> Princess Power > by Pretty Pony Pirate > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Muscle Memory > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mares don’t need to explain why they like muscles, but they often do have to explain why they have muscles. Having a muscular physique simply because she likes being powerful makes a mare slightly odd in the minds of most ponies. Being an athlete, a soldier, a heavy laborer, or suchlike are acceptable excuses, but they are excuses, nevertheless. Fortunately for me, I’m The Princess; I don’t need an excuse for anything. The assertion may seem counter-intuitive, but I believe that it is because I’m so huge that most ponies don’t immediately realize how muscular I am. I’m three times the height of an average pony and so, from any distance, I actually appear to be slimmer than usual. But close up, it’s blatantly obvious, even when my body is relaxed. The swell of thick shapes bordered by a lacework of clear definition are most startlingly evident in my neck, chest, and shoulders, but perfectly visible nearly everywhere else on my body if a pony cares to look. And ponies who are seeing me for the first time do more than look, they stare. I don’t know when I first became aware of it. I suppose it simply became more and more obvious as I grew from a slightly pudgy, newly-minted alicorn into my current huge regal form. Why I have developed such an imposing physique is a bit of a mystery. I don’t do any exercises that would create such a mass of dense and prominent muscle, but then both my horn and wings are also significantly larger than Celestia’s, so perhaps it’s all an expression of magical strength. I certainly don’t mind being extravagantly muscular. I don’t even mind the obvious shock and stares of the ponies who are getting a good close look at me for the first time. In fact, for those that seem remarkably fascinated by my physique, I’ll often put on a little show as a reward. I’ll make some excuse to move, to turn and look at something, or to call for a document or refreshment or something like that. I twist just a little more than necessary, tighten my muscles just a little more than is called for. When tensed, my heavy, soft muscles surge up into steel-hard masses, crowding against each other in deep, razor-clean definition. You might think that it’s the mares that are most appreciative when I indulge in a slow, luxurious stretch as I rise from my throne, but on several occasions some huge earth pony stallion has blushed and stammered like a school filly as I demonstrated that there was more sheer mass of muscle in my haunches than there was in his entire body. As you might imagine, I get—proposals, shall we say? They have been quite an education. I have taken lovers from the best of them. Well… best? I admit it, I am prejudiced in favor of a well-written letter or poem, and while I am careful to select only partners who are intriguing and seem capable of discretion, I have rejected some for substituting “to” for “too.” As it turns out, there are myriad ways that ponies express their admiration for a ridiculously powerful female physique. Surprisingly (to me, at least), a significant proportion of those involve a desire for outright physical domination. I know a score or more of unicorn mares that could twist a manticore into a pretzel with their magic, but for some ponies, there seems to be something special about being overpowered by sheer brawn alone. My partners from that group require a great deal of care. They are usually (but not always) slightly built stallions, and I have to be very careful not to damage them. Hurting them is fine. To squeeze the breath out of them with a casual flex is something they enjoy, breaking their ribs is not, even though some of them insist that they do fantasize about it. Squeezing their heads between my thighs is even more dangerous. With even a big, buff stallion, the difference between giving him an enjoyable amount of pain and crushing his skull like an egg, is a very fine line. Just a little involuntary spasm on my part and I’d be a murderer. I use a bit of magic to ensure that never happens, but I don’t tell my partners about that. The risk seems to heighten their pleasure. Shows of strength seem to go well with nearly every sort, and holding up a partner, pressed against a wall with just my wingtips as I roll my shoulders forward, making them and my neck and chest surge into a rippled topology of swollen, hard-edged shapes has never disappointed anypony. Cracking coconuts or smashing watermelons with a casual squeeze is also a favorite bit of exhibitionism. I once crushed a block of marble by holding it between my upper forelegs and flexing my pectorals against it, but the explosion of rock shards and dust made a gritty mess and one bit broke a pane in my bedchamber window, so I’ve never repeated the feat. At least ponies can eat the remains of coconuts and watermelons. Then there are those who are self-described “muscle worshipers.” They delight in stroking and kissing my body as I make my muscles dance and ripple beneath their hooves, paws, claws, or lips. (Yes, I am an equal-opportunity hedonist. Ponies who don’t know how sensual a sophisticated griffin can be with beak and claws are the poorer for that ignorance.) The sheer passion and awe behind the touch or kiss of a “worshipper” is just amazing, perhaps even addictive. No... definitely. Definitely addictive. Once, a zebra ambassador wrote an ode to my belly and inner thighs. It was titled “The Earthly Paradise,” was thirty pages long, and I am convinced that if it wasn’t so explicit it would be held up as one of the greatest poems of the past century. I take it out and read from it whenever I feel a bit gloomy, and it never fails to cheer me up. (Evidently, my nipples are “superb gems without equal.”) That I usually lose time out of my busy schedule by getting so frisky that I need to drag some convenient partner off for an hour or two of energetic fun after reading it, also helps to mend my mood. I certainly understand the attraction of a powerful physique, and I long before I had one myself, I had an eye for stallions with nicely chiseled bodies. Well… I’m trying to be absolutely honest here, so I have to admit that it wasn’t just stallions. My friends Applejack and Rainbow Dash both had superbly athletic bodies, and I often felt a bit envious of them. Sometimes that envy was strongly tinged with attraction. Which I strongly suppressed. Well, it was a long time ago, and I was woefully inexperienced and introverted. Things are different now. Everything is different now. Something I didn’t appreciate before I got my full growth was the point of view of such muscular ponies. I’m sure one of the reasons AJ and Dash ended up together was that they could let go with each other. To put it bluntly, in the throws of passion, a pony’s inclination is to become a mindless rutting animal and an unmoderated difference in sheer strength can be dangerous. Oh stars! Even when I’m trying to be crude, I end up sounding scholarly and analytical, don’t I? Even after all these years… Never-mind. The above is clumsy and inelegant, but let it stand as an introduction to another type of pony who is attracted to supremely powerful mares: creatures who themselves are extremely strong. To a stallion who has had to hold back all his life, the possibility of a lover whom he cannot hurt must be incredibly enticing. I might have had some vague thoughts along those lines, but it was an encounter with a sergeant in Cadance’s guard that brought it all into sharp focus for me. (No, he wasn’t a crystal pony, he was an earth pony from Fillydelphia. One of the few types I’ve never had an erotic romp with are crystal ponies. I can’t ever get the image of that slab of marble shattering out of my mind when I imagine what crystal might… Uhmn… Let’s get back on track, shall we?) Firehoof was an incredible specimen. I could go on all day about the perfection of his physique, but it would take a zebra poet to do it justice. Suffice it to say that he had muscles on top of his muscles, all in perfect proportion that didn’t make him seem bulky or bloated. He had a rump that could launch a thousand ships, and he knew it, too. In a lot of stallions, that would produce an unattractive arrogance, but he was only quietly confident and self-assured. We met when I visited the empire for Flurry’s graduation. I was not quite as big or powerful as I am now, but near enough. Firehoof was very professional and only stared when he was absolutely certain that nopony would catch him at it. But he did stare. He stared in that way. I stared back. I tried not to let him catch me at it, and I’m not certain to this day whether or not he did. Cadance wasn’t fooled for a second, of course. After a late supper she sent for the sergeant and told him to escort me to my chambers. She didn’t leer. Not even a little bit. I love her so much. I got up from the table and faked a slight yawn before I indulged in a long, slow, luxurious stretch. Cadance told Firehoof to lead the way, ostensibly to guide me to my rooms, but actually to give me a good view of his gorgeous rump in motion. Fair’s fair: I’d given him a show, and I was owed one in turn. We arrived at my suite and he opened the door for me, then stepped aside to allow me to enter. He bent his head slightly in a bow. Co-incidentally, that put his head closer to my chest and hid his eyes beneath the edge of his visor. I hesitated at the threshold and turned slightly toward him. Co-incidentally, that made my chest and shoulders flex, bunching my muscles up into taut ridges. It was a moment or two before Firehoof looked up, not quite certain of my intent. “Sergeant,” I said quietly, “may I say something to you of a personal nature?” “Of course, Your Highness!” he had the most adorable mix of concern and hopefulness on his face. “First, I want you to understand that, as we are not in public now, I want you to treat me as a friend rather than a princess, and I would like you to call me Twilight. No more protocol tonight, understand?” He knew then what was coming, I’m sure of it. He had a wonderfully sexy smile. “Yes, Twilight.” “Good! Now, I’m going to be blunt verging on the edge of rudeness, but if I’ve learned anything from polishing thrones with my rump, it’s not to waste time.” I cleared my throat and gave him my best come-hither smile. “You have a magnificent body, and as much as I like looking at it, I’d much rather feel it. As of this moment, you’re officially off duty.” I nodded to the open doorway. “Would you like to come in?” “I’d like that more than anything else in the world, you stunning goddess of a mare!” I do love a properly appreciative partner! He was out of his armor almost as soon as I managed to shuck off my royal regalia. His coat was creased by the armor straps and he was a bit sweaty from having worn his rig all day, which didn’t bother me in the least. His musk only added to my appreciation of how wonderfully, powerfully, male he was. Neither of us were shy. We had our mouths against each others and out legs around each other without hesitation. His luxurious muscles felt just as good as they looked, and judging by the way his hooves stroked and kneaded my own, he wasn’t disappointed, either. I gnawed my way down his thick and sinewy neck and when my muzzle got to the hollow of his throat, he flexed his broad chest for me. Stars, he was impressive! He was so lean and well-developed that the individual bundles of muscle fiber stood out with sharp clarity under his skin. I moaned in happiness and nuzzled the thick shapes of his rock-hard body. He nibbled delightfully on my ears as his hooves explored my shoulders where the interwoven muscles of my neck, back, and wings all came together. I made them dance and ripple for him. “Oh goddess!” he said, forgetting my ears for a moment. “Do that again!” I looked him directly in the face and gave him a predatory grin. I knew exactly what he wanted. “This?” It’s pretty amazing how much even an ordinarily well-developed muscle can change shape when it’s flexed. When several layers of incredibly developed muscle all flex at once... The huge sinewy cords between my shoulders leaped under his hooves, swelling and rising until he couldn’t managed to encircle them with his forelegs any longer. Perhaps I am a bit vain, but I positively wallowed in his expression of shock and amazement. Then I flexed my chest and shoulders as well. I pushed him down onto the bed, my thick, dense chest pressed hard against his, pinning him beneath me. I was a little concerned that being so easily overpowered by a mare might be a turn-off for him, but I needn’t have worried. His hooves continued to knead and stroke whatever parts of me he could reach, and as I continued to press down, bringing my belly into contact with his, there was hard evidence that my overwhelming strength only excited him. From the feel of it, it excited him quite a lot. I rippled my belly muscles against his swelling cock and he moaned, rocking his hips upward to press himself harder against me. Within moments I was reassured as to the intrinsic nature of the universe: It was completely and utterly unfair that a stallion so magnificently muscled, should also be so beautifully endowed. I pushed myself up off of him to get a look, and yes, beautiful was the right word. Not only was his cock of a truly impressive size, it was perfectly shaped and colored, wreathed in thick veins, pulsing beneath his velvety flesh. “Beware of my horn,” I said, not taking my eyes off of the thick curve of his penis. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before I dipped my head and took his hard shaft into my mouth, and after that he only made inarticulate moaning sounds. I couldn’t get my lips all the way to the base of his cock, but I nearly made it. It’s a good thing I had grown so large, or I’d never have been able to manage as much of him as I did. Poor guy must have never had a fillyfriend that could take much more than the tip. Well, I was determined to make up for that. He moaned and thrashed, his abs fluttering between smooth swells and thick, hard shapes, The big, prominent cords of his inner thighs jumping and squeezing as I sucked and bobbed my head. Then, just as I was wondering how long he could possibly last, he bit my horn. At my size, when I’ve got my head between somepony’s hind legs, my long, wickedly sharp horn is pointed pretty much at their throat. A bit risky in the heat of the moment, which is why I’d warned him just before I went down on him. I suppose, with me waving it right in his face... I didn’t hurt, but it surprised me and I let off a little flash of magic. Not much, just enough to cause a tingle that went around the circuit from horn to mouth to cock to mouth and around again, the vibration building up as it went. It felt amazing in my mouth. I can only imagine how it felt on his penis, but I got a very large clue when he screamed and erupted into my throat. That colt was damned impressive in a lot more ways than just his physique! When he’d finished, I let him slide from my mouth and snuggled up by his side. Okay, around his side, one thigh under his rump, and the top of his head nestled under my chin. It was quite a while before he could string a coherent sentence together, but he tired hard anyway. “Mmng...” It was adorable. I felt quite smug. He finally got to the praising part, and he went on at length as I nuzzled and nibbled at his ears. His hooves started to wander again and I obligingly stretched and flexed for him. He touched a sensitive bit under my left wing and I gasped and unintentionally squeezed his hoof between two adjacent flight muscles. “Are you okay?” I asked when he gasped and drew back his hoof. “I’m a little bit ticklish there, sorry.” He looked down at his hoof and then back up at me. “Damn! I can’t believe… How strong are you, anyway?” “I don’t want to scare you off,” I said. “I don’t think that’s possible, but...” He gave me that sweet, sexy smile again. “Give it a try!” There weren’t any coconuts or watermelons readily available, but I teleported a big field shoe up from the palace armory. It was a triple-thick chunk of iron made to stand up to heavy military use. I slipped it into the crook of my fore leg and squeezed. It folded like a piece of paper. “Damn! That’s impess—” I flexed harder and it crumpled like a used cupcake cup. He froze, staring wide-eyed. I relaxed my leg and let the twisted lump of iron thump to the bed between us. He was silent for so long, I thought that maybe I had scared him off. “You… You are a goddess. That’s just not possible.” “Alicorn magic. The strengths of all three tribes blended and amplified, that’s all.” Firehoof let out a long shaky breath. “I...” He was obviously at a loss for words, but his body clearly demonstrated his feelings. His cock was swelling again, growing harder and redder as his pounding heart pumped blood into it. I stroked his growing penis with a delicate touch of magic and he groaned in pleasure. “If you want to truly serve your goddess...” I said in a near whisper. “I do,” he whispered back. I pulled him to me, my lips ever so lightly gliding over his, and then his cheek, until they brushed against the edges of his left ear. I flexed my chest against his, making the muscles surge upward between us. “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Use every last ounce of strength in that magnificent, powerful body of yours to fuck me like no mare has ever been fucked before.” Well, that worked like a charm... no actual magic needed. There were a few frantic seconds as we shifted around into position (and somewhere in there, the thunk of a mangled horseshoe hitting the carpet), and then I was underneath him, my thighs spread apart and my tail held high. I was more than ready for him, the muscle-play having been stimulating enough to get me wet and winking, but he paused for a moment, just looking at me. “Oh, you are so beautiful,” he breathed, stroking and squeezing my haunches. It was sweet, but I needed a lot more than words right then. “Oh bleeding stars, will you please shut up and fuck me!” Like a good soldier, he did as ordered. He slid into me and I gasped and tightened around him. I had to force myself to relax to let him get all the way in. That huge cock of his felt incredibly good… stretching me… filling me… All my lower body muscles jerked and twitched wildly as he slid home, with those rock-hard thighs of his pressed solidly against my ass. “Ssso… tight,” he hissed. “So… h-hot.” I lashed him across the ass with my tail to encourage him to get moving. He gave a yelp and a jerk which made his cock surge delightfully inside me. “Alright, then,” he growled low in his throat, and rocked his hips back. I shivered in anticipation and then yelped myself as he suddenly thrust back in. His thighs smacked into my ass as he buried himself up to the hilt, forcing a moan of satisfaction from me. He thrust again and again, gripping my haunches with his fore-hooves so that he could pull himself into me with even more force. “Ha… Hard… Harder!” I gasped. I arched my back and lifted my tail higher. I crouched lower with my fore legs and my wings spread out all on their own, twitching and fluttering with each powerful stroke. Firehoof’s legs slid forward and tightened around my waist as he changed position. He drove his thick cock into me harder and faster. The smell of our sex filled the room and the wet, luscious sounds from under my tail made counterpoint to the slap of hard, muscular flesh smacking together. “Harder!” I groaned. “Please! Harder!” “I don’t… want to… hurt you,” he gasped between thrusts. “You won’t,” I moaned. “You can’t! Harder!” And that magnificently muscular stallion let himself go. The roar of his breath was like a steam engine as he rammed his steel-hard cock deep into my body. The thick muscles of his forelegs tightened with crushing force around my waist and his bulging brawny thighs slammed into my ass with enough force to batter down a stone wall. He pounded away at me with mindless, savage force, and I absolutely loved it! I moaned and writhed beneath him, impaled over and over again by that incredible cock of his. If he can only hold out, I thought. If he can keep going until I… He bit me. He leaned forward, took a thick bulge of wing muscle between his teeth, and bit down, hard. I screamed. A sudden violent orgasm grabbed me a shook me like an earthquake. I screamed some more. He made quite a racket, too, as the hot, wet muscles of my cunt tightened and rippled around his cock. I jerked my hips from side to side, actually dragging him along, as I struggled to squeeze every last iota of pleasure out of my climax. He burst inside of me, flooding me with thick, hot semen and one of my wings swept a lamp off the bedside table with a crash and he released his grip on me to gasp for air and we tumbled off the bed together. I lay there, tangled in the bed sheets and my own wings, a wonderful pulse of pleasure between my hind legs that echoed my heartbeat. Firehoof lay beside me, on his back, his thick cock at half-mast, but still pumping out a slow stream of cum. He reached out and stroked the curve of my thigh. “You are incredible,” he said. “I... I completely lost control, and...” “And it was wonderful,” I finished for him. “But don’t ever do that with an ordinary mare! Stars! You’d crush her or batter her to death!” “But you...” He leaned down and began kissing my belly. “I loved it, yes,” I confirmed as I stretched myself under his attentions. “Now, I’m going to send for a big jug of water and some light food, and then...” He took his lips off my nipple and looked up. I looked him square in the face and leered. “Round Two?” For the first time there was the slightest glimmer of fear in his eyes.