, active length of his super-sized shaft as she could.

He reveled in it, his shaft pounding back up against the motion of her mouth while he continued to tease sparks and sensation out of Twilight's wildly waving horn. It was an odd contrast, the brutish giant delicately teasing a thin spire, the smaller amazon full-torso humping the massive cock in front of her

No. Perhaps not so much odd… as compatible.

But he did not neglect her request, either. Wherever pseudodenim clung stubbornly behind her, or pinched between amazonian muscles, he yanked it away. Where precum and sweat-stained t-shirt buried itself in her cleavage, he thrilled her; he simply reached in and took it. Her eyes burned bright and her flarejob grew greedier each time he demonstrated his dominance over her thusly-- at her request. Indeed, for her need.

When even the last shreds of her clothes were gone, Hopper decided it was time to fill his mare with even more sensation. And other things.

As Twilight's legs flailed wildly, suspended above the ground, he pressed his middle and index fingers into her sopping, winking slit. He started slow, but increased tempo rapidly as his fingers refamiliarized themselves with her most secret pleasures. Soon, he was pounding her with them from below while his cock ruled her mouth with a fresh burst of lube. He certainly didn't neglect above, either; his lips pleasing her horn with fluttering patterns up and down the glowing spiral.

Caught between her coltfriend's multi-pronged pleasuring, it didn't even take her long enough for Hopper to get his thick thumb down on her stiff little clit before she started wailing in climax around the heft of his cock. The thrill of it rippled through her amazonian body, her clenching cunt drenching his hand with her orgasmic juices as her core curled and flexed. Eager to return the favor, she inhaled sharply through the nose and forced herself down further over the mass of his crown, sucking hard in between each squeal of delight.

Wail and suction alike vibrating over his girthy length, the huge youth groaned, circling his thumb rapidly over her clitty. Her far more expert ministrations left him not far behind on the wave himself, and when she wrapped her flexing, bulging, powerful legs around his arm, squeezing as hard as she could and only just holding on-- he let go. Not of his grip on her wrists, but on his pleasure. Cum joined precum, a rich, potent wave pumped straight into her greedy belly.

All throughout his own climax, Hopper didn't let up. Determined to earn his place with her through every aspect, including stamina, he fingered her slit with the skill of their frequent recent practice. Though his muscular body shook and trembled with his relief, he focused circles on her clit. Dutifully, he kept himself from becoming lax or repetitive, frequently switching and changing patterns to better pleasure the spasming cunt. All the while, his multitasking improving, he began to draw long slurps of his tongue along her horn, but it didn't seem enough.

Not for someone as special to him as Twilight Sparkle. But then, remembering what his honey loved, still growling and groaning from his own climax, he whispered in her ear, "Spark it up."

The command, the growl, the eagerness to learn her horn's pleasures-- Hopper couldn't say what pulled his lover over, but she hummed another scream around his shaft. Swiftly, her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and her face flushed in full pleasure. She obeyed, splashing her horngasm's phantom sparks everywhere.

Suddenly, he felt an even more potent orgasm strike him, felt his balls and the surrounding vesicles swell once more. Fucking her face hard, he cried out Twilight's name, arching his back and forcing his flexible cock further. It invaded her bodily, grinding between her breasts, up, around, then in her mouth and straight down her throat to claim it deep. Cum that had only seemed overwhelming was joined by gallons upon gallons. It rapidly overfilled her hard little belly-- if not hard or little for long-- with a doubled wave of his thick stallion seed.

The two climaxed messily together. Hopper's ropey ejaculate swiftly fattened the amazonian mini-giantess' tummy out to a smooth, round bulge as she soaked his hand and covered the room in little glowing illusions. Backlit and forelit by hornflare, the oversized stud grunted as his orgasm finally ceased.

Wickedness, or at least, the in-scene version of it, possessed him. Despite what he knew the reaction was likely to be, he rudely started to pull his body-stretching cock back from Twilight's hungrily sucking mouth. His mare, naturally, protested vigorously. Her first tactic was to try to hold him in through sheer, cheek-hollowing suction. When that failed, she switched to following as far as she could with her lips.

At last, cruelly bereft of cock by her oh-so-mean coltfriend, she turned a last, terrible Twilight Maneuver upon him. Her eyes watered and seemed to grow in size. Her lower lip quivered, and at last, she by pouting up at him. "Hey! I was still drinking that!" she said, then brushed away a single tear with a wingtip-- her hands still being quite held fast.

Hopper snorted, and gently slapped her cheeks with the messy, sticky cockhead, marking her with the white spooge. Her eyes filled with delight that only slightly dimmed when he quickly pulled his oversized package away when she tried to lick it again. Still suspended, she wriggled with anticipation, licking her cum-stained lips.

A spark in her eye warned him he'd better keep things hot and heavy, or he'd get more than just Told. Thus ever is the fate of those who try to quench the lust of goddesses from the top.

So he affected as stern a posture and and expression as he could, and narrowed his gaze. "Don't care, mare," Hopper growled, and pulled his other hand out of her powerful leglock. He quickly slipped it around and pulled up on her wrists to escape the giantess' lusty hold. "Still gotta make sure you know your place. And whose ass gets filled around here."

The eager alicorn mare wriggled faster and grinned all the more. This, apparently, was much more like it. Soon, though, her wrath for his daring to take the cum away before she was finished guzzling slipped in.

Nonplussed, Hopper just quirked an eyebrow as she flipped him off with both trapped hands. "Youuuuuurs," Twilight declared with perhaps a bit of a giggle in her attempt at a threatening growl. "Your ass gets filled, worse than poor little Blue's! When I get down from here, I'm going to go spelunking! No lube!"

Something primitive, primal, and easily baited in the back of his head went 'twang'. Perhaps like the spring of a trap; perhaps like a very hormonal and pheromone-soaked stallion. He knew she was just playing her role, or rather, just playing him. Nonetheless, something in him responded to the "'threat" with an emotional roar that rang in his ears. Hopper knew exactly what his mare wanted: to provoke his role reversal fetish. To fill him with the urge to retaliate. To prove how much he owned this mare.

And why not indulge? He knew how to cut loose and hold back equally. She had her safeword; he had the measure of her now. His lips curled back; not a smile, but not precisely unhappy, either. He felt his brow tense, and his vision go a bit hazy, his wings flexing behind him.

All the while Twilight kept her middle fingers raised, wriggling them a bit. "Do it, two-bit seedwasting chaff" she told him, her voice going low as she put her best sneer on. She began to flex her curvaceous legs once more, lewdly pumping her yet still curvier hips. Even her drenched pussy's ardent wink seemed to be challenging him.

Not that her other lips let up, either. She rolled her tongue across them, then spat at his chest, saying, "C'mon, wimp--" that got a response! An enraged reaction thrilled through him and he stomped the floor hard, shaking it despite the reinforcements. He glared at her, his squeeze growing tighter on her wrists. He couldn't decide whether to just plain stuff that ass, or wipe his chest off with her vast tits, or, or...

Feral or close to it, the rapidly unleashing lust must have shown in his face. Twilight narrowed her eyes and gave him a savage grin. "Bet you can't," she told him, making another obscene thrust-wink combination from her groin. Her head tilted to the side, her corded neck tensing. "Bet when you try, I put you on the floor, put both of these--" wiggle wiggle went her thumbs-- "Deep in your wimpy stallion ass and then vomit up your useless stallion seed on your backside, make it mine, 'cos I'm going to -eEEEekk!"

A distant part of Hopper reflected that it might be something of a disadvantage that his mare knew exactly how to pull his strings like that. Most of him though, didn't give a shit, and just wanted to be balls deep in her. She wanted to provoke him into wrecking her rectum? Fine. She was the one who told him how well her ass had been trained; time to put it to the test, again.

Twilight's sentence trailed off into a squeal of a squeak as he yanked her wrists and pulled her up hard into the air. He tossed the proud alicorn, though not far; he remained ever careful of her horn and person alike. She yelped, flaring wings that could serve as mansion doors to stabilize herself.

There wasn't a lot of room, so by the time she hit the floor on both feet, she was collected enough to try to prolong the play. A little chase, perhaps, mini-giantess amazon and her massive "captor" run-around-the-room. She faked a low lunge for his fat cock-crown, but ducked right to try to squeeze around her bigger coltfriend.

It didn't work. If her wings could have made vast doors, his monumental body alone was wide enough to match, even with his own vast, dark feathered expanses tucked in. Even in a utility closet built for hypers, there simply wasn't enough room. Hopper caught her across the chest with his log of an arm and flung her back, flipping her around to face the wall.

Her aroused giggling might have been a bit out of place, but again, neither really cared.

As always, she didn't give up, or at least, not simply. She flailed and kicked, trying to turn around, but never quite making it. Pressing himself closer and closer, nearly a story tall, a literal monument to the concept of strength, he boxed her in. If his cornering wasn't expert, it was at least enthusiastic amateur.

It only took a moment of fumbling around with Twilight's arms to lock her down. All the while, her wings battered back at him enthusiastically, snapping and cracking like thunder. Eventually, he caught her burly limbs together over his right forearm, locking his elbow in place. He snared under her wings, and pushed up to prevent even her impressive flexibility from permitting her egress from the hold.

That wasn't the end of it. She didn't spare him from kicks, not when she knew how much Hopper-- how much her stallion-- could take a real fight without flinching. As she whaled away at him, alternating between cursing him and squealing in pleasure, he forced her thighs apart. He grasped her left knee and hauled it up with his left hand, bracing her out of alignment. He'd learned from her, from Luna, from various instructors over the years, though perhaps only she and Luna knew how he would be using their grappling lessons.

The full-body hold flowed easily, form following form. With her left leg locked out, he pressed his right leg inside from hers, his foot over hers to plant it down. He had her trapped.

He had her trapped just where she wanted him.

Twilight's gorgeously muscled body flexed and bulged as she threw all of her force back against lock and hold. Biceps swelled, quads tightened, vast, smooth ripples of power forcing with all the strength of a warmage-goddess. Just where she wanted him, indeed; she couldn't even shake him. "Hopper!" she roared at the last, half a protest and half… well. The flexing of her beautiful bubble butt and the hard flag of her swishy tail spoke somewhat differently.

The scene all but paused. He could see her in profile, her lower jaw slightly slack, brow furrowed, ears fully perked up. Her tongue rolled and curled with each panting breath, her giant breasts squeezing and rubbing her fat nipples against the cold wall. Though now she surrendered, about to get her "punishment"-- her punishment of her chosen reward-- her wings couldn't stop twitching, flicking against the unyielding bar of his arm. Need drove her, even as his need held her in place.

"I'm going to make you mine all over again," Hopper said softly. "All the way." At that, her rugged form did relax, just a little towards the top, but a readying relaxation down towards the rump. Tail moved, squishy, jiggly rumpcheeks trembling, she was ready.

So he thrust forward, his giant fuck-pipe member curling with his motion to claim Twilight's deliciously perfect ass yet again. Precum was splurting out before it even shoved those juicy, purple cheeks aside. By the time it penetrated her tight ring, they were both roaring out, each with a triumph all their own.

The oversized horsecock that ravished Twilight's eager anus was already well-lubricated, of course, thanks to her enthusiastic blowjob and the messy results thereafter. Well practiced at relaxing in the first place, she forced herself to accept the stretch, the massive member nearly twice as wide as her open hand was long.

Twice as wide in the main length, that is; at the medial ring, let alone the flare that was railing her, it was far, far bigger. An ecstatic howl reminded him that was just the way she liked it. But she had wickedness in mind, as always; wickedness in mind to pleasure them both.

The instant Twilight's ass distended completely around his flare, her well-cleaned anus pulled back tight around it. She waited until he had the blunt expanse of it in… Then the moment his prick popped in, she clenched down anyway, tightening as hard as her body could while his stallionhood dominated her very structure and shape. She did it for them both; the sensation of fighting, of her sensitive arse being forced to submit was her sweetness.

The conquest of that inexorable tightness was Hopper's. He plowed her good and hard, thrusting deep with his hips. The relentless pounding turned her proud, amazonian body into one long condom for his gigantic member. He felt it all the more when her tightness squeezed rebelliously against his invading member, and then relaxed as she made good her promise that being this rough with her was safe. She pulsed pleasure upon his potent prick with the combination of surrender and surrendering struggle, clenching and relaxing in waves that made him cry out in shocked euphoria.

As he loomed over her, well-built chest heaving, vast wings flapping-- knocking the occasional item off a shelf-- he slowed his approach. He pressed, and pressed, and pressed the pony-sized mass of maleness into her divine rump. Every inch seemed to redouble his insistence even though he was taking a steadier route. The pure sensation of it made his flexible member swell within her well-trained rear as it buried itself deeper within. Grunting and moaning, he clenched his jaw almost as tight as his lock on her, lest he blow his wad too soon.

Though she had surrendered, she made sure to continue "fighting" back, squeezing and releasing her muscles and sphincters over his lovely fat prick. He thanked her by recovering the scene, by snarling and taking control of his pushy sub once more. "Did you think your belly was already bloated, cunt?" he growled at her, felt her shiver over his shaft. "I'm going to fill you so much they'll think you're trying to smuggle the Griffonstone Ambassador around in your gut!"

Well, control to an extent. Twilight began to writhe and circle her hips, rolling her well-padded super-ass over his monster cock. Whinnying in pleasure, she cried out, "Promise… unnnnnnf, Hopper, promises!"

Promises have to be kept. Hopper wasn't exactly sure what the Pinkie Penalty would be her, but contemplating doing otherwise wasn't really in him right now. No, he needed to be deep in Twilight Sparkle-- balls deep in that juicy, jiggly, bouncing rump. The huge cumspheres in question needed to be slapping against that ass, spanking it, battering it and her thighs from without while his shaft battered her from within.

So he plunged still further forward, his cock diving further into her and distending her from behind. Cum-filled from above or not, her belly rose out as he made her ass his personal property-- for the moment. He stretched not just it but all of her, his mammoth obscenity forcing her stomach to re-shape, to conform to his length. Once he had her belly condomized, he smirked, then fucked the whole mass up into her cleavage!

"Mine," Hopper nickered quietly, and leaned in to kiss and nip her neck. "As much of you as I can claim."

Twilight squealed, bucking her hips back against him and showering the floor with the wetness of her arousal. "Mmm, got a good… oh… oh Hopper, you've got a good claim-- and do you really mind who you share this bitchy mare with?" she said with a saucy wriggle around his pounding prick before exclaiming "WHhHHhoooAaaa woo-HOO!" as his pulsating shaft abruptly throbbed and expanded yet again inside her.

Imagery has consequences, or some such thing.

The very thought of double-penetrating Twilight with Celestia taking a strap-on to her pussy inspired the already accelerated lust in the young stallion. He managed to growl something he hoped was negative on the matter of minding sharing. Or positive on the matter of sharing. Or just in general, positive on ideas from the direction of Twilight Sparkle in general.

Honestly, Hopper was more focused on showing his appreciation for such wonderful promises!

Showing it by stretch-fucking Twilight's eager rear until she couldn't see straight. Ducking at the knees, his own still yet more mountainous legs bulged out as he began to swing his whole body into the motion, pound-fucking her. Since he had her braced against the wall, this soon began a sexquake. Reinforced building or not, the walls shook as huge, mare-covered dick slammed up against it between said mare's tits. Tools and other supplies toppled, the lights flickered, and still, he just kept on pistoning forward! His lube flooded her, just his precum splurting out like a hose, like a river to force-feed her gut from behind. He kept his promises, kept them deep and hard in her needy asshole.

No. Deep and hard in her, period.


Eeee, was Twilight's thought on the matter. Going to have to try to see if we can go longer in the spell-recall next time and get me fucked harder still. Rainbow of Light, my ass needed this fucking, fucking badly!

Not that any part of her, precisely, was less than needy! Caught by a far stronger giant deep in a lustful "rage" of her own making, Twilight moaned eagerly. Each time he rammed his huge dick in her, rammed the wall with her atop his prick, her wings fluttered all the harder in the cage of his vast muscles.

She was done with fighting back; now she wanted to encourage her stud for being a good big, tough, top. Half-delirious from pleasure and nigh-subspace, she pondered asking him if he knew he was her big cutie berserker dom, yes he was, so adorably overwhelming, yes, precious, but figured that might be a little too much. Also, she was having some distinct problems making sounds other than orgasmic screams of delight. A definite plus, but it made teasing hard.

Twilight squeezed her body around Hopper’s oversized shaft. Teasing… hard! she thought. Hee!

She discarded the idea anyway, realizing she'd been taunting him pretty hard. Twilight turned the flicking of his wings to a new purpose, then: appreciation. The long feathers stroked at his chest rather than battering now, petting her impossibly strong honey-master adoringly. It was time to take a final step, though.

The boy's earned it, she thought dreamily. Sure, I prodded him, but he's actually met my expectations!

It was time, indeed. Time to give Hopper her submission, not just her asshole's utter obedience to his colossal cock's conquest, but her willing surrender to her master. Though her whole body shook from the force of his pistoning prick, she stretched out her neck and held it, thick muscles trembling.

Again, her stud, young and just a week in training, picked up on her signals promptly and properly. Hopper took immediate advantage of the offer, ducking his head to lip all over the extended hide, nipping little hickies here and there as he slammed into her. For all the immediate surge of pleasure, finally, she managed words. "Ma~a~aster," she moaned. "Love you!"

It didn't take much more than that, just a few slaps of his enormous balls against her heavy thighs, to bring her over. Just from his cock in her rear, just from his dominating mass above her, just from that and she lost herself, the world going white as she thrashed. Twilight Sparkle squealed her paean to pleasure, and her ardent, sadly empty, pussy squirted back all over the gigantic nuts of the titanic stallion owning her curvaceous bubble butt.


Hopper wasn't done yet, though. "Close," he moaned, about the only word he could manage beyond, "Close, Twilight, so close!" He slapped his hand away from her wrists, needing no anchor now other than the tightness of his shaft within her. Instead, he reached up in front, boxing her wings in tighter between his mountainous peaks. The odd fluttering strokes continued, agile wings curling and caressing along the massive bulges.

She would have been furious, completely climax-silly or not, if he'd pulled back from the scene's potential, and he knew that. As his hands came around, she tensed up between him, ready to start fighting if he didn't accept her submission. But it was his, and she was his, and he took her, seizing her shuddering knockers by the nipples, two fingers each rapidly rubbing her nubs in time with the pounding.

Twilight whined, not angry, but greedy for seed. With her arms freed as well she brought them up under the thick cables of Hopper's forearm muscles, stroking and petting them pleadingly. She was begging, begging with her fingertips as she whinnied, ears flicking, just wanting him. His cum, in her.

It's nice to be wanted.

Hopper reached up with his mouth for one last nip, or so he thought. But as his teeth lightly grazed the corded power of her throat, instinct surged. He tossed his mane back and leaned his muzzle up, seizing her ear again between his teeth. This time, he didn't let go.

Twilight's squeal turned into a crescendo. She slammed back against him as he pulled her ear back and thrust forward, from the hips. The force of it, prick now far past her cleavage and above her head, stretching her body out, had his hands suddenly buried in the pendulous expanse of her massive mammaries. As she wailed, a new orgasm washing the old one away completely, he added his own, the seminal vesicles swollen behind his massive nuts unleashing an incredible wave into her belly.

Out and out his seed poured into her battered butt; out and out her belly swelled, the fertile magic of her alicorn body accepting the heavy wad . He felt her flex all the more around his shaft, clinging tightly to prevent backwash, felt her help him keep his promise-- or the next best thing-- to fill her belly to griffon-smuggling proportions.

As Twilight's cum-greedy squeezing brought him over to a doubled orgasm, Hopper vaguely hoped she'd be able to teleport one of her plugs in, or the mess was going to get really, really extreme...

But that was alright. It was more fun that way.