> How to Escort a VIP > by concordion > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Part One > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s midday, right before the start of his shift, and Doublemint, an Earth Pony in Princess Twilight’s Castle Guard, can already smell trouble: Boot, their newest recruit, has been in Guard-captain Mantle’s office getting yelled at for almost ten minutes. Mantle never yells at Boot. There’s no way he is being disciplined: Boot follows the rules to the letter. He’s a model Castle Guard. He knows every regulation, keeps a precise routine, and spends much of his spare time training for some attack that will never happen, not in Ponyville. He also has a vision of how a Castle Guard should act, even if Doublemint and the rest of his squad don’t quite match that vision. For instance, Boot is adamant that, at least in other castles, Castle Guards don’t fuck their Princesses into sweaty, whimpering messes every night. Wild. Also for instance, a Guard is supposed to check his armor if he leaves the castle during his off-shift; Doublemint rather prefers the respect other ponies show him when he runs errands in full dress. But it’s also unlikely Boot is complaining about one of the rest of them. He’s never once complained or gossiped about any of them, has never insulted or attacked them. He treats them with respect when required and otherwise ignores them, which suits Doublemint and the others just fine. The strongest reaction they’ve been able to pull out of Boot is a thousand-mile stare when his Guardsmates plow his beloved right in front of him. Whatever. Twilight is a consenting adult with her own needs, even if she squeals like an underage filly during Twilight time. Why shouldn’t they enjoy what she offers freely? Muffled shouting floats out. Doublemint shares a look with the other off-shift Guards. Boot never gets yelled at. Just as the shouting reaches its climax the door to Captain Mantle’s office opens. Boot marches out, and Doublemint thinks it’s ironic that Boot looks like he’s been stepped on. He’s got a black eye, he’s covered in bruises, and something has scraped his neck and chest. He’s walking with a slight limp that he clearly won’t acknowledge. His eyes are dead from a lack of sleep. But Boot wears his injuries with pride. He takes his lumps and handles them with minimal fuss. And Doublemint respects a stallion who sticks to his principles, no matter how at odds they are to the status quo. Once, in a castle far, far away, Boot might well have made a good Castle Guard. “What’s wrong, Boot? Your girlfriend beat you up?” a Unicorn stallion named Coppertop teases, to sporadic chuckling. Boot ignores him and leaves for his shift. “Coppertop!” Mantle calls out. Coppertop grins like an idiot. “Busted.” “What now?” Doublemint asks. Coppertop shrugs innocently. “I’m sure I don’t know. Certainly it can’t be about whatever Bulwark and I got up to last night.” “Oh.” So it’s true. Princess Twilight’s Castle Guard is a small unit. Just over a dozen athletic, attractive, bored guards live in the barracks, with four or five of them on-shift at any one time. And the barracks aren’t exactly spacious. Rumors don’t stay secret for long, and the latest say that, during a recent dry spell with the Princess, Bulwark and Coppertop took matters into their own hooves—and mouths—and haven’t stopped. “Well,” Doublemint says, trying to suppress a grin. “She was bound to find out eventually. At least now you won’t have to sneak out.” Coppertop turns and stares at Doublemint in shock. “But that’s half the fun!” “Coppertop!” Mantle shrieks. “Yes, Captain!” Coppertop snaps-to and joins the Captain in her office. Doublemint rests on his cot, watching the clock. His shift is about to start; too soon to do anything except wait, but he’ll be damned if he starts early like Boot. So instead he busies himself wondering what sort of punishment Coppertop is facing and trying to make out whatever they’re saying. Nothing heated, no yelling: either Mantle is in a chill mood (not likely) or she doesn’t know about Coppertop and Bulwark (also not likely.) The door to the barracks bursts open. In walks Princess Fucking Twilight Sparkle, smelling of lavender and attitude. Doublemint snaps-to without thought, as do the others. The Princess of Friendship walks with her nose up, avoids eye contact, and pretends the rest of them are statues. She is stunningly gorgeous, as always, and the sight and smell of her send Doublemint’s heart racing. The last time she visited the barracks of her own volition she was wearing a set of green stockings; Doublemint and the others didn’t let her leave until well after midnight. Instinct and practice have him looking for the slightest hint of green or yellow, but today Twilight is wearing a bright red ribbon in her hair. Damn. On red days it’s all he and his cohorts can do to keep up their charade, to watch her and pretend not to know exactly what the fine specimen of royalty looks like underneath them, groaning and writhing like a whore. Doublemint keeps a little green choker of his own in his armor at all times, just in case, and suspects most of the others have their own setups. But it’s been a while since she’s been down here, and it’s a rare enough occasion that Doublemint has to wonder if things are about to shake. Guard-captain Mantle’s door surrenders to Twilight’s crackling magic. Twilight has a habit of entering unannounced. Moments later a surprised Coppertop is tossed gracelessly out of the office, and Twilight’s magic seals the door behind him with a sizzle. “Trouble?” Doublemint asks Coppertop when he makes it to all fours. Coppertop leaps up on his bunk and stretches out. “Nope. Either Mantle didn’t know or didn’t care about Bulwark and me. And I wasn’t about to share.” “So what was it?” Coppertop laughs. “Get this. She was asking about Boot!” Doublemint glances at Coppertop, then back at the closed office door. The yelling has already started. “Boot?” “Yeah. She asked me if I knew where Boot was last night, and where he got those bruises.” Something in the office goes thump. “Twilight, obviously,” Doublemint says. Today isn’t the first time Boot has arrived in less than mint condition. When he won’t give Twilight what she demands, she tends to get a little assertive. He’s possibly the only pony that Twilight beats up, and he never flinches. “Right?” Coppertop shrugs. “I was telling Mantle I had no idea when our beloved walked in but, yeah, probably.” The door rattles on its hinges. “I’m not sure she believed my ignorance,” Coppertop admits. “Glad I’m not Mantle right now,” Doublemint says. Coppertop agrees. “Glad I’m not Boot. Ever.” The door sizzles and slams open. Twilight prances out, a small smile on her face. When she’s not scowling Twilight is positively enchanting. Doublemint wants to walk up to her and slurp up just a little bit of that happiness, whatever its cause. That he’s not allowed to share it makes it all the more tempting. But he knows the rules and likes his job and so keeps still until Twilight leaves the barracks, humming some tune. She slams the door shut and the air pressure inside the barracks increases briefly as Doublemint and his cohorts all exhale as one. Mantle steps out of her office, a horrible scowl on her face, and looks at Coppertop and Doublemint. “Inside,” she orders. Her office is cramped. Coppertop and Doublemint have to get very cozy to fit at the same time. Mantle doesn’t waste time with formalities. “Doublemint, you’re assigned to Storage Locker duty until further notice.” “What?!” “That’s, ‘Yes, Captain.’ You’ve been warned about wearing your armor outside during leave.” Doublemint gasps. “Coppertop was fucking Bulwark!” Mantle rolls her eyes. “That’s ‘Yes, Captain.’ And for the record, Bulwark was fucking Coppertop.” Coppertop grins. “Wipe that fucking smile off your face. You’re assigned too.” “What?!” “What about Bulwark?” “Shut up. Both of you.” Mantle glares at them. “The Princess requires an escort tomorrow evening, around dinner time.” “What for?” Doublemint asks. When Mantle doesn’t answer he adds, “Uh, yes, Captain.” Mantle hmpfs. “I’m sure I don’t care. She assured me she doesn’t need an escort, of course, but I made life difficult enough last time that she doesn’t care anymore.” A small, proud smile. “She promised to stay in Ponyville all the same. You both will escort the Princess, keep her and her guest out of trouble, and return her to the Castle when she’s done. Impress me and I may reconsider stuffing you in a storage locker everyday for the next month.” “Who’s the guest?” Doublemint asks. “Don’t know.” “Where are they going?” Coppertop asks. “Don’t know,” she growls. “Why—” Mantle stomps her hooves on her desk so hard her family pictures rattle. “If the next words out of your cocksucking mouths aren’t Yes and Captain, you’ll be begging for the fucking storage lockers!” “Yes, Captain!” “Yes, Captain!” Mantle dismisses them. “What just happened?” Doublemint asks, after the door shuts behind them. Coppertop stares at the wall like he’s been given a death sentence—like he’s seen the worst evils from deep in the void and knows they’re coming for him. “We’re chaperones for Her Royal Highness on her date.” “A date?!” Coppertop looks at Doublemint. “Strange pony guest, around dinner time, wandering around town—and our beloved is in a good mood? What else could it be?” Doublemint runs the social calculus. Coppertop is right, of course. Twilight dating is obviously bad news for her Castle Guards. Sex with the Princess is pretty much the only upside of an otherwise dreary and boring posting (to be fair, it’s quite the upside.) And now Doublemint has to watch Twilight ruin a good setup with emotions and feelings. “What the actual fuck,” he curses. There’s light beneath this shadow, though. Coppertop and Doublemint weren’t exactly discreet. The other off-duty guards are already muttering and gossiping. This won’t stay secret. No matter how this evening turns out, Boot’s thousand-mile stare will get a workout when he returns from his shift to learn that the Princess is dating somepony. --- The Princess looks wonderful when she’s at her worst. When she’s done up, bouncing on her hooves, and ever so slightly anxious, she’s drop dead gorgeous. Wrapped in a colorful scarf and surrounded by snow just after sunset? Some lucky sonofabitch had better not waste it. And there’s a smile on her face, a rare treat. She doesn’t seem to care that Doublemint and Coppertop are even there. With any luck she’ll forget all about them, and Doublemint can get this over and done with before returning to the racks to commiserate with his cohorts. Doublemint wonders if she would notice if he just left. Doublemint and Coppertop follow at a respectable distance, remaining as discreet as they can while still intimidating away any potential evildoers. That a respectable distance behind the Princess is perfect for ogling has nothing to do with it. Twilight has led them from the castle, through the outskirts, and is now approaching the town square. She pauses at the fountain, scanning over the citizens, before she gives a little hop and races towards a stallion. Doublemint wonders just how close they are, but from the way she skids to a stop and nervously hugs the stallion he figures it’s a fresh romance. Not very close yet. He can’t hear what they’re saying yet—too many other ponies murmuring around them—but it looks innocent enough. They look like good friends, not ponies on a date. Maybe it isn’t a date? He’s only got Coppertop’s intuition to go on. The stallion looks normal enough. A Pegasus stallion. So. The princess has a thing for wings? There were those Cloudsdale dignitaries a couple months back. Maybe it’s the novelty of her own wings and the thrill of having somepony preening her that gets her going. Doublemint isn’t often jealous of the Pegasi in his company. Even Boot gets his wings preened now and then, whether he wants it or not. “What a loser,” Coppertop mutters. Doublemint has to agree. The Pegasus looks boring, too. He isn’t nearly as assertive as the ponies in Doublemint’s company. Keeping his distance, smiling carefully. This can’t be a date. Actually, if he didn’t know better— FUCK ME, IT IS BOOT. Doublemint screeches to a stop. He’s certain he’s wrong. He must be. It can’t be. But he isn’t, and it is, and there’s no doubt once he hears Boot speak. “Are you ready? I thought we could get some cocoa then go for a flight. Tonight’s skies are supposed to be crystal clear.” Coppertop staggers, gripping Doublemint for support. Twilight does a little dance. “Ooh, yes. That sounds great. Only—Oh. Damn. I forgot. Sorry,” Twilight admits, looking over at Doublemint and Coppertop—an Earth Pony and a Unicorn who most certainly will not be flying tonight. “My guards will be joining us tonight. The Guard-captain insists that I be escorted when I’m out of the castle from now on, after a certain incident. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure they won’t bother us.” Those last words are said directly at Doublemint and Coppertop. Doublemint is barely listening, can barely hear over the roaring in his ears. How fucking dare they. Twilight Sparkle is having a downright civilised conversation with a member of her Castle Guard. Princess Twilight, who treats her guards like statues with dicks. Boot isn’t just here, accidentally. He’s her date. Princess Twilight is dating one of her Castle Guard, but treating him like . . . like a normal mare would treat her normal stallion. And he looks like a normal stallion. He’s even had his bruises and scratches tended to. “I can’t feel my legs,” Coppertop hisses. And Boot’s staring right back at them. Doublemint suspects his face is a mirror of Boot’s: mostly shock, a little confusion. This isn’t supposed to happen. Twilight isn’t supposed to be dating her guards. She’s supposed to hate her guards. For several seconds they stare at one another. Boot’s right hoof twitches in the snow, like he’s trying not to salute. He quickly glances at Twilight, who’s watching them stare at one another, concern on her face. He purses his lips, then grimaces at Doublemint. Twitches his head ever so subtly. Pleading for them to stay quiet. To not screw this up for him. Doublemint isn’t sure he can avoid doing that. The social calculus running in his head is too complicated, but he knows one thing—this evening just got a whole lot less boring. Twilight coughs. “Um . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it, really. If it’s a problem—” “No!” Boot breaks eye contact and smiles at Twilight. “No. That’s no problem at all. Though maybe next time you should bring a Pegasus guard. Flying is wonderfully relaxing.” He smirks. “You know. Once you get the hang of it.” “Hey!” she laughs, smacking his shoulder. The same shoulder that she bruises over and over. Have they been pretending this whole time? “I don’t think I have many Pegasus guards, but I’ll try and remember next time.” “Already can’t wait for the next time?” Spirit says, turning to face Twilight. Trying to ignore that Doublemint and Coppertop are there. “Oh, um, well—” Twilight stammers. “Oh. Guards,” she says, turning to them and looking downright polite for once. “This is Spirit. Please try to give us some privacy tonight.” Doublemint frowns. “Er, yes, Your Highness. I know who this is.” “You do?” “Of course.” “Um . . . ” Twilight looks back and forth between them. “You didn’t mention knowing any of my Guards.” Doublemint glances at Boot. Boot looks ready to pass out. Doublemint doesn’t know how to react to any of this, and he’s on the verge of bursting—and ruining everything—when Coppertop saves the day. “Of course, Your Highness. We’ll give you two privacy.” “Good.” Doublemint is so shocked—Twilight doesn’t recognize her date!—that he completely misses whatever Boot does to salvage their conversation, but it gets her laughing again, and soon the two of them are walking side by side, almost touching wing to wing, away from the fountain towards a parlor. It’s ridiculous how much taller she is than Boot. And it’s ridiculous just how oblivious she can be. “What are we gonna do?” Doublemint asks. With snow on the ground and the background murmur of nearby ponies, their conversation is muffled enough that they won’t be heard. “Fuck him,” Coppertop says, simply. He does not look happy. Then he adds, “Well, not fuck him, per se, but yeah. Fuck him.” “What? Why? He hasn’t done anything to us.” “He’s doing something to us right now. This was his plan all along.” Doublemint isn’t so sure, but Coppertop has a point. Boot’s been lying about his free time, about the status of the Princess. This can’t be the first time they’ve met, first date or not. And he’s a hypocrite: accusing them of taking advantage of the Princess while clearly trying to claim her for himself and cut them off. “But she’s still beating him up.” “We can salvage this,” Coppertop continues, ignoring him. “She can’t possibly like him.” “So, what? We tell her who he really is?” Coppertop shakes his head. “No, she might start caring about Boot instead. We just need to remind her what she’ll be losing. Watch this.” He waits until Spirit is looking the other way, then ignites his horn. A pale orange nimbus wraps around Twilight’s tail and he tugs, gently, just enough for her to squeak. His magic is gone before either of them can see what’s happened, and luckily as Castle Guards Doublemint and Coppertop have endless practice looking disinterested and casual. Boot isn’t a Unicorn and doesn’t understand magic, but Twilight was and does and figures it out quickly. She looks over her shoulder and glares at them, but can’t say anything without attracting attention to it. Coppertop holds his gaze steady, smirking just enough for her to see. Doublemint tries not to laugh. She could pull them aside and order them to stop. She could order them to leave. Why, she could slap Coppertop and make a scene, and nopony would bat an eye. But she doesn’t. So the moment she turns back to Boot Coppertop does it again, then sizzles his magic across her flank. This time she squeaks, but quieter, and doesn’t acknowledge him. As they walk, whenever Boot is pointing something out or telling some story or is otherwise distracted Coppertop tries to unbalance the Princess with his magic. He touches her flank, sizzles her neck, snaps her cutie marks. When she’s in the middle of telling some exciting story he pushes ever so slightly between her back hooves, almost making her lose balance. She turns it into a step so she can shift her balance, and barely loses her stride. Boot doesn’t see the sneers that she slips them, doesn’t notice the glares. She’s calling their bluff. He’s not bothering her, not really. Just foalish teasing and grabs for attention. Classic Coppertop. But any normal mare would deck him, knock him over, or just plain tear him a new backdoor. Twilight doesn’t even seem fazed when he sends a sizzle up her inner thigh, doesn’t even pause mid-speech. Too bad Doublemint doesn’t have magic. Well, he’ll just have to find some other way to play. --- Boot leads the Princess to a hot cocoa parlor, still bright, warm, and noisy on this cold winter evening. Boot isn’t entirely a moron, then: he’s chosen somewhere pleasant and comfortable with enough ponies around that it won’t be awkward but will be loud enough to offer them privacy. Boot lifts his hoof to open the door and let her in, but Doublemint seizes the opportunity and says, “Please wait, Your Highness,” and slips past. Boot is so busy stumbling out of the way that he doesn’t notice Doublemint brushing up against the Princess and flicking his tail over her rump. The moment Doublemint enters the parlor the room itself hushes. Ponies stare at the hulking, battle-armored Castle Guard as he surveys the floor. Doublemint marches up to a booth and very politely but firmly suggests that its occupants find somewhere else to sit. Twilight enters to a room full of quiet, intimidated ponies, with Coppertop and finally Boot following. She ducks her head behind her wing and hurries over to Doublemint. “What is wrong with you two?” she hisses. “Apologies, Your Highness,” Doublemint says, hoping he sounds authoritative. Coppertop nods. “Standard escort procedures.” “Uh huh.” She shuffles into the booth, hunching under the weight of other ponies watching. “Go wait outside or something,” she sneers. “I don’t need protection. I come here all the time!” “You do?” Boot asks, looking deflated for a moment “Er—well, yes. I’m good friends with the owner,” Twilight admits, as the room resumes its noise. “But I do like it here!” Boot looks ready to slide in beside her but Coppertop pushes him to the opposite seat. “So what do you recommend?” he asks once he’s settled. Their conversation is light, their order simple, and thanks to the intimidating display by her Guards Twilight and Boot relax in relative privacy. Boot watches her talk about whatever has her interests these days, nods and laughs when appropriate, and otherwise works hard to keep the evening in the positive. At one point Boot touches her hoof and she definitely notices but doesn’t pull away. If he were dating anypony else, Doublemint would probably be rooting for him. The owner of the shop, an old plump Earth Pony stallion, walks up to their table with their cocoa balanced on a tray on his back. He pays no mind to Doublemint or Coppertop and squeezes in between them. “Sodapop!” Twilight exclaims, smiling. She lets go of Boot’s hoof and waves. “Here ya go, Princess. Just the way you like ‘em.” “Put it on my tab?” Twilight asks, levitating their steaming drinks onto the table, just as Boot looks ready to offer to pay. “Your credit’s always good here, Twilight!” Sodapop grins, then looks at Boot. “Is this your date? Be careful with her, kid, she’s trouble.” “Don’t tease him,” Twilight chides, laughing. “Thanks, Pop.” Twilight leans out from her seat and kisses him on the cheek, lingering for a second too long. He winks at Boot, slides past the guards, and quickly disappears. “He’s nice,” Boot says casually. Twilight shrugs. “He’s just a friend. One of the first I made in Ponyville.” She looks wistfully in Sodapop’s direction, then shakes her head. “Don’t be jealous.” He shrugs. “I am, though. I mean—I’ve lived in Ponyville for a couple months now, but I haven’t made many friends. But you know everypony! Of course I’m a little envious.” “Oh,” Twilight says simply. “I, uh—You must have some friends.” “Oh, sure. But I was never the popular colt. I was always much more interested in reading or exploring in school, and never really grew out of that.” She snorts. “You think I was popular? I was the bookworm in a school already full of brilliant overachievers.” Twilight laughs and smiles at him. “But if you like, I’ll be you friend.” “Uh, thanks,” he says, laughing awkwardly. “Not exactly what I meant when I asked you out.” “I knew what you meant.” She scoffs. “You’re not exactly the first pony to ask out the hot Princess.” “I didn’t think you were hot—Wait.” He blanches. Twilight purses her lips. “Wow, thanks,” she says dryly. “No, that’s not—” he stammers. “I mean—I didn’t mean—Wait.” Twilight cocks an eyebrow and leans back, holding her hot cocoa in her magic. Spirit tries again, keeping a close eye on her weapon. “Of course you’re objectively beautiful. You’re a Princess. I knew you were beautiful the moment I saw you. What I meant was that I didn’t ask you out because of how you looked. I heard that everypony liked you even before you became a Princess. I heard you were a librarian, and a student before that, but you still knew everypony.” He looks at the table, blushing slightly and tapping his hooves together. “And then after that ridiculous crash—and I’m lying there, winded, covered in snow, and everyone’s trying not to laugh at the idiot Pegasus—and you appeared out of nowhere, all focused and concerned about a total stranger.” He laughs. “Wearing that adorable scarf. What else was I supposed to do?” Go, Boot. Twilight looks at the scarf she has around her neck. A silence grows as Twilight digests his words. She actually starts to blush. “Spirit . . . ” Twilight says. “I know you don’t like being a Princess. At least, I think not. I can’t blame you. I think you’d rather be normal than objectively beautiful. But that’s okay. I’d rather get close with Twilight than be friends with Princess Sparkle.” Twilight gulps. “Really?” Without noticing, she leans forward, almost dropping her drink. Do it, Boot. Boot holds her hoof. “Well, the beautiful part doesn’t hurt.” He leans in, watching her eyes, her face, her lips. Even Coppertop is holding his breath. Their lips meet. Twilight tenses up, looks to the side. “Sorry—” she says, after a few too many seconds. “I can’t—I mean, not yet. Not here.” It feels like the whole room exhales as one. Even Doublemint feels the sting. Twilight carefully removes her scarf and sets it on the table, beside her cocoa. “I’m gonna—Um. Little filly’s room,” Twilight explains. She slides out of the booth and hurries to the washroom. Boot plants his face in his hooves and groans, then notices the two of them watching him. “Fuck you,” he says. “Is this your first date?” Doublemint asks. Boot pouts for a moment. “No. Fifth.” Coppertop barks out a laugh. “Loser.” Doublemint rolls his eyes. “I thought you were doing pretty good, Boot.” Boot levels a stare. “You can leave, you know. She’s got an escort. Even if she doesn’t know it.” Doublemint shakes his head. “No can do. Captain Mantle insisted we not let her leave our sight. In fact . . . ” Doublemint turns and heads to the washroom, feeling Boot’s gaze as he does. --- Inside, Twilight’s standing in front of a mirror, forehooves on the counter, staring at her reflection. When she sees Doublemint enter behind her she startles, then turns and glares at him. “What are you doing in here?” “Now you’re talking to me? I thought you were ignoring us,” he says. “Hmm,” she sniffs, and turns to face the mirror. Her horn ignites and she starts digging through her bags. “Return to our table, I won’t be long.” “I—” Doublemint hesitates. Standing behind her, he’s got a perfect view of her ass. She’s not being particularly careful to keep her tail in place, and Doublemint doubts she needs that much concentration to look through a bag. Just because she isn’t wearing green, she thinks that she can do whatever she wants to him without consequences? That she can tease him—taunt him—and hide behind her rules? Well, Doublemint knows how to fix that. He came in here to ask about that kiss, and why she’s being such a bitch—but maybe that can wait. Before his resolve can fail he puts his hoof on her rump. Twilight gasps, drops whatever she was holding, and glares at his reflection. He smiles and trails his hoof over her lovely curves. Just the right amount of muscle and fat, perfect for groping. “Stop,” she growls. “I’m not doing anything,” Doublemint insists. “Just looking.” He glances at her scowl and watches the little flickers of emotion flash over her face, then grabs her tail at the base and gives it a quick pull. “Ow! Stop,” she mutters. “Can you not remember one simple rule?” “We’re alone,” Doublemint insists. “I’m not wearing green, you meathead.” Doublemint smiles. “I’m sure it’s just an honest mistake. I’ll forgive you. Your date seems nice.” “Spirit’s not an abusive pig like you and the other guards are, if that’s what you mean.” “Really?” He smiles, tracing her cutie mark. “Word around the racks is you’ve actually been beating up one of us. So I guess you would know.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” “It is ridiculous. The Princess of Friendship, using her authority to rough up a poor, innocent Guard just so she can relieve some stress. Obscene.” He trails his hoof down her rump and feels up between her legs. Twilight gasps and grips the counter. “You know, Boot’s a nice Guard. Almost as nice as your date. You really ought to be nicer to him. He actually cares about your wellbeing.” Twilight is far too slow at swatting his offending hoof away, and certainly doesn’t swat very hard. “Unlike you.” “I care about you plenty. Watching you walk around the castle, all pretentious and proper. I know deep down there’s a young filly who just wants someone to treat her like a normal pony. But she’s fighting a bully, and I’m worried the bully is winning.” He presses his hoof against her cunt, hard, almost lifting her off the floor. She gasps. “Stop it,” she whispers. They lock eyes in the mirror. Her face is a riot of conflicting emotions and needs. “I’m not wearing green.” He doesn’t listen, just gropes his hoof up and down her slit, spreading her juices everywhere. She’s warm, very warm. He can smell her. He realizes he’s snorting. She grunts and moves her hips to guide his hoof to where she needs. Finally he says, “Then put this on.” With his sticky hoof he grabs the green silk choker from inside his armor and holds it up for her reflection to see. “Or stop beating up Boot. He doesn’t deserve it.” “You all deserve it,” she gasps, pointing her rump up at him, hoping he’ll resume touching her. “Then why don’t you stop us?” he asks. “Why not punish us? What is so damned special about Boot?” “Depends. Which one is that?” she asks. Doublemint sighs. He shouldn’t be surprised; Boot has been hanging off of her for the past half hour and she hasn’t recognized him. “He’s one of the nicest guards in our company. If anyone deserves your respect, it’s him.” He stares at Twilight’s reflection. She’s blushing, panting. Angry at her own feelings. Staring with desperation at him. She’s long forgotten whatever she came here for. Unless of course she came here for this. He tosses the choker onto the counter. “Put it on,” he orders, wiping his sticky hoof on her cutie mark. “Somepony could catch us,” she whines, eyeing the choker. She bites her lip. She knows what it means. “So block the door. Aren’t you supposed to be this super smart, incredibly powerful magician?” She plucks the choker in her magic, holds it in front of her, focusing on it so she doesn’t have to look at Doublemint. “Can—” She gulps. “Can I take it off after?” Doublemint hadn’t considered that she would wear it all night, but he can immediately see the appeal. “No. There’s no way your date will know what it means, so it’s okay. He won’t do anything to you, and as long as you’re not alone, neither will we.” She shudders, hopefully imagining the same thing he’s imagining right now: wearing her fuck-me choker in public. A secret perversion she would share with her Guards but not with her date. She’s imagining Doublemint and Coppertop finding excuses to separate her from her date, get her alone for even a few minutes, and do unspeakable things to her, like they always do. Twilight bites her lip, nods, and in the mirror watches her reflection clip the green choker around her neck. It’s tight. It clashes horribly with her purple coat. It’s extremely obvious. But even just showing it to her has made his heart race, and seeing it around her neck sends a shiver down his spine. He’s already hard. He can tell without looking. She takes a deep breath then looks him in the eye. Daring him to make her do something. To order her around. He can’t possibly be serious. She thinks she’s calling his bluff. But Doublemint’s far too impatient for games. He grabs her mane and yanks her off the counter, pulls her toward him. She yelps, scrambles to turn and keep her neck from pulling. He pushes her down and back so she’s sitting with her back against the counter, and steps over her. Her breath pants over his cock, and then her wet nose touches the underside, slides up till she can kiss the tip. She has to tilt her head to keep from poking her horn into his gut. The sharp ivory slides across his belly, sending shivers up his body. Back and forth it scratches at him as she licks and slurps his cock, until it’s coated in saliva. Then Twilight opens her mouth and lets him slide inside. “Fuck,” Doublemint groans, clenching his abs and gripping her mane tight. He leans his weight forward onto the counter and pushes his cock back against her throat. “Fuck!” Somehow the Princess’s mouth never gets boring, never gets familiar. And he’s never fucked her outside of the castle. Somepony could catch them. She’s a little hidden, but there’s no mistaking what’s going on, and the Princess’s wings, splayed out in front of the counter, are very recognizable. Doublemint slides back, and the Princess starts bobbing her head. There isn’t much room between his crotch and the counter, but she manages. Her tongue pulls and wraps around his cock and presses it against the roof of her mouth. She’s extra drooly today—he can hear her spit dripping down onto the floor between his hooves. How generous. “Are you that turned on sucking cock in a washroom? Or are you thinking about your date sitting out there, patiently waiting? Yeah. It’s working for me, too.” She growls, runs her teeth over his cock. He thrusts forward, knocking the back of her head against the counter, and holds her there. She doesn’t threaten him again. “Do you really think this is going to work?” Doublemint grunts, watching his reflection in the mirror. He can just see her horn and mane. “That you and your handsome stallion can fall in love, have foals, and live together? Not because you’re a Princess and he’s a nobody. Not even because you’re a whore and can’t say no.” He leans back, looks down at her. Slides his hoof through her hair. So pretty. “It’s because he’s just so damned nice. There’s only room for one nice stallion in your life. It’s why you surround yourself with horrible ponies. You cannot bear the thought that some of us are good. That would be competition. Even though your Prince will never love you the way you need.” She glares at him, sneers around her mouthful of cock. “He’s too nice for you. Look at you. Is this your first date? Second? Have you slept with him yet?” Her glare softens and she looks away, just past her nose, at the abdomen filling her vision. “Didn’t think so. It could be your fifth date and you wouldn’t fuck him. I bet you haven’t even kissed him. And he doesn’t seem like the type of stallion to just take you. Even though that’s what you need. Asking politely doesn’t turn you on.” He leans forward and pushes his crotch against her face, shoves his cock into her mouth. Her eyes bulge and she pushes at his hips, starts hitting his legs. He ignores her protests and starts humping her face. He knows it’s all for show. She doesn’t really want to fight back. She could teleport away if she wanted. Or use her magic. Doublemint doesn’t rely on limiting rings or grounding rods to control his Princess. “You need somepony to need you so badly that they can’t resist. You need to be needed. Need to be used. Whore.” He leans back, and she ejects from his cock, gagging and coughing. “Fuck you,” she manages between breaths. She reaches up and wipes the saliva from her chin, then glares at him. “The moment we get back—urk!” He presses back between her lips, shutting her up. “The moment we get back—what?” He glares at his reflection. “You’ll ‘put an end to this’?” Doublemint thrusts into her mouth, grazing her throat. “Nothing to say? You’re a lot less opinionated with a cock in your mouth.” No response. His stomach hits the edge of the counter, over and over. It’s like he’s fucking the counter—like Twilight is furniture for him to use. Furniture doesn’t fight back. Furniture doesn’t care who uses it, or when, or how roughly. Fuck. Perched as he is over the counter he can’t even see her mane. All he can feel is her hot tongue squeezing his cock, the drool and sweat on his inner thighs, and the heated snorts of her breath. Fuck. Even the stamina of an Earth Pony isn’t enough. He’s so close. He looks past his reflection at the door. It’s not locked. It’s not even that heavy or soundproofed. He’s pretty sure Twilight didn’t sizzle it shut. Anypony on the other side could hear them and wonder what’s making the rhythmic thumping sounds. He wants somepony to wander in and gasp, avert their eyes, then peer between his legs and recognize the mare who’s hoofing herself while sucking a stallion’s cock. He gasps. Just imagining it has his heart racing, his body surging. Some other patron. The owner that she’s “just friends” with, coming in to join them, and settle her tab. Or—Oh, fuck. The only thing that could make this hotter would be Boot wandering in, wondering what’s taking her so long, and discovering his date on the floor, sucking another stallion’s cock—and swallowing his thick—disgusting—Earth Pony cum—Fuck! Doublemint grunts, and clenches his abs, trying to hold it back, but it’s too late, heat blooms through his body, and suddenly he’s shooting into her mouth. He can feel it rushing out. Twilight has to fight for every swallow. Like any Earth Pony stallion, he always makes a mess when he comes. He snorts, stomps against the countertop, keeps thrusting like an animal. His cockhead is sloshing in cum even as she swallows again and again, but she can’t swallow as quickly as he can shoot. Her cheeks bulge. Cum splurts out between her lips and drips down her chin. Amateur. Twilight knocks his hips back and coughs, spilling a mouthful of cum down her front, gasps for breath. Doublemint grips his cock and aims at her face and chest, painting her in spunk. He’s desperate to hold on to the tail end. It’s never enough. He’s still horny. He’s got to fuck her tonight. Panting, heart racing, and still oozing cum onto the floor, he stumbles back onto all fours and looks at the Princess. She’s slumped back against the counter, staring through Doublemint at the wall behind him. Cum is streaked down her front, from her cheeks over her chest to her abdomen. He watches a large blob pull away from her chin and splash on the floor. There’s sweat streaming down her forehead, and tears in her eyes. What a fucking mess. It takes him a moment to catch his breath. “So, have you kissed him yet?” he asks. He plucks a washcloth and wipes her eyes clean. She doesn’t answer at first, just tries to get her breathing under control, then shakes her head no. “You should kiss him. The moment you get back to the table. I doubt he could recognize the taste. Although, if you do,” he says, grinning with the idea, “you probably won’t be able to kiss him afterwards unless your mouth tastes like cum. Otherwise he’ll notice the difference. But you should still kiss him. He’s been the perfect stallion so far, even though you’re acting like a bitch.” Twilight shudders. That she’s not outright rejecting the idea makes Doublemint’s heart race. He’s going to make sure Twilight and Boot make out as often as possible tonight. He leans over her and presents his cummy, oozing cock for her to lick and suck clean, then turns and marches out, leaving Twilight to deal with the rest of his cum and make herself and the restroom presentable again. In the parlor, as he approaches the table, he can feel Boot’s eyes on him, can feel the animosity pouring off of him. Coppertop has been playing defense, keeping Boot occupied. What a pal. After a few minutes the bathroom door opens and Twilight slinks out, still wearing her green choker. Boot sees it immediately. His eyes bug out and he glares at Doublemint. Doublemint winks. Of course Boot knows what Twilight just did; he’s not stupid. At least, he can guess. But he can’t make a scene with a Castle Guard in front of everypony, even if he is one in disguise. He certainly can’t act like he recognizes the choker. Likewise Doublemint can’t taunt or tease Boot. But he can grin. Coppertop also notices right away, and offers him a quick hoof-bump. Her acting is not bad. By the time she makes it back to her table she’s smiling and humming a tune. She does clean up pretty well; if it weren’t for the flush on her cheeks and the fuck-me choker around her neck, Doublemint wouldn’t be able to tell that she just swallowed a couple mouthfuls of his cum. She ignores Doublemint, pretends he isn’t even there, like always. This time she slides in beside Boot, not across from him, pushes right up against him. “Sorry that took so long,” she says, leaning over and giving him a peck on the cheek. She pauses, trailing her gaze from his eyes to his cheek to his mouth, then turns his head and presses her lips to his. Boot freezes in shock but hides his surprise well, quickly kissing back. Doublemint purses his lips, feels his cheeks flush. He’s never actually kissed the Princess before. It’s never been about romance. But Doublemint figures this kiss is special. She’s pressing her upper body against his, probably still a little tacky, and reaches around him to pull him close. She’s lost in her own world. Her little gasps and the quick breaks between their lips show her tongue pressing against his. Doublemint’s never been jealous of Boot before. He would happily taste his own cum to have the Princess treat him like that. She breaks the kiss and leans her forehead against his chin, panting. Boot probably thinks she’s turned on from sucking his face. Maybe he thinks she’s still turned on from whatever he thinks Doublemint did to her. But the Princess is almost certainly out of breath because of whatever Coppertop’s magic is doing to her, yet she hasn’t said a word. Coppertop won’t make her come, not if he can help it, so Twilight is going to be in a constant state of arousal all night. Boot might get laid after all. --- Boot had apparently planned on taking the Princess flying, maybe showing her a nice look-out and then finding some privacy. Maybe he was going to play off of her love of astronomy and celestial magic. He could’ve raced her, then helped preen her once she was warmed up, sweaty, and full of adrenaline. But with her decidedly non-Pegasi Guards weighing them down, Twilight suggests they wander through the night market. A thoroughly unromantic activity in Doublemint’s opinion, but who is he to question a Princess? Ponyville’s night market is a small affair, but most of the town is out. Lanterns and magic keep away the snow and chill, and the bright lights and laughter remind everypony of the holidays. It’s crowded—there are more buyers than sellers—so Doublemint and Coppertop have to carve a path down the aisles for the Princess. And if it means that Coppertop is bumped up against the Princess, over and over, that’s not their fault. His horn stays constantly ignited, crackling and sizzling without a visible target. Every time he has to guide the Princess past some obstacle or around some group of ponies he gropes or rubs her flank. And the Princess has a nice, dopey smile on her face. Not that Boot can see; he’s forced to walk behind her, not beside her, and watch Coppertop grope her. There are worse views, but he doesn’t look too happy. Doublemint almost feels bad for the guy, having to put up with chaperones like this, especially when Boot’s date is enjoying their presence more than his. At least Doublemint had the decency to hide in the washroom. “There are so many shops! Have you seen these?” Boot hollers over the noise, pointing at some baubles. “What?” Twilight asks over shoulder. “Have you—never mind,” he grumps. Coppertop’s a real asshole. Boot should be walking side by side with Twilight. Wing to wing. Making jokes together and grinning like idiots and slowly falling in love. Instead Coppertop’s acting like he’s Twilight’s date. It won’t be long now before he convinces the Princess to slip away for a few minutes and maintain the status quo. Doublemint lets Coppertop continue with the Princess and drops back to wait for Boot. The poor guy looks absolutely miserable. Worse—resigned. Waiting for the evening to be over. “Boot, why aren’t you up front with her? Tell Coppertop to walk behind you. Don’t just—” “What did you do?” Boot asks. “What do you mean?” He glares at Doublemint. “In the washroom. At the parlor.” “In the . . . Oh.” He rolls his eyes. “Right. Well, Twilight just needed a pep talk. Dates are stressful for mares, too, you know.” “She’s wearing green!” Boot insists, stopping. Great. More drama. “And it’s your fucking choker!” He steps right up into Doublemint’s face. At least he isn’t lacking in nerve. “Watch your language,” Doublemint exclaims, shoving Boot back a step. “There’s foals out here.” “Why,” Boot growls, lowering his voice, “is she wearing your choker? What did you do?!” “That’s for your sake, Boot. She needs to loosen up and be herself! All I did was give her the courage to keep going with your date, ’cause it certainly wasn’t going anywhere on its own.” Doublemint shrugs innocently. “I could give you a pep talk, too, if you need.” “She didn’t need courage. This isn’t—” Boot is about to shove Doublemint when he notices the curious ponies watching their exchange. He puts his hoof down and hisses, “It’s not even our first date!” “You’re right. It’s your fifth date, and until I encouraged her she still hadn’t kissed you. I’d say she needed some courage. Hey! You should be thanking me. If it weren’t for me she wouldn’t’ve kissed you at all.” Boot simmers. “Just—stay out of this,” he warns, like he has any leverage over Doublemint. “Or what? You’ll go to the Princess?” Boot huffs. Doublemint isn’t letting him off that easily. “What are you trying to accomplish? What do you think is going to happen? She’s not going to stop being who she is. She won’t change for you.” “I know. But I have to try.” “And just how many times does trying entail? How many dates before you can say you’ve tried?” “This isn’t exercise. There’s no quota to fill.” “This has no future. She’s not going to love you. You know she’s still fucking us, right? Almost every night? I think it may actually be getting worse. And I know it’s because of you. You show her how nice she wants to be so she pushes back harder.” “That’s the whole point. Push her to her limit. Things have to change.” He looks at Doublemint, and he seems genuinely concerned. Doublemint thinks he finally understands Coppertop’s frustration. “You wanna see what happens when you push too hard? Fine.” He jabs Boot in the chest. “Let’s go see what happens when your beloved Princess is pushed too far.” “Let’s go—what?!” Boot shoves past Doublemint and stumbles into a crush of ponies. The Princess is nowhere to be seen. He whirls around, desperate. “Twilight? Twilight!” The other ponies ignore him. He rounds on Doublemint and grabs him by the neck of his peytral. “Where’s the Princess? What have you done?” Doublemint knocks his hoof away. “I haven’t done anything. Aren’t you a Pegasus? Find her—” Boot’s impressive wingstorm nearly lifts Doublemint and the surrounding ponies off their hooves. Boot is in the air and out of sight before Doublemint can finish his sentence. “—yourself.” He sighs. “Shit.” --- Doublemint finally finds Boot standing just outside of the market. The lanterns don’t quite reach this far, so it’s dark and quiet. Doublemint almost missed him. He’s staring intently into the brush. It doesn’t take a Unicorn to figure out who he’s watching. “Found them?” he asks casually, like Boot was searching the racks for his greaves. Boot yelps, jumps away from Doublemint. After a few moments he slumps. “I—Yes.” Without looking, he points into the trees. Doublemint turns and follows Boot’s hoof. Earth Ponies can’t see as well in the dark as Pegasi, but Doublemint can make out their silhouettes. Just ahead of them, almost close enough to reach out and touch him, Coppertop is sitting with his back to a tree. Crouched between his knees is Twilight, slurping and bobbing her head in his lap. Hot. Doublemint can’t make out their expressions, but in the faint light from Coppertop’s horn he can see her hooves holding his hips in place. There’s no obvious target for Coppertop’s magic; it’s probably inside the Princess. He certainly isn’t holding her in place. And they’re not being particularly quiet. Any lost foal or amorous couple could stumble upon them. Boot sure did. Maybe Coppertop wanted Boot to find them. “Ah,” Doublemint says. “Well, you should join them.” “Fuck you,” Boot snarls. “This is all your fault. If you’d just stop enabling—” Doublemint rounds on Boot. “Celestia, you are dense,” he hisses. “You’ve found her whoring herself out and you’re not stopping her? You’re the enabler. Seriously. Grow a pair. Walk right up to them and confront her. Yell at them. Mount her. Or, return to the castle and cry yourself to sleep. I don’t care. But stop blaming me. If you want her to fuck you, you know what you have to do. If anything, this is your fault.” “I know what Coppertop’s been doing. If he—” he gulps, speaking slowly and carefully. “If he fucked her with his magic then she’d be . . . intoxicated. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Doublemint rolls his eyes. The Princess knows precisely what she’s doing, and to whom she is and is not doing it—and so does Boot. Ahead, Coppertop grunts. “Twilight, slow down. Worried your date will find you? Woah, calm down. There you go. He’s probably fine. Doublemint—you know, your other Guard? No?—is playing defense. Re-lax. I won’t be long—fuck, especially if you keep doing that!—and then you can go back to your date with a stomach full of cum and give him a big, bright, shiny white smile.” Boot sniffs, takes a shuddering breath. Wait. Is he crying? “Boot, calm down. It’s okay,” Doublemint says, aghast. In the dark, facing away from the night market’s lanterns, it’s hard to tell. There’s no way. Boot never cries. But maybe Doublemint has been a little hard on the guy. He is watching his girlfriend cheat on him. Doublemint puts his hoof on Boot’s shoulder. “Hey. I’m sorry I yelled. Just—” Boot jerks back, grunts, “Don’t touch me.” It doesn’t sound like he’s been crying at all. In fact— Doublemint pauses, hoof still on his shoulder, and reassesses. Boot’s not shuddering, he’s shivering, and not because of the cold. Doublemint’s been around plenty of Pegasi Castle Guards, and has watched them prey on vulnerable, attractive Princesses. He recognizes the signs: deep, slow speech. Spread hooves. Twitching wings. And the most obvious tell of all: an erection. Doublemint knows a horny Pegasus when he sees one. He jerks his hoof back. “Ce-lestia, you’re getting off to this. No wonder you’re not yelling at her.” “Shut up,” Boot hisses, either out of shame or in a bid to keep from being discovered. “You like watching them, don’t you?” No response, aside from the aggressive slurps and groans from just ahead of them. Doublemint weighs his options. Boot isn’t unattractive, per se. And a line has already been crossed. He takes off his helmet and drops it on the ground. The sound startles Boot. Doublemint smiles at the alarm in Boot’s eyes, turns to face him instead of the lewd show Coppertop’s putting on. “I always thought you were buckled too tightly. Perfect fucking Castle Guard. Always training, always quoting regulations, always snapping-to and following orders like a good little pony.” He steps close and whispers into his ear, “But you’re a freak like the rest of us.” He nuzzles Boot, then licks Boot’s cheek. Boot gasps, freezes. Doesn’t punch Doublemint in the face. A good sign. Doublemint pushes ahead. “It’s just something about her.” He strokes his hoof down Boot’s neck and fluffs his chest fur. The slurping sounds float around them for a second, as well as the sizzles and crackles from whatever Coppertop is doing with his horn. “If I didn’t know for a fact she’s not the Princess of Love I’d swear up and down she’s using some sort of freaky Unicorn voodoo magic.” “Shut up,” Boot mutters again, without much heat. Doublemint reaches under his barrel, feels his cock. Boot hisses but doesn’t push him away. Doublemint gets a good feel for it. Starts stroking it. Slowly. It’s big and hard. Doublemint doesn’t think Boot was packing earlier, in the market. Poor Boot is definitely turned on watching his cute, innocent girlfriend cheat on him. “Has she done this with you yet?” Doublemint breathes in his ear. “Has she fucked you?” Boot gulps, then shakes his head. Angles his hips slightly, giving Doublemint more room to maneuver. “No. Not with Spirit, at least.” He forces an awkward laugh. “Is it good? What does she do?” Boot doesn’t answer, so Doublemint stills his hoof. When Boot tries to thrust into it he moves his hoof in tandem, denying him that sensation. Doublemint loosens his grip, and Boot grunts and says, “Yes! Yeah. It’s—it’s good.” “What does she do?” Doublemint presses, stroking him again. Boot’s drooling precum all over Doublemint’s hoof, making everything nice and slippery. Boot looks straight into the brush, avoiding eye contact with Doublemint. “She—she likes to be on top, because I won’t—” Another shuddering breath. “She sits on my face, makes me eat her out. Over and over. Until I can’t breathe. I passed out once—Mmph!—and woke up to her sucking my cock. She looked angry, but she didn’t stop until I came all over her face. Oh, fuck. Sometimes when she’s mad she uses her magic to—” he gulps “—to restrain me. So I’m spread out on her bed. And she climbs up over me and rides me. She gets mad at me if I come too early, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.” Doublemint closes his eyes and savors the images Boot’s sharing with him. Twilight’s never ridden him before. “Does she punish you?” Boot nods, his motions jerky. “When I don’t do what she wants. She beats me up. Punches me. Scratches me. Bites me. Yesterday, she—” Doublemint leans in and bites his neck. “Ow!” Boot cries, staggering against Doublemint, and clenches his jaw. His cock squirts precum all over Doublemint’s hoof. He’s perilously close to coming. Doublemint releases his jaw and licks the area, feels Boot’s racing pulse. “Are you into that?” Doublemint wonders, giving Boot a quick squeeze. Boot gasps. “Yeah. When she does it. Makes me come.” “Freak.” “Says the pony stroking his junior’s cock,” Boot mutters. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re hot.” No response. Doublemint lets go of Boot’s cock, ignores his pathetic whimpering, and licks his hoof clean. “Mmm. Keep watching her. See if you can come right when Coppertop does. You can pretend it’s you and her, if you want. I won’t mind.” “But she’s not—” Doublemint knocks one of Boot’s forehooves out of the way, crouches beneath him on the cold ground, and nuzzles Boot’s cock with his nose. Fuck, he smells so good. So aroused. He licks his tongue from Boot’s sack to the tip. It’s too dark to really see but he can feel the sticky precum splashed over Boot’s stomach. “Fuck. Oh, fuck,” Boot grunts. “Please don’t do this. Stop it. Please. You’re gonna make me come!” Kinda the point. “Ce-lestia, can you imagine what would happen if your date saw this?” he asks, breathing on Boot’s stomach. “I said—” Doublemint swallows his cock. “Ohh,” Boot groans. He stumbles, stomps his free hoof on Doublemint’s back for balance and to hold him in place, shoving him into the gritty dirt. “Fuck . . . ” Doublemint smiles around the cock in his mouth. Something about Pegasi really turns him on. So lithe, so tightly packaged. That fluttering sound when they’re agitated. Their belly fur is often quite soft. They come so fast. And Boot is an especial Pegasus. Very fit. That Boot is at the mercy of his own kinks makes it that much tastier. Doublemint pulls off his cock and gasps. Boot humps the air pitifully, then shoves at him, tries to back up and get free, but Doublemint grabs his hindlegs and holds him still. Wraps his lips around Boot again. “I hate you,” Boot mutters through gritted teeth. Doublemint smiles around the piece of meat in his mouth. Rubs his tongue against Boot’s shaft, inhales the sweat on his groin. Drool runs out of his lips and down his chin. He gulps around Boot’s cock and hums into his crotch. Boot gasps and crunches, crouches around Doublemint’s head. Grunts like an animal. He doesn’t say anything. Either he can’t, or he’s too ashamed to acknowledge that he’s enjoying a stallion’s mouth around his cock. Coppertop yelps and says, “Fuck, you’re so good at this. Whoa. Oh! Wait, hold on!” Doublemint can’t really see what’s going on, but he can hear just fine. The Princess gasps for breath. “What are you doing?” she worries. “Don’t you want to come in my mouth?” “I changed my mind. Hold still!” “Ow! Stop, you stupid—No, stop!” Boot hisses, “Let go! I have to save her!” If Doublemint had control of his face he’d be rolling his eyes. You had your chance. Doublemint tightens his grip and pulls Boot close, which has the wonderful effect of pushing his cock up against Doublemint’s throat. Boot struggles and whimpers, but it’s for show. They never really mean it. Doublemint’s never felt this much power over another pony before—not even over Twilight. Never mind that Boot has his cock in Doublemint’s mouth; Doublemint’s the one doing the fucking. He bobs his head back and forth, building a steady rhythm that matches Coppertop’s noisy thrusts into Twilight’s backside. Too bad he can’t match Coppertop’s romantic serenade: “Fuck, Twilight. Everytime I think about coming on your face—Oh, shit!—it just feels like such a waste. I swear, there’s something magical about your cunt. It’s like a fucking magnet. Did Doublemint fuck you too? The other Guard? Or did you just suck him off?” “Sucked—sucked his cock,” Twilight grunts. Boot whimpers. “His loss,” he says. “I can feel my balls churning. I think it’s gonna be big. You ready?” “What? No!” Twilight hisses. “You can’t come inside me. I’ve got a date! He’ll know! He’ll—” she shudders. “He’ll see it.” “So? Find him and fuck him before he does. He won’t notice there’s a queue. He certainly liked when you kissed him earlier. And, really. Don’t you want to?” Twilight says, “I can’t.” “Why the fuck not? Just turn around and lift your tail—” Boot gasps, jerks in Doublemint’s mouth. He’s close. Doublemint can feel the way his cock throbs, the way he keeps squirting hot, runny precum all over his tongue. Twilight groans. “He wouldn’t. He’s better than that.” “Are you sure about that?” “He has to be.” “Or else what?” Twilight doesn’t answer, just pants and grunts. So does Boot. Then Coppertop says, “One way to find out. Walk up to him and kiss him again. Reach under his barrel and grab his cock. Get him to fuck you. Otherwise, I hope you can act natural with my cum dripping out of your cunt.” Twilight inhales sharply. “Fuck it. Alright.” Boot grunts, stomps on Doublemint’s back, and arches his spine, shoves his cock against the back of Doublemint’s throat. “You’ll fuck him?” “Yes! The moment I find him. Fuck. Just come already!” “Yes, Your Highness.” Boot’s cock swells and explodes. Doublemint barely tastes it at first, with his cock so far back. Then he feels the warm saltiness flood his mouth. He tries to back up, tries to uncork his mouth so he can breathe, but Boot’s cock is good and stuck and Boot is pressing more weight onto his back, and Doublemint’s all out of position and can’t get any leverage. He barely has time to swallow as Boot splatters more and more cum. “Nnn—Fu—hu—huck,” Boot groans, thrusting erratically. He grabs Doublemint’s withers and pulls him tight, scrambling to shove his cock deeper. His cock spits out mouthful after mouthful of Pegasus spunk. Ce-lestia, he tastes so fucking good. Doublemint holds his breath and swallows dutifully. A Pegasus stallion doesn’t come as much or as hard as an Earth Pony stallion does, thankfully. When Boot gasps and wrenches his softening dick from Doublemint’s mouth, he’s only spilled a few drops down his chin. Boot doesn’t even have enough left to paint Doublemint’s face. Ha! The Princess could take a few pointers. For a few seconds neither of them say anything. Then— “Mmm. Tasty—” “Ah!” Boot yelps, jerked back to reality. With his wings rigid like they are, his balance is shot. He falls to the side and crashes beside Doublemint in a pile of dirty feathers and tangled mane. Doublemint winces. Boot wasn’t particularly quiet. But nothing happens. The Princess doesn’t shriek or yell or say anything. She just keeps panting and groaning. He shouldn’t be too surprised. She’s distracted. Boot lies there, panting. When his eyes meet Doublemint’s he quickly looks away, grimacing. Doublemint climbs to his hooves. “C’mon,” he mutters, helping Boot to all fours, making room for wings which just won’t settle on their own. “Let’s wait for them in the market.” Boot looks at his hooves and nods, turns and starts toward the market. An orange glow clamps around Boot’s hindhoof and yanks him back with a yelp, drags him through the bush to collapse right in front of Twilight. He scrambles back to his hooves, but it’s far too late to hide or to try and look casual. Fucking Coppertop. “Spirit!” Twilight hisses, freezing. “I—” “Fuck! Yes! I knew you were—” Coppertop grimaces, clenches his core, and comes inside Twilight. Twilight gasps, eyes wrenched open in shock. For a moment Doublemint worries that Boot is about to snap. About to get into a fight with Coppertop that he’s bound to lose. After everything that’s happened, today would be the day. But for all Doublemint’s jokes about his hidden kinks and deviant behavior, Boot is still Boot: straight-laced, reserved, and non-confrontational. Even watching another stallion flood his fillyfriend’s cunt with cum—Fuck, that is hot—Boot just stands there, slack-jawed. Twilight covers her face with her hooves and rides out Coppertop’s disgusting, grunting orgasm in shame. She can’t quite stop moaning. Sizzling, crackling Unicorn spunk splashes loudly onto the ground beneath them. “—knew you were there,” Coppertop sighs, then collapses onto the Princess, wearing a big, dopey smile. Twilight grunts, suddenly holding his weight, and knocks Coppertop to the side. It’s quiet again. The voices of ignorant, normal ponies in the nearby ad-hoc market float around them, mixing with happy Coppertop noises. Boot finally builds up the nerve to speak. “Twilight?” he asks. Twilight gulps, then looks between her hooves at him. “I can explain. This is—” Coppertop groans. “He obviously heard it all, Your Highness. Especially that last bit, where you said you were going to fuck him? Well, he hasn’t left yet. Come on, Spirit,” he teases. “Look at her. She wants this. Are you really going to deny your Princess?” Look at her, indeed. What a sight. She’s blushing, out of breath, shivering with evaporating sweat. Her rump’s still in the air. Coppertop smiles. “She’s a mare with needs, Spirit. Aren’t you going to help her?” “Shut up, Coppertop,” Doublemint says. Boot gulps, then walks up in front of Twilight. Looms over her. She looks up at him in a daze. He’s still erect. “Twilight—” Her eyes snap into focus. She ignites her horn and holds Boot’s hooves in place, holds him back. “Please don’t,” she whimpers, holding eye contact. “I don’t want us to be built on this. I’m—I’m sorry.” Boot gulps, and nods. She struggles to all fours and steps in front of Boot. She looks miserable, guilty as fuck, but musters as much poise as a Princess can, given her circumstances, and says, “I do really like you. I mean it. I just—” She purses her lips. “I’m sorry.” Still holding him in place, she tilts her head down to his, hesitates, then kisses him. He doesn’t kiss back, just stares at her. From this angle Doublemint watches Coppertop’s cum slide down her inner thigh. “Walk me home?” she asks with a sad smile, releasing his hooves with a snap. Boot slumps. “Sure. Why not?” Poor bastard. --- “Will I get to see you again?” Twilight asks. She’s stopped outside of the castle, right before the stairs. “Do you even want to?” “Spirit—” she starts. She looks helpless, uncertain. “They treat me like an animal. Like a piece of meat. You make me feel like a Princess. Of course I want to see you again.” She reaches out to touch his cheek. “When the time is right, we’ll make love. And we’ll be stronger for it. Being together could mean a lot more for us. But this?” she says, glancing over her shoulder at Doublemint and Coppertop. “This isn’t love. There’s no future there. We can’t start a family or take care of each other. I could never fall in love with one of my Guards. I can’t depend on any of them. And they know they can’t depend on me. It’s just physical urges. Sex is just . . . It’s so hollow. Do you really want that? Do you just want me for my body?” “No,” he grunts. “Of course not.” She shakes her head. He’s lying, of course, at least a little, and she can tell. Twilight knows he’s just an animal with hollow physical urges, but she dreams of something better. “It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen in love. I don’t know if you’re the one, but I want to find out. And I’m really scared. I’m scared of ruining whatever’s growing between us.” His resolve cracks, just a little. “I—I could be your Guard! You don’t need—” Twilight stops him with a hoof and shakes her head. “Of course I need them. If I didn’t, I’d get rid of them. I hate them. If you were my Guard I’d hate you too.” Boot gulps. Purses his lips. His resolve closes up again, tighter than before. “So, what? We just wait?” While you sleep around with your Guards? Doublemint adds in this head. “It’s not that bad. I don’t care if you sleep with some other mare in the meanwhile. There’s a young filly living in our castle, and she likes Pegasi—maybe you and she can get together. Should I introduce you?” she asks, looking desperately hopeful that he’ll accept this compromise. Of course he won’t. And Doublemint’s pretty sure the Princess already knows this. Boot slumps. Doublemint holds his breath. When Twilight uses that voice ponies tend to give in—Scratch that. Ponies tend to want to say yes. C’mon. Say no. Tell her no. Tell her you’re through. Just—be a fucking stallion! To his credit, Boot doesn’t whine or beg. He never has. But he cannot say no to his Princess anymore than the Princess can say no to her knight in shining armor. Instead he kisses her forehead, wishes her a goodnight, and turns to leave, maybe to find a way to sneak into the castle without her noticing. Fuck that. “Your Highness, please wait.” He motions to Coppertop. Coppertop nods and grabs Boot in a swirl of orange while Doublemint runs up to him. Together they point him at the Princess. “Hey! What—” “Stop it! Let him go!” Before Twilight can do much more than gawp, Doublemint removes his standard-sized helmet and plunks it down over Boot’s head. He grabs Boot in a headlock from behind just as Twilight swats Coppertop away. “Get that fucking thing off of him,” Twilight growls, horn crackling, stance aggressive. “Recognize him?” Doublemint grunts, twisting Boot’s face into view. “Imagine him beaten and bruised. Pretend you’ve given him a black eye.” Boot tries to duck his head, tries to hide, but it only takes her a few seconds. “ . . . Boot?” Huh. So she can recognize us. Doublemint drops Boot, who promptly slumps, stares at the muddy snow. “What’s going on? Why—?” Boot glares at Doublemint. Doublemint stares back, almost certain that this is the right thing to do. “I said that you were abusing one of us,” Doublemint explains, looking at Twilight. “No . . . ” Twilight mutters, backing up, eyes wide. “You need to be nicer to him. Boot cares more about you than the rest of us combined. He—” Twilight leaps into the air and teleports away. Coppertop sighs dramatically, as glowing feathers rain down around them. “Well. That went exactly—” “Ahh!” Boot yells. Damn, but that Pegasus is fast. Coppertop is on his back in the muddy snow getting the friendship beaten out of him before Doublemint even sees Boot move. Coppertop ignites his horn and plucks Boot by his withers, holds him in the air, out of reach. Normally a Pegasus can’t defeat a Unicorn once he’s lost the element of surprise, but Boot’s been training harder than the rest of them at disengaging from magic. He throws Doublemint’s helmet at Coppertop, hits the Unicorn in the face with a clang. The magic holding him up sputters and drops him, and Coppertop collapses in a pile, groaning and clutching his horn. Boot lands on his hooves, wings flared, facing them with textbook posture for defense. Like Doublemint and Coppertop are Changelings— Sweet Celestia. Boot hasn’t been training to fight Changelings or Manticores or Nightmare Moons. He’s been training to take down his fellow Guards. Coppertop scrambles to his hooves, bellowing. Boot doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t fucking move, just holds his stance, waiting for Coppertop to make a mistake. One-on-one, Boot can probably take either of them, and Doublemint doesn’t like their odds together either. Doublemint grabs Coppertop and holds him back. “Come on, let’s go inside. Guard duty over. We’re already going to be in enough trouble. Let’s go.” Coppertop struggles for a couple moments, snarling, then turns and walks up to the castle doors without saying a word. Doublemint looks back at Boot, then follows. --- It’s several days after the apocalypse. True to Mantle’s word, Doublemint misses Storage Locker duty. He hasn’t seen the Princess since that night. The three of them have been scheduled so they’re apart as much as possible and Doublemint is pretty sure the next fuck up will have one of them packing his bags. None of them have said anything so naturally all the other Guards know exactly what happened, and have since given them all a wide berth. It’s going to be a rough month or so. Boot still treats him and the others with respect and nothing else. He hasn’t complained or whined or attacked any of them since that night. Honestly, that’s worse. Doublemint would rather Boot did something instead of just . . . looking so dead. On the other hoof, Coppertop has been short-tempered and snippy ever since. A real prick. For once, Doublemint’s social calculus is clear and quick, if unfortunate. Boot’s shift should have ended by now. Doublemint is waiting for him to return so he can apologize and maybe even invite him for drinks when the door to the racks blasts open. In stomps Princess Fucking Twilight Sparkle. She’s wearing a red sash and a green choker, both clashing horribly. Maybe even Doublemint’s choker. It must be on purpose. And she looks pissed. Something is very wrong. Not surprising. The whole situation is fucked. She marches into Mantle’s office and closes the door. Immediately the murmur picks up: no matter how shitty the situation, Twilight’s Guards like to gossip, and everypony’s got an opinion. Doublemint’s pleased to hear his own name in the chatter. Seconds tick by, and turn into whole minutes where Twilight is alone with Mantle and neither of them are yelling. The door to the racks opens again, and in staggers Boot. Silence again. Somepony gasps. Twilight has seriously fucked him up this time. Every single pair of eyes watches Boot ignore them, limp straight to the washroom, and close the door. Thankfully Coppertop’s on-shift right now. Otherwise he’d be teasing Boot again. Boot returns a couple moments later. His face is cleaned and he looks at least slightly more presentable. He removes his armor and climbs into his cot, immediately engaging in two of his favorite pastimes: staring at the wall and ignoring everypony else. A thump rattles the wall to Mantle’s office. If Doublemint didn’t know better, he’d swear something just exploded. Boot glances over, mildly interested. Then, just when the racks cannot suffer the hydraulic stress of another pony holding his breath, the door to Mantle’s office opens and Twilight walks back into the racks. She’s still pissed. Whatever she wanted from Mantle, she isn’t getting. As she walks she inspects each of them in turn, though Doubleming suspects she isn’t actually making eye contact, just searching. When she sees Boot she stops. Boot looks almost hopeful. Then she turns, faces away from him, and removes her red sash. Bulwark, an older Earth Pony, and Carnaval, a hilariously young Unicorn, immediately snap-to and press right into the Princess’s personal space. Some of the others certainly look interested. If Coppertop were here right now, he’d be doing so, too. But Doublemint stays put, and none of the others move to join either. Twilight shudders when Carnaval ducks his head between her legs and licks at her tailhole, then gives a final hopeful glance at Boot before leaving with her entourage in tow. Doublemint’s not really sure what he expected. Of course nothing’s changed. He sighs, then walks over to Boot’s bunk. Ce-lestia. Boot’s actually smiling. “Why the fuck are you so happy?” “She recognizes us. That’s never happened before.” He nods. “I see this as an absolute win.” “I think she recognized your black eye, actually.” Boot shrugs. “Are you still seeing her?” “We went on a date last night. Guard-captain Mantle gave up forcing her to take an escort around town. It was a little awkward, but still nice. We’re trying to make this work.” He smiles. “We went flying.” “Despite knowing she’s cheating on you.” “It’s not cheating if—” “Despite knowing she is deliberately trying to hurt you and push you away.” He sighs. “Yes. I can take it. I’m not giving up on her. She’s still worth helping.” Poor bastard. Boot’s worse than whipped. He’s a martyr, a pervert—and a hopeless romantic, filled with foalish visions of rescuing Princesses in Peril. “Wanna grab a beer?” he asks, gesturing at the door. Boot’s shift is over for the night, and it wouldn’t be the first time Doublemint has held his post drunk. “We can commiserate about the mares in our lives.” Boot looks skeptical. “You have mares in your life?” Doublemint punches him. “Fuck off,” he says. “In fact I do. There was this one filly I knew, a couple years ago . . . ”