When we have shuffled off this mortal cook
The scent of roses and jasmine. That's not the first thing Principal Celestia remembered, but it was a very close second—wafting off an array of scented candles that flickered across the lengths of her apartment living room, casting a scarlet glow over her burgundy drapes, auburn couch cushions, and plush crimson carpet.
The home owner in question lay reclined on a comfy fold-out bed emerging lazily from her sofa. Silk sheets covered the lengths of this makeshift mattress—which was the first thing she remembered—that and the apple-red negligee loosely draped over the woman's figure. The garment's black lace edges barely covered the naughtiest of points along Celestia's body, all the while caressing her upper thighs and pert nipples with a teasing velvet kiss.
She chanced upon this luscious scene with a smile, feeling as if she had a third eye that could see herself... admire herself as she desired to be desired, with her long smooth alabaster legs poised in such an angle to appear both angelic and demonic, like she was a buxom nymph posing in a frozen-free fall, framed in silk. She cooed to herself, running a hand back through her long pastel locks, each follicle dancing with a heavenly shine in the candle-light. Celestia smiled at this too—a slinky portrait of femininity with a negligee “bow” scarcely censoring the most precious portions of her, waiting to be unwrapped.
As the brief cloud of narcissism drifted through the pleasantly-scented room, Celestia reached a dainty hand towards the couch-side table. She found a wine glass half-full and palmed it with nimble fingers. After swirling the contents slightly, she lifted the container to her mouth, taking a liberal sniff before an even more liberal sip. The wine rippled cold and soothing down her throat, and soon it pleasured her senses with a relaxing tingle, preparing her body for the inevitable firecrackers to explode along her exposed goosebumps. She put the glass back where she had found it, smiling slyly at the crimson lipstick stain left on the edge of the container.
And then she smiled for another reason. This had been enough time spent waiting. It was now the chance for someone else to admire her... someone whom Celestia could always count on to be utterly flabbergasted at the sight of the Principal's overwhelming sexuality... this wonderfully wicked present that she had so delicately prepared. And when her precious little thing was near-faint from the sensual overload, that would be the moment she would pounce.
And ravage him.
“A-a-ahem...” She melodically sounded-off, pivoting herself sideways with a leg curled up to expose the majority of her ivory-toned thigh. “I am ready for you, my pet.” She kissed the air, batting eyelashes into the candlelight. “Do come, won't you?”
There was a slight delay following her summons—which should have been Celestia's first clue that something was amiss. All adverse thoughts swiftly vanished—however—the moment the door to the kitchen did finally open up. The smell of roses and jasmine merged suddenly with the virgin-sweet scent of sugar and fudge. But that wasn't all that entered the room. Celestia's bosomy heart skipped a beat as she saw the playful shade of pink in two places—one across his cherub cheeks, and the other flimsily draped to the front of his supple young body.
The handsome student known as Flash Sentry entered the woman's sultry domain, walking on bare feet that shivered with each tentative step taken across the plush carpet. Her eyes traveled up his subtly athletic baseball player legs, relishing in each and every one of the thousand goosebumps—(she counted them all)—that manifested at the sight of her majesty. At long last, when her admiring eyes eagled their way towards the young man's groin, they were coyly blocked by a veritable napkin of pink pastel-gingham, bordering with lace that tickled the wearer's thighs and undoubtedly caused him no end of fuss as he made his way towards the Goddess in the room. Flash Sentry was wearing a pink apron; and judging from its size it would fit better on a cocker spaniel than an eighteen year-old high-schooler. Nevertheless, there it clung—pink and playful and diminutive—doing more to highlight than cover the seraphim smoothness of Flash Sentry's hairless chest, with the upper bust of the garment lacily garbed to protect breasts that didn't belong to him.
Also, he carried a cooking tray full of delicious brownies in two adorable oven mitts. That was a nifty bonus.
“Mmmmmmm...” Principal Celestia's eyes traveled up and down his body once again, meanwhile her free hand slowly did a similar number to her own. “You found my note, I see.” A kiss blew between them, riding the warm fumes of scarlet candles. “How does it feel on you?”
“I... uhm...” Flash's cheeks reddened more. His voice squeaked with nervousness, and Celestia wanted to devour him then and there. “...it's... a bit chilly?” His upper legs squirmed, and a gasp escaped Celestia's painted lips as the lower hem of the apron flounced a bit too much—ultimately revealing nothing beyond the brief, lacy tease. “I... guess I was making brownies for you.” His jittery eyes darted down at the tray he was carrying, and he lit up with a crooked smile. “Yup!” Perspiration formed along his toasty-golden brow. “Baking brownies! That's... that's what I've been doing all this time. In the kitchen.” He gulped. “W-wearing a frilly pink apron.”
Celestia traced her luscious lips with a red fingernail, squinting at her lover in deep, rich thought. She was used to him being a squeamish little basket-case in most of these encounters. She enjoyed it... in fact she relished it. But—for some reason—he was a great deal more awkward than normal. Amused at the change in normalcy, the older woman put on a hungry smile and decided to roll with it.
“Well, that's because you enjoy doing everything I tell you to,” Celestia purred, adding a wink for emphasis. “And we both know that Mommy rewards you in the end, yes?”
Flash blinked. “Mommy?” His cute face contorted into a cuter wince as his eyes darted nervously back and forth. “You m-mean she's here t-too?!?”
Celestia laughed. With a misty toss of her hair, she sat up slightly and cocked a bare shoulder while giving him a smolder worthy of Lilith. “You're so silly tonight.” She pointed a finger at the couch-side table. “Put the treats down for a moment, my pet.”
“...?” Flash looked at the floor, gazing for something scampering around at ankle-height. Then—after a goofy pause—he blinked back at the woman. “Oh. That's me!” He threw on a bright smile and sashayed towards the table. When he bent over to place the tray of brownies down, he blushed furiously... suspecting the Principal's eyes were locked on his posterior. And he wasn't wrong. At last, he stood up straight, reaching down to smooth the “lengths” of his apron—a deliciously futile gesture.
“Now...” Celestia lay back on a hill of red pillows, propping herself in such a way that her own bosom framed the sight of him in black-laced parentheses. “...do a twirl, my precious.”
The barely-clothed student squirmed—which was an adorable appetizer for the moment to come. Taking a courageous breath, he pivoted his toes like a novice ballet dancer and performed a blazing-quick pirouette. He came to a premature stop, his azure hair flouncing above a crooked smile. “Uhm... ta-daaaaaa?”
The Principal's brow took on momentary menace as she narrowed her eyes. “Slower. Do it again—slowly—my pet.” Her idle hands lingered at the devil's workshop that was her lower abdomen. “Let Mommy see the sweet, generous plaything that decided to bake for her tonight.”
Flash bit on his bottom lip, looking in no small part like an over-sized toddler about to cry. Celestia's third eye lingered on that the most... until the obedient young man gave her something even better to admire—or better yet two things, afforded by a slow and skin-flushed rotation of his whole nubile frame. There was nothing to protect his backside from Celestia's encroaching gaze—aside from a tiny pink strap tying the entire ensemble together just above his goosepimpled tailbone—and the daggers that were Celestia's pupils were hankering to make short order of that. Flash then gently surprised her by turning around not once... not twice... but a total of three times in order to soften the shudders of the moment. She approved.
Another throaty sound emanated from the reclining woman, deeper than a panther's growl, and soon Celestia was sliding herself over to the edge of the mattress cushions. Somehow she did this without a single silken centimeter of her negligee sliding out of place and exposing her lover to the treasures to be had. “Such a good pet. Now...” Her eyes went to the tray of brownies while her finger did a come-hither motion. “...let's have a taste of your obedience, hmmm?”
Flash shrugged like a stiff mannequin, hobbled over to the table, and swept the tray up in two plush oven mitts. “I'm guessing that... uh...” Clearing his throat, he squatted down at the couchside, fussing with the best way to prop up his two legs without exposing a third from beneath the dainty apronlette. “...you've got fond memories of the Friendship Games. Heh... remember?” He threw her a nervous smile. “The Home Economics portion of the competition?”
She winked back. “I much prefer Home Wrecker Economics. Don't you?”
“Uhhhhhhh... sure?” He reached in for a brownie slice. “Anyways, about remembering stuff, I think I should tell—”
Thap! A manicured hand clasped his wrist.
Startled, Flash gawked like a cornered deer at the older woman.
Her eyes were a great deal calmer—locked on his teenaged expression, scrutinizing—as she leaned in, clasped the edge of the oven mitt in two pearly sets of teeth... and slowwwwwwwwwly slid it off his hand.
“... … ...” He watched the moment oozing by. “Ahem. Yeah... that's a thing, alright.” Swallowing a lump down his pallid throat, Flash used the exposed fingers to better grasp a single brownie square. “As I was saying, I've been sent here to tell you something, Principal Celestia.”
She chuckled warmly, her eyes traveling across his boyish shoulders and exposed collarbone. “So I'm 'Principal Celestia' tonight, hmmm?”
He held a brownie between trembling fingers. “Uhm... Yes? I mean, when are you not?”
“So formal. And yet so naughty.” She leaned towards him, lips pursing. “I love it.”
His head leaned slightly back, weighed down by sweatdrops. “Uhhh—”
She took a moist bite of the brownie, her perfumed face just inches away from his nose. She made a show of the closeness, eyes rolling sultry and serene as she cherished the sugary fudge exploding in her mouth. “Mmmmmmfff...” Another bite, this one even closer, and she managed a soft exhale between chewing motions. “So absolutely decadent, my my good and fertile student.”
“Heh...” He squirmed where he sat, grasping another brownie to feed her with. “How is it? Does that taste like 1969?”
She giggled in a high-pitch, her body curling up against him in a brief show of giddy girlishness. Between the sugar and the closeness of her lover, she cracked a crumbly smile. “Like I would know such a thing, you little scamp!”
“Me neither.” He fished for another brownie. “I was born roughly a year before 9/11.”
“Mmmmm...” She purred, fingers spidering up his shoulder now. “Sexiest thing I heard all day.”
“Right. Sooooo...” He placed the tray on his lap, pulled the last oven off, and coughed into a sober tone: “Principal Celestia, I think now's a good time for you to know that—”
“Shhhhh...” Celestia's fingers found their up way to his button nose. She pressed, gently at first, then with authoritative firmness. “Enough pillow talk.” Her rosy eyes flickered with the candle-lights. “I crave dessert, my pet.”
“Dessert?” Flash looked down at the tray. “But I thought we were just having—”
“Come.” And her strong arms yanked his petite form off the couchside and straight into her bosomy center.
“Gaaaah!” The tray of brownies flew from his hands as he yelped—sounding like the girlish figure he was apron'd to emulate. It was a far more coquettish noise than Celestia was accustomed to hearing from him, but it only fed the furnace inside her all the hotter. As he tried stammering something else—a pansy protest, perhaps—she devoured it by devouring him, ensnaring his lips with her own, capturing every wet whimper in an even wetter moan. The young man's tongue shook as if with a mute scream; Celestia knew this because she was entangling it with her own, tickling his perfect teeth and savoring the taste of his startled breaths as they gunshotted tenderly between them.
That wasn't all that was explored. She threw the two of them back—until his petite frame was practically swimming atop the sea of her tall, buxom womanhood. Once there, she squeezed him tight with two needy arms, pressing his palpitating chest to her diamond nipples. The two writhed under her frenzied guided motions, her tiny negligee and his even tinier apron threatening to unravel at any moment in their fragile dance, submerged in sensual heat. All Flash could do was blubber into her scarlet lips as they ravenously painted his precious face scarlet.
And soon those whimpers grew louder—as Celestia's hands wandered viciously down his back—flying like tomahawk missiles to their target. Once there, she grasped a palm-ful of teenage flesh in each hand, her index fingers snaking in and out of the sensitive ravine demarcating his baby-smooth posterior. The red nails occasionally poked sharply—making devilish threats in the direction of the helpless high schooler's back door—and when his suffocating breaths produced a frightful yelp in response, she immediately swallowed it down with a lusting groan that vibrated through the both of them. It was too precious a thing not to repeat, so she drew yet another yelp from his lungs with a swift slap to his ass... followed by another... and another.
Once these salvos had satiated her, Celestia's fingers mercifully left his reddened rear, fishing their way now up the teenager's shivering spine—delighting in every light ripple and muscle tone—until they found their way to his gorgeous head of hair. Once there, Celestia threaded and teased and tugged and toyed with the forest of sea blue follicles until she could scarcely keep the heated dam in her center from bursting. It was the older woman's turn to shiver—for the energy empowering her hands to fondle his scalp had now rivuleted back down into her torso, exploding with a gasp that finally parted the ardent Frenching that she had so boldly initiated twenty suckling centuries ago.
“Oh my fucking God I love you so much,” she trilled, her lips practically smoking. She devoured Flash's mouth with a new wave of sensuous kisses before the poor thing could so much as squeak forth a reply. Her fingers once again dug through his sapphire hair as she squeezed her trembling treasure tighter and tighter, as if purposing to form permanent impressions of her areolas into his pecs. “Mmmmmm—” A smacking sound, and she leaned her forehead against his as she breathed down his lipstick-marked features. “Tell me how much you love it, my pet.” Another kiss—also deafening, also sloppy. “Tell me how much you enjoy making Mommy wet!”
Flash sputtered, eyes rolling. He wheezed forth his first utterance in known history. “Pr-Pr-Principal Celestia...”
“Yes. Yes!” She had spun the two of them over by now. She lay on top of the young man—dominating, smothering—as two hands ran over and under his apron, finding nipples to pinch and a navel to tickle, eliciting more squirms as she lorded over the rose-scented scene. “I'm your dirty dirty Principal... and this is Deflowering 101.” She pressed her body—and breasts—down into Flash as her hands wandered lower and lower between pink gingham and golden flesh. “How to Milk a Twink.”
“I... I need t-to tell you...” He cooed. He heaved.
“Yes...?” She suckled on his nose, lips, and chin. “...Yes???”
“That...” Two moist eyes squinted up at her as he smiled innocently past a flushed grimace. “...you've been in a coma for sixteen hours now. And I've been sent to wake you up.”
Celestia froze like a popsicle in lingerie.
Her fingers stopped just above Flash's little Flash, handcuffed in pink and white lace. She blinked so hard that Australia could feel the shockwaves of her sober expression. “What.”
He gulped, reached a hand up to wipe away lipstick smears—and repeated: “The Sirens. They came back, Principal Celestia. It was during the joint pep rally between Canterlot High and Crystal Prep. You were standing at the podium along with Principal Cadance and Dean Shining Armor when the three evil girls attacked with a crazy magical blast.”
“This...” Celestia leaned back, her lips pursed in a dumb, dumb stupor. “...this isn't part of the fantasy.”
“Do you remember, now?” He sat up as well, propping himself on lithe, trembling arms as he squatted atop the silk sheets in her shadow. “It all happened so fast. Cadance and Shining got zapped first. You tried warning the students—telling them to run away from the scene. You even charged the Sirens head-on when they got to you!” He managed a blushing smile. “It... it was actually quite brave.”
“What...” Her voice took on a brief tone of melancholy, like a schoolgirl discovering that her brand new tricycle had been broken. “What is this...?” Celestia started covering herself in a futile gesture, her body recoiling slightly from the boy. “Who is this?”
“It's me! Flash Sentry! Well...” He smoothed out the apron—also a futile gesture. “...it's kinda me. Truth is I'm sitting in the school infirmary. Sunset Shimmer is... like... creating this sort of psychic link between us—”
“Psychic... … … Link... … …?”
“Yeah. Y'know?” Flash's blue eyes brightened. “The Geode of Empathy? Anywho...” Flash waved a hand as he glanced casually down at the mess of brownies spilled over the couchside carpet. “By joining hands, Sunset can sorta... join the minds of two people—even when one is unconscious! It's like... that thing from television. What's-it-called... the 'Vulcan Mind Meld?' Wookies do it all the time on Dr. Who, I think.”
“I'm...” Celestia gazed across the hazy room full of surreal scarlet candlelight.
“Did you know that the latest timelord is a lady now?”
“...being mind-probed?”
“Whew. Heheh... we live in crazy times, don't we—?”
The whorishly-dressed principal suddenly reared up in front of the boy, snarling: “Sunset Shimmer shoved you into one of my deepest fantasies?!?”
He recoiled from her, clutching a silk sheet to himself like a blushing bride. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—” With nervous sweat, Flash braved a smile. “First they tried reaching you with Luna. Focusing on some sort of cherished, childhood memory to provoke a response? But—like—none of that worked. So it was Luna herself who suggested we... erhm...” He coughed delicately into a balled-up fist. “...go deeper... and moister.” A gulp. “Sooooooo Sunset did some exploring...”
“No...” Celestia grimaced, chewing on her nails as she looked at her “treasure” up and down. “No no no...”
“And she found that you had a particular series of... dedicated fantasies that clung to the center of your subconscious. And... uhhh... I guess the best way to reach you would be to inject a participant who matched the subject of your imagination and—”
“No no no no no no no—” She viciously yanked the blanket away from him and hoisted his apron up. In exposing his crotch, she revealed... nothing—save for the pixelated equivalent of a broken jpeg. “Where the fuck is it?!” She howled at this point, teeth barred. “What the fuck did you bastards do with it?!?!”
“Just...” He held two hands up, shivering. “...just try and calm down, Principal Celestia.”
She couldn't stay calm. Someone had maliciously Ken Doll'd her Adonis. She held a pair of hands over her trembling face to dam the sobs in. “Mmmmmmmmm—ohhhhhhh sweet Cat Stevens...”
“It's... it's gonna be alright! I promise! I've come to get you out of here! Don't worry! Lemme just... uh... confer...” Flash then looked over his shoulder and called out in a raspy tone: “Hey! Uhhhh... I think she's lucid now! What do I do next?!”
Her pupils shrank. “Wait.” She gaped at him. “Are... are you communicating with Sunset Shimmer right now?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.” Flash hollered over his shoulder again. “Yup, she's lucid alright! She uncovered the Censored Richard and everything by now!”
Celestia was seething again. “Is she actually seeing everything that's going on in my mind right this second?!?”
“I dunno.” Flash shrugged. “Probably. Maybe.” He scowled at the drapes. “Look, what do I friggin' do?!?” A beat, and then his face scrunched. “How the Hell am I supposed to 'induce mimetic severance'?!?”
“Oh god...” Celestia bent over, clutching at her hair. “Oh my goddddddddd—”
“...through 'superego enforced trauma?'” Flash blinked. He then responded. “Oh. Just freak her out, then. Well, why didn't you say so?”
“Flash...” Principal Celestia cleared her throat, lowering her tone into something that desperately—but flimsily—emulated the professional that she was used to him being used to. “Everything you've just seen... everything you've just experienced...” She stifled a whimper. “I want you to know that I... I-I would never ever...” She struggled to finish that, instead pivoting to: “You have my utmost respect and under no real-life circumstances could I possibly—”
“Hey, so like...” Flash looked up at him. “You and I have got an age difference, right?”
“... … ...” Celestia blinked. “... … … … …. ...it has occurred to me.”
“So I'm eighteen now, and that's cool and all.” His eyes narrowed. “But do you remember the first time you and I met?”
Celestia fidgeted, looking away from him. “Uhm...”
“School orientation? I was in eighth grade. Transferring over from Green Valley Middle School.”
“Yeah...” She squinted warily at him. “...and?”
He looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk. “Hit it, Sunset!” There was a flash of light. Flash Sentry shrunk two feet smaller in size. At the same time, a Call of Duty: Ghosts t-shirt appeared on his tiny figure, along with poofy cargo shorts and crocs. When he looked again at Celestia, his face was riddled with acne.
“Oh dear Christ!” Celestia reeled in her lingerie.
Flash smiled, revealing thick braces over his teeth. “Hello, Mitth Thelethtia!”
“AAAAAAAAAA—!!!” Celestia barrel-rolled off the mattress, falling in a silky tangle of loose bedsheets.
The young thing crawled over, leering down at her from couchside. “I'm gonna tranthfer over next year! Do you have any muthic electiveth? I'm third chair flutitht in Band Class!”
“Fuck... fuck!” She covered her face with crossed arms. “Get it away from me!”
He next whipped out a fidget-spinner, twirled it into a blur, and smiled under wagging eyebrows. “Do you lithten to Fall Out Boy?” His retainer rattled inside his wet mouth. “Danthe, Danthe ith my jam!”
“WAKE ME UPPP!!!” Celestia hollered to the heavens, pulling and clawing at her own flesh. “WAKE ME UPPP!!! PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! KNOCK THE SPINNING TOP OVER!!! ANYTHING!!!” She howled and heaved as her form slowly Infinity Gauntlet'd away, layer by ashen layer. “I DON'T WANT TO LOOK AT IT ANYMO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-ORE!!!”