Prologue: Orgy at the Black Door

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They had found it. A full month of searching, combing through every inch of countryside, carefully monitoring the movement of every citizen and slave, and investigating every town sometimes quite literally with a fine-toothed comb. Princess Celestia, with a godessly decree had called, no, DEMANDED that all who resided in her domain be mobilized in service to the search effort. Celestia had sent out royal guards and E.U.P (Earth Unicorn Pegasus) soldiers to each town and village, while she herself monitored everything from her palace, a tireless and terrifying goddess. It was said that she had eschewed the mortal need for sleep from the first week, and with each hour, it was said that those in the castle could feel the rage, the pain, and the desperation emanating from her. All feared what she would do should they fail, and what wrath their mistress and goddess could rain upon the lands around Equestria if it should be discovered that any of THEM had a hand or claw in it. Then came the news: Princess Luna’s location had been found.

They had finally discovered the facility in the mountains, nestled on a cliffside in the mountains beyond Whitetail Woods, threatening to disappear into the unexplored territories to the west. It bore a symbol of a brightly lit alicorn horn surrounded by several pairs of alicorn wings that had been on the mocking ransom note in Luna’s chambers. Spitfire, mistress-captain of the Wonderbolts and commander of all of the air forces of Celestia’s military, stared up at the mighty construct from a mountain pass that acted as the strange facility’s front porch. It was not surprising that even the mighty double doors, made of a dark and entirely unnatural grey metal had gone unnoticed. Being about as far from any pony civilization one could think of, nopony would have had the chance, and the search would have turned back sooner except by the Goddess Celestia’s insistence. Now Spitfire could do little more than wait for Fleet Foot to get her message back to the nearest communications relay and stare at the massive door. Stare, and try to ignore her cute concubine slave Soarin, who was still huffing and sweating a little from the journey, not to mention half erect.

His snug elastic Wonderbolts briefs generally kept his sizable member clinging tight to his waist, but when he got like this he didn’t fear letting it stretch the fabric a little. He stirred a bit, and Spitfire could hear his hoof pawing nervously at the dirt. Spitfire slowly turned around, scanning over the other ponies in the group. All were her slaves, as a mistress of Master and Celestia she possessed the right to own those of lower social status than her, provided she in turn cared for them. With her promotion to captain, she had been given command of the Wonderbolts as part harem, part stunt team, and part military unit. Stood at parade rest were 3 other ponies besides her distressed prized alpha and herself: Misty Fly, High Winds, and Fire Streak all looked equally hot and bothered, and Spitfire could tell it was not just because they had been flying for 3 hours straight. A slight whimper emanated from Soarin.
Spitfire rounded on him; her eyes locked with his. Though she couldn’t see under his goggles, his head tilted down submissively, and assured her he was showing the proper amount of deference. She followed the direction of his gaze to the straining waistband, then looked back at his face with a raised eyebrow “You have something to say stud?”

“Yes mistress… horny…” he tried to fold his hands neatly in front of himself, but one bumped awkwardly against his throbbing bulge, causing him to start a little. Eventually, his hands clasped together, and he stopped moving.

Spitfire pursed her lips and tossed her head over to her other slaves. “You fucktoys horny as well?”
They nodded vigorously and said in near unison “Yes mistress…”

Spitfire scoffed, and rolled her eyes back over her other helpless slave, who still stood quietly and submissively, not wanting to ruin his case by seeming impatient. She smirked, and placed her fingers dramatically on her chin and supported her elbow with her other arm. This pushed her ample golden cantaloupe-sized breasts up and forward and caused the males’ pants to audibly creak, and the females’ hands to unconsciously twitch toward their dripping crotches.
Fun as the tease was, Spitfire did in fact have to do some quick mental math… It had taken them several hours to reach this point from their base in the clouds near Las Pegasus. But they had been wandering and searching the landscape for the entirety of the past 3 hours. Fleet Foot would likely be able to beeline directly back in 20 or so minutes, and she’d been gone for about 3…

Soarin let out a pathetic little whine.

Spitfire sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “You are too fucking cute Soarin slave... Fine, you may take off your flying panties.” She strode past him and gave his nicely rounded butt a slap.

He started again and his face broke into an ecstatic smile “Thank you mistress!” He carefully began to peel off his pants, taking care not to rip them as his eager boner sprang fourth.

His mistress sauntered over to her other slaves and snapped her fingers imperiously. “Windy, you get to be ‘Low Winds’ today, make mistress a comfortable chair.”

“Of course mistress!” She exclaimed. She then got down on her hands and knees, and unfolded her powerful wings. She held one up in the air at a steep angle, and allowed the other to sweep down to the ground, doing her best imitation of a deck chair.

Spitfire slid herself onto her newly made loveseat and sank languidly into the snow-white feathers. “Misty, get mistress lubed up! I want to make sure my little stud doesn’t hurt himself stuffing his fat fucking cock into me…”

“Of course mistress! May I use my mouth?” She asked politely.

“Have you been practicing with miss Fleet Foot like I asked? Spitfire inquired imperiously.

She nodded vigorously “Yes mistress! And we both loved it so much! Thank you for training me in carpet munching mistress!! Miss Fleet Foot said I was a good lover! I love it now, and I can even worship Mistress-Goddess Celestia’s lady parts if needed too!” She hugged herself gleefully and her wingtips fluttered with joy.

Her glowing smile and enthusiasm softened Spitfire a little. “Well, don’t keep your mistress waiting! I’ll rate you on how well you do, and if you do mistress proud, you can sleep in miss Fleet Foot’s bed tonight. And if you do REALLY well, I’ll let you give a demonstration at the academy with me!”

Misty squealed delightedly. “Thank you mistress! I’ll do my very best!” She then trotted over, and used her wings to swoop into to her knees in between mistress’s legs. She landed with the gentleness of a feather, shuffled forward the last few inches, and prepared to service her mistress.

Spitfire took a firm grip on Misty’s mint-blue mane and kept her head back so that her tongue could only just brush her mistress’s labia, causing her to let out a little moan of adorable distress, but she got to work diligently. Looking around, Spitfire could see that Soarin was undressed and fully erect now, his 14-inch navy blue horse cock flaring rhythmically. With his goggles off, it was plain to see his eyes were glued hungrily to his mistress. Her eyes lingered on this sight for a moment before she smiled seductively and crooked a finger at him.

While he strutted over, her eyes slid reluctantly away from his sexy body and over to her last concubine, and gasped! Poor Fire Streak was standing by the cliff wall, waiting as patiently as he could under the circumstances. His cock still trapped in his shorts, he was stroking it slowly and trying his best not to make noise out of turn or accidentally rip his nice blue shorts.

“Oh you poor little colt! Mistress forgot to tell you you could remove YOUR panties! Were you waiting patiently for mistress to give you permission?” she cooed half-mockingly, half sympathetically.

He nodded, a distressed look on his face. “Yes… mmm… mistress. I’m sorry, I can w…. wait…”

Spitfire had to control her face carefully, as she had come within a hair’s breadth of bursting out laughing. “Oh little slave… you did so good waiting for mistress, in fact, mistress was just going to give you a hand job, but for being such a good colt, you can fuck Misty for mistress!”

His stroking increased in speed. “Thank you mistress! Um… but…” He tilted his head down toward his bulge.

This time Spitfire really did burst out laughing, nearly losing her grip on Misty. “Oh HAH ha ha ha…! Oh… oh Streaky, you can take off your flight panties for mistress now! When you’ve put them away nicely in your bag, come over here and get to… oh!” A massive navy-blue cock obscured her vision from the side, and Soarin’s slightly labored breathing cut her off mid-sentence. “Naughty boy! You are just so eager!” She smacked his now exposed buttocks playfully, and Soarin let out a little gasp.

“Please mistress…” He whimpered.

“Yeah, yeah, you fat cocked stud, I hear you. Come to mommy…” She slid her hand delicately along his shaft, letting her fingertips trace along the bulging veins, they slipped over his preputial ring, which caused the poor stud to shiver, and ended their journey teasing around his sopping wet urethra. As he moaned again in delight, she quickly seized hold of his cock tip between forefinger and thumb, and directed the shaft towards her mouth, giving it a full lipped kiss, listening to her stud’s moan of longing. With a sigh of contentment of her own, she let Misty’s head free, and guided the massive member into her mouth.

Pleasure slammed into Spitfire’s brain, followed by an unpleasant gagging sensation. Misty Fly’s mouth made full contact with Spitfire’s labia, and her eager tongue darted deep into her mistress’s marehood. At the same moment, Soarin’s overeager cock had rammed down her throat as he thrust past her lips. Spitfire’s head tilted back instinctually, but the cock now rhythmically rutting between her lips prevented the movement. Soarin was gripping the side of Spitfire’s head with one hand and holding on to High Wind’s upturned wingtip with the other. He had begun to rut into his mistress’s mouth with the wild abandon of a breeding stud. Spitfire, for her part, was keeping her neck almost perfectly still as her toned and rock-hard abs strained to keep her steady on her seat. She spluttered, but failed to get Soarin’s attention, she muscled through however, and reined in her rowdy slaves with her powerful arms.

Misty came up for breath with a gasp and squeal of pain as Spitfire tugged her roughly back by her ear. At the same moment Soarin nearly fell over backward as Spitfire gripped his tail and yanked with the force of a freight train. His arm slid effortlessly off of his mistress, and he gasped as his cock popped free of mistress’s mouth. He huffed and snorted angrily at first, but as his brain caught up with his cock, he began stuttering an apology.

“M…mistress… I…”

She ignored him and licked her lips of the precum that had been dabbed onto her mouth by her stallion-cock chap stick. She glared up at him “You dumb FUCK Soarin! You want to treat me like a gloryhole? I will put you in a denial chamber when we get back to base, how many hours do you want to spend in a denial chamber?”

“N… none mistress… I’m sorry.”

She glared dangerously at him, ger imperious gaze piercing through his eyes. “Am I one of your common breeding bitches I give you so generously? Am I a fucktoy that other rich mistresses pay me to get bred and pleasured by my prized racing stud?

“No mistress! I…”

She snorted dismissively, then turned her attention to Misty Fly “Sweetie, you were doing fine, I just needed to concentrate on disciplining my stud. I did ask you lube though, so I don’t want to cum right now, ok?”

Misty nodded emphatically. “Yes mistress!”

“If you do well like I said, you can worship mistress properly at the academy demonstration, ok?”

“Ok! I love you mistress!” She sat up a little straighter and waited for Spitfire to release her grip.

“I love you too sweetie.” Spitfire smiled and guided her slave back to her pussy.

Misty gave out a little “Mmmph!” of delight as her lips pressed against her mistress’s crotch, and her tongue settled into a rhythm of slow, lustful circles, starting with Spitfire’s pussy lips, and swirling it all the way into the depths of her vagina before sliding out, kissing her mistress’s clit, and starting again.

Spitfire sighed and sat back into her bitch-chair, and peered over to the cliff wall to see that Fire Streak had put away his shorts in his saddle bag, which he had placed on the ground. He had begun to sidle over quietly, but had clearly frozen in place at his mistress’s outburst. His eyes darted first to his mistress’s face, then down to the ground.

Spitfire took pity on him, he had been so patient, and she could tell the poor thing was anxious. “Oh Streaky, it’s ok, mommy’s just mad at her naughty stud for thinking he knows how to get his dick off better than mistress. You’ve been a good little colt, and you know what? Mistress is feeling generous, come here Streaky!”

Fire Streak shuffled meekly over to his mistress’s side, a little light returning to his bashful lavender eyes.

Spitfire looked up with a frown at Soarin. “YOU on the other hand… I tried to be nice, but you couldn’t control yourself for one FUCKING minute while I lubed you up… That was a nice thing mistress tried to do for you…” She stroked the underside of his dick, tracing her fingers under the mighty bitch-breaker.

Soarin was desperate now, the precum from his monster cock dribbling steadily onto the dirt. “I’m sorry mistress… really sorry, I’m just really…”

Spitfire darted her hand down to the base of the shaft and gripped her fingers threateningly around her stud’s ballsack the size of a hundred-bit coin purse. Soarin went immediately silent, sweating a little bit. “I still want this fat fuckable hunk of meat, but now you are going to work to PROVE you want me to fuck it.”

She noted out of the corner of her eye Fire Streak had arrived at her side, his shoulders still hunched submissively, and his relatively smaller 8-inch member stiffly pointed across his mistress toward the much bigger male.

Spitfire released her grip on Soarin’s stallionhood and reached her other hand up to begin stroking Fire streak’s dick slowly, eliciting a cute little moan from the small, lithe colt.

“Soarin, you are going to lube up with Windy’s mouth. Kneel… NOW”

Soarin dropped immediately to his knees with a powerful thud. He had not even used his wings to slow himself down. “Good boy. Now get in front of her mouth, put your hands on your hooves, and if you cum so help me by Master and Goddess I will shove your pretty little ass into a denial chamber and throw the key over Canterlot Falls, do you understand?”

He nodded quickly, and did as he was told. He shuffled a few steps over on his knees, careful not to knock High Winds out with his stone-hard shaft. High Winds, for her part, began to pant and lick her lips in anticipation. She had been constantly wet throughout the whole ordeal, her arms and legs trembling with delight with being used as bitch-furniture, but she had not let mistress feel her weakness, and had kept her wings and abdomen stiff and supportive. Now she was being given a delicious exquisite fucktoy to moisten for mistress, and she was absolutely delighted! When Soarin’s member had settled in front of her, twitching, flaring, and drooling precum, she nuzzled his ballsack, taking a deep breath of his potent musk and wetting her muzzle a bit with his pre. He grunted fiercely, but sat back in the pose that mistress had described, on his knees, with his torso leaning back and his hands gripping his hooves and ankles, his cock totally exposed and vulnerable to High Wind’s affections. Windy began lapping and kissing at every bulging vein on his cock, while Soarin sat helplessly and praying silently for a blessing from the Goddess to not cum too soon.

Satisfied Soarin had settled in, Spitfire turned back to Fire Streak and smiled seductively “Let mommy suck your cute dick Streaky… you deserve a good treat! You also have permission to cum if you want, but I expect you to fuck Misty after ok?”

Fire Streak nodded enthusiastically, his face lighting up in an ecstatic smile. “T-t-thank you mistress! I’ll do my best!”

“I know you will sweetie.” She cooed.

With that, Fire Streak gently pushed his cock forward so that it would be in easier reach of mistress’s mouth, careful not to step on High Wind’s wing feathers on the way.

Finally, Spitfire had settled into a comfortable position: leaning back on Windy’s lovingly preened feathers, an eager Misty Fly slurping happily between her legs, and a warm, tasty cock in her mouth. Fire Streak’s cock lacked the powerful musky quality that she liked in Soarin’s, but it was stiff, of a pleasant length and thickness, and delightfully tangy with the little beta’s precum. He whimpered and moaned as her tongue swirled around his tip, then plunged to the base of his shaft as his cock sank into the depths of her throat. Mistress looked up idly at him as she suckled and teased his willie. She noticed that her slave had his arms crossed over his chest, clinging to himself so as not to touch his mistress and offend her like her stud had. Without breaking the rhythm of the blowjob Spitfire reached out a hand and drew out one of his elbows and guided the hand to her shoulder. He gripped it gently, and gratefully used it to steady himself. He then began to try to match his mistress’s rhythm by thrusting his hips a few inches back and forth.
Spitfire sat back languidly and allowed the little slave to have at her mouth. She slurped impatiently if he grew to hesitant or pulled out too far, and rewarded the deep thrusts with forceful, iron-clad gulps of his cock. He started to understand, and began hesitantly questing deeper and quicker with each thrust, soon he was pounding rhythmically at a nice clip, his balls slapping gently under his mistress’s chin. He let out a contented sigh and placed his other hand hesitantly onto one of mistress’s breasts, his hand sinking halfway into her soft mounds. Mistress moaned appreciatively, and guided his other hand down to the other boob. Fire Streak began to knead and thumb her nipples while he fucked her mouth gently.
Spitfire moaned approvingly.

Soarin glared up from his position on the ground with a strained and resentful gaze at his mistress and Fire Streak… that should have been him up there, showing his mistress how much he loved her velvety throat and tender affections, so that he could cum a full, creamy load into her stomach and then proceed immediately to ream her pussy and stuff her womb to satisfaction. The cuck was fucking now could probably only manage a thumbtack full of cum… a shot glass at most! He should have been servicing the lesser mares only… or maybe Soarin’s own bulging sack. He knew that Fire Streak would do it too… he was also a cock whore, as evidenced by the blowjobs he had given Soarin in the barracks along with his twin brother Lightning Dash. Both were subby little bitches that mistress encouraged to serve HIM, the alpha male, while they were in the stallion’s barracks. He would have to put Fire Streak in his place when they got back… These spiteful thoughts kept his cock turgid and unyielding as steel, but not cumming, while High Winds gleefully played her tongue over it like she was licking a comedically large lollipop.

Fire Streak was now moaning openly, his cock sliding smoothly in and out of mistress’s throat, her lips caressing and kissing his preputial ring, a sheen of saliva coating his bulging veins. Streaky was trying hard not to cum, Spitfire could detect. His cute petite muzzle was scrunched up in concentration, and his grip had tightened noticeably on his mistress’s breasts. Despite his grip, to her it made very little difference, and was more like a nice massage. She smiled mischievously as she slurped, she could of course continue to tease and torment her little colt, but she wanted to reward his good behavior.

She seized Fire Streak by the waist with both hands, causing him to freeze and tense up mid thrust. Spitfire tugged his cock out of her mouth with a gentle ‘pop!’. She licked her lips free of saliva and precum before letting him go.

“You can fuck Misty now baby, but let mommy give you one more kiss for luck!” Before he could react, she planted a kiss on his flared head, then slurped up his entire length one final time, gently, agonizingly slowly, feeling every pulse of his blood vessels as they strained not to send cum blasting out of his urethra.

He held on… it was a near thing, but he held himself back from releasing right then and there. He let out a strangled grunt of extasy. “MMmm..! T-t-thank you mistress!”

There was another audible ‘POP!’ as Spitfire released his rod from the grip of her mouth. “You’re welcome honey…”

She looked down to Misty Fly and tugged once on her mane.

Misty came up gasping for breath with drool and her mistress’s pre slathering her muzzle. She took a moment to lick her sodden lips and clear her throat before speaking. “Yes mistress? Am I all done? Did I do a good job?”

Spitfire traced a finger under her chin. “Yes sweetie, you can go have fun with Streaky now. And you did a VERY good job. I’ll tell miss Fleet Foot when she gets back, and I’ll bring you to my next cunalingus demonstration at the academy ok?”

Misty’s face lit up with delight and she fluttered to her feet. “Yes mistress! Thank you mistress!” Her pussy was drenched, Spitfire noticed, she wasn’t lying when she said she REALLY enjoyed cunt licking.

“Have fun you two!” Spitfire gave a little wave.

Misty sidled up to Fire Streak and planted a quick peck on his cheek before grabbing his hand and leading him over to a relatively flat and smooth boulder. As they bounced away, Fire Streak’s cock as still rock-hard, and openly drooled as Misty pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Spitfire watched her slaves fumble through pleasure-fogged foreplay for a moment, enjoying their cute little squeaks, giggles, and moans that drifted over from the rock they had chosen to fuck on. Misty’s hands played over Fire Streak’s chest, tickling his skinny sides, and squeezing his rump a few times as she showered him with neck and under-chin kisses. Fire Streak, for his part, was doing his best to please her too, one hand gripping and kneading her softball sized boobie while rubbing and teasing just below her belly button with the other. Eventually, Misty detached from the embrace and clambered on all fours up onto the rock to present her tight, slick pussy to him. Fire Streak gulped, looked back over to his mistress to see her nod encouragingly, then guided his cock in for a first exploratory thrust.

Spitfire was beaming with contentment as the two slaves started to go at it. As their rutting grew more and more passionate she contemplated that perhaps she should be getting on with her own pleasure. She cast her gaze to her side, and saw that another pair of eyes was watching the display.

Still stuck in his compromising yoga-like position, his hips thrust out, and his mighty fuckrod being slathered by Windy’s tongue, Soarin was watching the other ponies fucking with narrowed eyes and a dark scowl on his face. A quick glance at the ground and his shaft indicated that he had indeed followed mistress’s instructions, and kept his creamy white goodness inside him for the moment. “Soarin Slave!” She barked imperiously, snapping her fingers.

Soarin’s expression slackened to one of obedience and eagerness as his head snapped around to face his mistress.

Spitfire glanced slowly and meaningfully over to the rocks, then back to Soarin. “Do you think I punished you unfairly slave?”

Soarin’s mouth opened as if to say something, but his words became a grunt of exertion as High Winds teased his cock tip.

Spitfire yanked back her supporting slave’s dark, curly mane. “That’s enough Windy… you need to be a good piece of fuck furniture now…” Spitfire patted her chair’s padded rump to punctuate her point.

“Yesh mishtress!” High winds struggled to say through her saliva and precum, and she became perfectly stiff-backed. She then proceeded to lick her muzzle clean slowly and meticulously, trying not to move her neck too much.

That settled, Spitfire returned to her previous conversation. “Well slave?”

Soarin shifted uncomfortably; he had still not been given permission to move from his presenting pose. “I… slave was just so horny mistress… please forgive slave…” He was using the third person designation of ‘slave’. He was either trying his best to kiss ass, or it was a real display of utter humility. “Slave won’t do that again… slave knows you’re not a common breeding bitch… slave loves it when you give slave fun pussy to rut…”

Spitfire frowned and pursed her lips, then she got up from her slave chair and stretched languidly. She reached her arms up to the sky, twisting her slender waist so that her slaves could watch her back muscles ripple, her golden wings unfurl to their full length, and allow her perfectly round and soft buttocks to contrast against her angular washboard abs. Even the two slaves pounding away happily on the rock paused their exertions to take in a full display of their mistress’s full oblong melons with their plump nipples and bronzed, round, and plump areolas. When she turned sharply to face Soarin, he could take in the sight himself, and behold too her well-lubricated slit.

A moment later Spitfire’s voice brought him out of his revere. “What is a slave’s first thought, Soarin?”

Soarin’s voice held no hesitation “A slave’s first thought is his mistress’s pleasure.”

Spitfire nodded “And the second?”

Another simple question. “To obey mistress”

“Do you understand the difference between the two?”

This was a less easy question… “Slave pleases mistress by obeying?”

Spitfire sauntered over to her buff and helpless slave, raised her leg, and planted a hoof atop Soarin’s bulging and straining abs, just above his belly button. She leaned down, putting more and more of her weight on her hoof. “You first think about pleasing mistress, BEFORE she has given you an order. You then OBEY if I need to give you orders or correct you. Now, why do you think mistress was not pleased with your little cock stunt?”

Soarin was exercising his prodigious strength to keep his truncated Camel Pose steady with mistress’s added weight… and to not let the view get to him…
“Slave fucked mistress’s mouth too hard?” he strained out.

Spitfire slid her hoof off and to the side his ab shelf, and her other leg stomped around to the other side of his hips. Her pussy now dribbled onto the spot where her hoof had been planted “As if YOU could fuck me hard enough to hurt me… no Soarin Slave, mistress was not pleased with you forgetting why mistress allowed you into my mouth in the first place!”

Soarin gulped.

Spitfire snorted and leaned down, her legs spread around her slave and her rounded and toned buttocks showing off her fiery phoenix wings cutie mark. She gripped her hands on Soarin ’s ears, and stared directly down, locking gaze with his eyes. “When I give you the privilege of lubing up in my mouth, IF I do, you WILL behave yourself next time… Do you understand?”

Soarin nodded. “Yes mistress…”

She stood again, looking down at her slave imperiously. “Good. When I sit back down, you will get to work fucking me. No foreplay.” She turned and stomped her hoof angrily, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fuck! If you weren’t a stupid-fuckable cock slave I’d have sent you back through the academy from basic...”

His cock twitched visibly, and both ponies caught it out of the corner of their eyes.

She glanced at the fuckrod, then to Soarin. He stared up at her for a moment, then looked at the ground, embarrassed. Spitfire’s face broke into a salacious grin.

“Well, well, well… maybe if you be good… behave yourself for the next month… I might CONSIDER it then…” She turned back to her chair, sauntering over. “I should have figured you’d love all the fresh cunt and cock coming in for training. Now hurry the fuck up, on your hooves!”

“Yes mistress, thank you mistress” Soarin sat up onto his knees, and rubbed the place where mistress had planted her hoof. When he pulled his hand away, he eagerly suckled and lapped his hand clean of her pussy juices while gently stroking his cock.

Spitfire swung around the opposite side of High Winds that she had left from, and patted her flank. “Windy, give me your other wing, you’re going to need a nice and strong one now that Soarin Slave is going to finally please mistress.”

“Yes… *huff*… mistress…” High Winds was panting and trying not to moan aloud watching her dommy mistress exercising her authority. She folded her erect wing down, and brought the other one up to the previous angle. Despite the wetness between her legs, her panting, and heated breaths; she was unmoving and stiff. A perfect chair for her mistress.

Spitfire brushed off her slave-seat, and settled her rump languidly onto the soft chair back her slave had provided. From this position she could observe the mysterious black door that they had come here to find. It remained closed; its mysterious contents as yet unknown to even the omniscient Goddess Celestia… But no sooner had she settled into High Wind’s downy feathers and spread her legs when a massive blur of sky-blue and navy blue obscured her vision of any door.

Powerful hands seized Spitfire’s thighs and jerked them upward, drawing her pussy level with a dripping, pulsating, deliciously musky cock. Without preamble, Soarin slammed his cock into his mistress’s pussy. It was so lubricated, thrust with such force, it felt to both ponies like Spitfire’s cervix was barely there at all, save for the thunderclap of orgasmic pleasure forcing its way into both of their brains. Soarin began to huff and grunt, showing his practiced and eager rutting developed over a lifetime of being a breeding male. He shoved his cock’s length in until it was clearly visible as a mighty bulge that slammed past his mistress’s belly button, then drew it back until his beefy medial ring just barely stretched out mistress’s pussy lips, then rammed back in. And again. And again. And again!

When Spitfire spoke, she had to grind out each word in between each thrust and explosive scream of pleasure. “AAAGH! MMMMmmm… FUCK!! Good job sweetie, my little MMMMFFF-FUCKING COCK SLAVE!!!”

Soarin for his part just snorted and snarled, keeping his hands firmly gripping his mistress’s legs, and pounding away in a steady rhythm until ordered otherwise. He tossed his head over to look at the other pair, and saw that they were laid out on the rock, having moved to a laying fuck position. He could see from here that Fire streak had cum already, the cunt he was fucking dribbled with it. He seemed tired, but was keeping himself hard so that he could make sure Misty would be satisfied, and was pushing through his own exhaustion for her. He pumped earnestly and fondled a breast awkwardly with one hand and groped her thigh with the other while trying not to get slapped in the face by her twitching and flapping wingboner. Misty let out the occasional encouraging moan and a coaxing word or two in between gasps of pleasure as she fingered herself alongside her partner’s efforts.

Soarin snorted with derision. Pitiful. He would show that cuck how a real stallion pleased their mares! He wrenched the length his cock out of his mistress until just the flaring tip was stuck at the entrance to her pussy.

Spitfire let out a moan, then a primal snort of rage. “WHO TOLD YOU TO STOP-” But she never finished her epithet, as Soarin bore down on her. He plunged his muzzle between her head-sized melons, and gripped both hands on High Wind’s back as he began to kiss and suck on his mistress’s breasts, while redoubling his efforts to stretch her womb with his cock. With each thrust, Soarin grunted and moaned, while Spitfire groaned satisfactorily.

“Soarin, you dirty little… MMPH… Fuck machine! I am going to… AAAH! Have to wear yooOOU out at home with your UuuuGHH… cocktoys!” She grinned down at her thrusting and worshipping slave and gripped his mane behind his head, forcing him deeper into her cleavage.

A whimper of desperation sounded from Spitfire’s left, and when she looked, a longing and helpless emerald-green eye stared back at her.

Through the fucking, the shows of dominance, and the diligent servicing of her mistress, High Winds had reached her breaking point. She was panting and drooling openly as she craned her neck back to watch her mistress being pleasured by her powerful breeding stud. Spitfire looked to her right, and saw her tail was raised, and her rump quivered as it tried to remain steady, but with a questing finger, Spitfire reached down between her slave’s legs and caused her erstwhile seat to buck under her.

“Awww… is my little chair MMMPPH… Fuck! Horny too?”

“Yes mistress…” Windy’s voice was barely above a whisper, and was difficult to hear above the slapping of Soarin’s pussy pounding.

“Well let’s fix that, and we can all cum when you cum, okay bitch-toys!?”

Both ponies were too preoccupied to speak, so each nodded, which was good enough for Spitfire.

She reached down to her slave’s quivering and dribbling pussy and caressed around it. High Winds bucked as she let out a gasp and a scream of pleasure. “PLEASE MISTRESS PLEASE I’VE BEEN A GOOD PONY PLEASE FINGER ME AAAAGGGHHHH!”

Her words were cut off in an orgasmic scream as mistress obliged and slid two fingers in, lazily swirling them around as her slave tightened instantly around them, desperate for release. Sorin took the hint and promise of cumming to heart, and made sure he was ready for the moment that mistress would give him permission to show off what he could do. Spitfire lazily began to fondle her cute stallion concubine’s ass as he continued his rhythmic thrusting.

The stately Spitfire and her disciplined concubines had devolved into a tangle of limbs and dribbling fuck juices. Soarin was sweating all over, and drool trailed from one of his mistress’s plump boobies as he continued pumping, letting out the occasional huff or grunt as he thrusted. High Winds’s arms and legs were shuddering as she tried to balance mistress and her stud on her back, while simultaneously attempting to resist the thrusts of said stud, all while her body was being wracked and assaulted with pleasure. Her porcelain white pussy was drooling onto the ground almost as fast as her mouth, and she could feel every muscle in her body burning like no workout she had ever experienced, but feeling pleasure like nothing else. Atop it all, resting comfortably on her struggling slave, pinned by her prize male, Spitfire could feel the orgasm building in her, and if she had any expertise in the matter (she did), she could feel the ones building in her loyal, loving, and obedient slaves.

“Oh… mmmph… okay my sexy little… ahhh… ponies… on threeeeOoooohhh!” She nearly failed to hold on herself as Sorin bucked extra hard in anticipation.

“One…” The rhythmic slapping of Soarin’s huge, desperately swollen balls against her rump was just as effective as a spanking.

“Two..!”

High Winds was panting openly, huffing, and moaning barely above a whisper “Mistress… *huff*… mistress… love you… mistress”

“ThreeMMMMAAHH!” Spitfire gripped Soarin’s firmly clenching buttocks as he slammed his cock to the hilt and unleashed his spunk into her needy womb. Wave after wave of pleasure and white-hot cum pumped through her as Soarin seemed to be desperately trying to spray his baby batter as hard as possible into her. She felt a shudder under her back, and despite her hazy fuck-addled brain, she flicked out her wings. With a powerful flap, she leapt up from her seat, and Soarin was pushed erect to a standing fuck position, his cock not stopping his pumping and thrusting and his hands still full of his mistress’s thighs. Behind Spitfire, Windy collapsed from exhaustion and multiple wracking orgasms, her cunt squirting forcefully and her body twitching and spasming as she vigorously stroked herself.
Spitfire locked eyes with Soarin, and flapped her wings again. She thrust herself up until her pussy just kissed the tip of his cock in a perfectly calculated maneuver that they had practiced many a time before, then she crashed down again. Another spurt of cum rocketed into her, and she tightened again in pure bliss as she screamed with delight!

Soarin had perhaps a second to prepare in that moment, he had managed to get his hooves stabilized only just in time. His knees strained as the weight of his mistress’s toned rear slammed his whole body with incredible force, and his aching balls started to happily drain again as a second wave of orgasm hit him. He held tight to Spitfire, hugging her close and growling and snarling with effort as he sought to pump her as full as possible with his seed. He felt her belly bloating with each pump pressed against his abs, and this only encouraged him more. Her pussy, now leaking both of their cum merrily onto the ground, tightened again satisfactorily, and Soarin grinned manically as her third consecutive orgasm gripped her. She snuggled against his chest as the pleasure shot through her body. Soarin hugged her fiercely back and planted a covetous kiss in her mane. His orgasm came to an end, and he felt his mistress relax in his arms. She seemed done too, satisfied and content. Soarin felt his knees weakening, but held on as best he could until Spitfire chose to get back on her hooves again. Soarin looked over at the pair on the rock, grinning with a combination of glee and smugness to see how the bitch and his mare were getting on.

Fire Streak and Misty Fly seemed to be engaging in a bit of after-fuck cuddling. Fire Streak appeared to be utterly exhausted, he lay limply on his side, letting his dick drain and his wings lie limply off the edge of the rock. Meanwhile, Misty Fly nuzzled him and planted gentle kisses on his muzzle and cheeks. Her hands played around his waist, and she squeezed him in a little hug every now and again. For his part, he rested his hand on one of her forearms and was rubbing it awkwardly, trying tiredly to return her kisses, and replying with barely more than whispers. Now that things had quieted down, Misty’s soft words drifted through the gentle breeze floating through the mountain pass.

“…so good Streaky… thank you for working so hard… I love when mistress gives me a good cock like yours to fuck! Did you feel good too?”

Soarin didn’t listen to the reply, but instead huffed and hefted his mistress’s ass cheeks in his hands, getting a firm grip on them and bundling her up in a sort of bridal carry. He tried to remain upright and stoic, but staggered a little on the way over towards the pair of fellow slaves, marching with purpose, he tried not to jostle his mistress too much. Sometime on his way over, his sizable member flopped out of Spitfire’s slit, and both ponies began positively spurting cum as the gravity drained it from their each of their sexes.

When Spitfire sensed that they were close to the rock, she slid out of her stud’s thick, muscular arms and stood over the two smaller ponies. She bent over the tired little colt on the rock, giving Soarin a wonderful look at her perfect ass.

“You did great Streaky!” She cooed, giving him a playful pat on the cutie mark. “What a trooper you are!”

He stirred, trying to fold his wings in and turn his body to look at his mistress proper. “T-t-thank you *huff* mistress…”

She gave him a proud smile and turned to Misty. “And how about you Fly fucktoy? Your pussy itch all scratched? Or do you want to play with Soarin for a minute or two?”

Misty Fly shook her head and pecked Fire Streak’s cheek again just as he managed to sit up. “Nope! All better mistress!” Fire Streak blushed shyly at her glowing review.

Spitfire glanced up at Soarin, who was valiantly standing at attention, still sweaty and breathing hard from his marathon ordeal. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. “And how about you my cute little stud? You ok to wait for mistress Goddess? I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

He nodded. “Yes mistress. Thank you mistress for letting me drain my balls in you… did I please you?”

Spitfire smirked and trotted past him, spanking his flank with an open palm as she did so. She nearly sent him off balance with the force of the blow and his exhaustion, but he kept his footing. “Yeah, sure. Now sit your ass down and rest stud. I want to be in somewhat presentable condition when Mistress-Goddess arrives. And if she wants prime dick after her trip you better be ready!”

“Yes mistress.” Soarin rubbed the spot where mistress had struck him. Perhaps she had picked up on his ulterior motive in asking if he had pleased her after all: that Soarin had simply wanted to use her response to rub in Fire Streak’s face later.

Fire Streak himself hung his head limply, his breathing ragged and slow. He steadied himself with a gentle arm from Misty Fly. When Soarin turned his head back to face them, Fire Streak looked up at him, saw the distain in his face, looked down submissively at the ground. He began scooting to the edge of the rock, trying to make room for Soarin. Misty followed suit, moving closer to Fire Streak and wrapping her wing around him in a hug. She looked up at Soarin and extended the other wing invitingly. Soarin rolled his eyes, and decided to accept her cuddly demeanor if he wanted to obey his mistress’s command. He planted himself on the rock and let the sun caress his coat as lemon-colored feathers enveloped him. He settled into their warmth, admiring the natural beauty of the mountain pass, marred only by the black door… and his eyes began to slowly drift closed…

Soarin felt the wind leaving his body as a tangle of limbs and hair collided with his torso.

He let out a grunt of surprise, and his wings unfurled defensively, shoving Misty and Fire Streak behind his protective wing. He struggled with the wriggling thing in his arms a moment before snow-white feathers fluttered past his eyes, and he felt how warm and pliable the something that hit him was…

High winds managed to right herself in Soarin’s lap, adjusting her petite frame so that her buttocks sat comfortably on one of the massive stallion’s thick and powerful thighs. She then leaned back into his broad and muscular chest and sighed contentedly, tickling his chest with her frizzy and curly mane.

It was only then that Soarin spotted his mistress towering over him. “Clean her up Stud” She procured a handkerchief from seemingly nowhere. “She worked extra hard for mistress, and obeyed me…” She glowered meaningfully. “You clean her up and make her look presentable for Mistress-Goddess, and I will forgive you for your little stunt earlier, clear?”

Soarin took the cloth meekly and nodded, still rubbing his solar plexus from when Spitfire had thrown High Winds into him. “Yes mistress, thank you mistress…” It was only at that moment he realized his coat on his thigh holding up High Winds was sticky and wet. He sighed, and got to work, starting from her sopping wet waist and belly.

“Thank you mistress! I’m gonna love being serviced by a big strong stud!” Windy giggled, and another voice giggled alongside her from Soarin’s right. Misty Fly peeked out from around Soarin’s half raised wing and planted a welcoming kiss on Windy’s cheek. Windy got more involved with the kiss and both mares smooched happily.

Soarin sighed and gripped High Winds’s waist with one arm, and began wiping between her thighs and his, and planting occasional kisses on her neck. She preened under his attention and nuzzled under his chin, letting out little moans and coos while Misty Fly nuzzled both mare and stallion.

Her slaves sufficiently taken care of; Spitfire swept over to the black door that had brought them out so far from Equestria… Landing lightly in front of the solid black artifice, she wondered how it got there. Looking around she couldn’t see any evidence of construction, though of course it could have always been done by magic…
She reached out hesitantly to touch the matte black metal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you…” Said a sultry voice from behind her.

Chapter 1: The Declaration of the Caribou

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Spitfire whipped around, spinning and dropping to her knees in one smooth motion. She would have recognized that voice spoken in a crowded stadium, whispered under a waterfall, or whipped through the wind a thousand miles in the air. She hit the ground, bowed her head to her chest, and folded her hands neatly in her lap with her wings held tight to her back.

“Mistress Goddess, you have blessed us with your presence… how can your slaves please you?” She intoned with restrained joy and reverence.

Spitfire could feel an aura wash over her from her Goddess’s body as Princess Celestia stepped forward. This occurrence was familiar to her, and was normally an aroma like sun kissed grass, a feeling of the gentle warmth of a summer’s day, and the pure magic of love that had made Equestria a heaven on earth all at once. All of these combined to make the princess, all the other alicorns, as well as Master a pure delight to be around.

What Spitfire felt instead was an oppressive… all-consuming HEAT. As if she was kneeling near a blast furnace protected only by a closed door. Spitfire shivered… she couldn’t comprehend the restraint Celestia was having to use… she had heard that the goddess was… upset… but she couldn’t possibly imagine…

“Rise, my subject. And please step back out of the way.” She said plainly, but with the authority an all-powerful ruler could muster.

“Yes Goddess…” Spitfire propelled herself with her wings to increase the speed at which she could obey.

The first flap of her magnificently honed wings brought her straight up, landing at attention. The second flap occurred in tandem with a kick of her powerful legs, shooting her behind her goddess as instructed.

Spitfire’s hooves screeched her to a halt behind her Goddess about 5 paces away, and she stood at parade rest, ready to serve should her ruler and mistress need her.

Spitfire paused for a moment to take in her surroundings. She looked behind her and saw that her slaves had all moved off of the rock they had been cuddling on and were lined up in a neat row, all bowed as submissive slaves should to the Goddess of the land, prostrated on the ground with their hands placed palms down on either side of their head. She noticed that the handkerchief that she had given Soarin was abandoned on the rock, dribbling and sodden. A quick glance over at High Winds showed that she was no longer dripping. She smirked, satisfied that Soarin had done his job. When she turned back to face forward, she had meant simply to inform her mistress that her slaves were ready to serve as well. Instead, however, she caught her breath.

Celestia was gliding her hand over the black door, seeming to be feeling for a seam or perhaps a magical sensor. Her mistress stood a towering 10 feet tall from hoof to ears, and wore only a jeweled golden crown upon her head, her golden horseshoes, and her regal golden peytral about her neck, looking more like a broach with how massive she was. But her height was hardly surprising, since Spitfire was a regular attendee in Celestia’s court and her team’s shows were regularly performed in Canterlot. Spitfire was instead mesmerized at the sight of her Goddess from behind. Specifically, the behind from which a long, flowing, rainbow-colored tail swished above a butt… no… an ASS… that could have crushed a normal pony from muzzle to waist if sat on across their body. Her gaze drawn as if by magic, Spitfire’s eyes glided slowly and longingly up Celestia’s smooth and upright back, framed not by a fashion model’s subtle contours and slender waist but curving, doughy cushions of love handles that on her frame gave her just the right amount of pudge and the appearance of a curvy vase rather than a traditional hourglass. Flowing over her shoulder blades her glorious primary feathers the length of a full-grown pony flowed down from her wings like a cape of pure white plumage. Spitfire and many other pegasi would have given truly anything to touch even one soft feather from their Goddess’s wing, or witnessed her unfurl them to their full length for flight. With them closed however, the pegasus could see the mountainous mounds of flesh that contained nothing short of everypony’s hopes and dreams, bundled into globular packages a ‘mere’ two and a half feet in diameter, each. Her breasts were visible even from behind her… spreading out from her chest and around her sides, each weighing as much as two mares, yet she carried them as though they weighed nothing. Above her relatively slender shoulders, her neck was concealed by a flowing pastel sea of mane, hypnotic in its waving, and said to be so soft that a pony could bury herself in it and not need to come up for air. Topping her crowned head was a magnificent nearly 3-foot-long horn that without millennia of practice ducking under arches and oversized castle doors would have caused problems for any other pony… just the sight of her…-

“Mistress Spitfire…”

Spitfire jolted, and glanced down to meet the deep magenta eye peeking out from behind an avalanche of rainbow-colored mane. She could feel her Goddess’s baleful gaze piercing her, and it froze her in place while she spoke.

“Get behind cover… I fear that this door is sealed against magic quite heavily… so I will have to use a more… extreme method to gain entrance. Make sure your slaves are safe, but stay hidden until I call for you, I do not know what is behind this door.”

Spitfire nodded once. “I will Goddess.” She rounded on her slaves and paced towards them.

Her slaves instinctively popped their heads up as Spitfire stopped in front of them and fluttered her wings before speaking.

“With me Soarin. The rest of you, to attention.” She barked, falling into her drill instructor mode.

Fire Streak, Misty Fly, and High Winds all scurried to their hooves and waited together for Soarin and Spitfire to finish.

Spitfire led the way. Approaching the rock on which Fire Streak and Misty Fly had cuddled and fucked not a few minutes ago. When she reached it, she and Soarin bent at the knees, grasped under the lip of the massive slab of stone, and hefted it upward.

A normal non-earth pony of Equestria would not have even caused the 15 foot long and 7-foot-wide slab of orangish granite the slightest bit of disturbance. A fit earth pony in the past might have been able to make it wobble on the base of mountain soil that it had weathered away on. Spitfire and her muscular beefcake slave together hefted the slab upright as if it were merely an unwieldy piece of wood. It was soon standing erect, making a 3-foot-thick wall that several ponies could hide behind. She and Soarin flew to the top of the slab and leapt up into the air with a few flaps of their wings in unison. When they reached a height of roughly 30 feet into the cold mountain air, they then rocketed downwards, plunging their hooves into their makeshift barricade. The slab of stone buried itself almost a foot into the softer soil before Soarin and Spitfire dismounted.

“Alright, everypony behind here, NOW.” Spitfire snapped.

Her slaves trotted hastily behind the stone, on the way, Spitfire smacked Misty Fly on her cute little bubble butt, partially to stop her rubbernecking to look at Celestia, but partially just for the hell of it. She squeaked cutely for Spitfire and giggled before she hustled behind the rock.

After her slaves were sufficiently behind the rock, she stepped behind it herself, with just her eyes poking around the edge, curious as to what the Goddess would do. Soarin peered around the other side of the slab, bracing it with his hands just in case.

Just as Spitfire hoped, Celestia seemed to perceive that they were ready despite her back being turned.

Spitfire watched as Celestia pulled back her arm.

“AAAAARRRGGGHHH!!”

A hideous roar of rage and pain exploded from Celestia’s throat… With a mighty CRASH, and a grinding sound of metal on metal, her hand punched with incredible speed and power at the black metal door, causing it to buck and warp. The shockwave alone was enough to cause the stone slab to shudder in place.

BANG!

BANG!!

BANG!!!

Over and over again her fists slammed against the door, causing a larger and more forceful shockwave each time. Stone began to crumble from the mountain peaks above them and tumble down the slopes to the forest below. Her fury grew with each explosion of force, and Spitfire heard a primal roar escape her Goddess… the Royal Canterlot Voice erupted from her lungs and made the very stone under Spitfire’s hooves tremble.

“GIVE… ME… BACK… MY… SISTER!!!!!!”

Each word was punctuated with an even more forceful blow, and a horrific wrenching noise could be heard as the metal collapsed and buckled under the assault. Spitfire watched as a globule of white-hot metal spattered to the ground only a few feet away from the stone slab, and ducked her head back behind it in case there was more.

More ferocious screeching of metal, more earth quaking blows, and Spitfire wondered for a brief moment if her hastily erected barricade was enough to shield them from her Goddess’s wrath…

“So you wish to declare war with Equestria?” Princess Celestia clarified calmly.

The shocked silence that had followed King Dainn’s declaration at the summit following the Convocation of Creatures in Canterlot was poignant, filled to bursting with tension. Every face of every creature in attendance had frozen in to strained edifices of stress or dark scowls of loathing. Yaks, kirins, griffins, deer, dragons, the catfolk of Abyssinia, seaponies/hippogriffs, Diamond Dogs, a smattering of other various species, and even the reformed changelings made up the meeting… and of course one particularly loud and misogynistic Caribou, his bodyguard, and his slave…

Their myriad eyes fixed on either the Amarezonian-statured pony empress or the burly king of the Caribou.

The latter slammed his fist on the table, his eyes lit up with fire and fervor. “The free reign of cocksleves like you are coming to an end! Females of all the races will be brought to heel once you are shown your rightful place! As subservient to males!” He declared triumphantly.

Another silence. Celestia’s eyebrow raised slightly, a smirk causing her muzzle to furrow cutely.

The expression seemed to enrage the Caribou. “Don’t you make that face at me whore! Or didn’t you hear me!?”

Celestia raised her eyes to the heavens, the smirk becoming a full-on sardonic grin as she only just resisted rolling her eyes. She instead forced them to look over to her right, where another figure sat alongside her at the head of the table.

“Did you hear that My Lord? Apparently, it’s war. I’m trembling in my shoes myself, how about you?”

The human male, a man whom all in Equestria knew as Master, sat in a similar, though far smaller throne-like chair next to her, parted his lips reluctantly from the mouth of the servant girl he was cuddling.

He grinned conspiratorially back at Celestia, his voice cheerfully mocking “My goodness! Not to worry my Empress! I know just what to do!” He tried not to snort derisively as he planted another kiss on the pony in his lap. “Lemon Hearts my dear, I need you to go tell mistress Rarity to prepare my formal uniform and wargear, Mistress-Goddess Celestia and Luna will doubtless want theirs too.”

Celestia waved a hand dismissively. “Not for me actually Lemon Heart, I’m trying to be more casual about wars, and armor and uniforms have become more…” She glanced down at the magnificent acre of cleavage only just barely contained and supported by her flowing, pure white caftan dress. “Inconvenient…” She sneered at King Dainn. “…and unnecessary”

Dainn spluttered at this dismissal of himself and his declaration. “Pathetic, YOU, one who calls himself ‘Master’. You are going to let your bitch countermand you!? And what of my declaration!? I can assure you it is in earnest! My men…!”

“Your men were going to barge in here and take the delegates of these other nations hostage if I refuse to negotiate?” Master finished the sentence for him. The other delegates looked around, alarmed, and their respective bodyguards, the only other attendees to the meeting, tensed and readied weapons. But everycreature relaxed when no danger presented itself.

“Y-“ Dainn stopped himself “DON’T CLAIM TO KNOW ME, CUCKHOLD APE!”

It was Master’s turn to raise his eyebrow. “Wow, ok, can’t honestly say I’ve heard that one before… Tell you what, for that, I’ll address your concerns earnestly…”

He directed his speech to the delegates and rulers in attendance.

“Ladies and gentle-creatures… I would like to formally apologize, and beg your forgiveness for this matter to have arisen during a conference of peace and-“

Dainn snorted derisively, and sat down heavily in the chair opposite the two rulers across the long table. He jerked the collared caribou female kneeling next to him down towards his crotch, where a bulge could be seen growing in his loose fur lined pants.

Master averted his eyes. “-and friendship… I beg you allow the guards to escort you to your respective quarters in the guest castle… and if would be amenable to you, I would resume the discussion of a willing alliance between our varied states… tomorrow.”

Many of the creatures assembled nodded and began to leave one by one… many grumbled and shot dirty looks at the intruding king as they did so. They had gone from a civilized meeting and friendly discussion to an uncomfortable silence when Dainn and his bodyguard burst in, dragging his slave by her red collar, and throwing snide, misogynistic, and speciesist comments around as he did.

The guard had informed Princess Celestia that he had demanded to be allowed in as a delegate of the Convocation of Creatures, else he might have been subdued and kept in the dungeons until the meeting was over for the rulers to deal with later. But Mistress-Captain Spitfire, Captain Fizzlepop, and Captain Flash Sentry had all agreed that Celestia had stated that a legitimate nation’s representatives and delegates were to be allowed in… he just hadn’t been on the expected guest list.

“On matters of resuming the talks, I must decline, rulers of Ponies…” A gentle but firm male voice spoke up from halfway down the table as the members of other races continued to file out.

Master looked at the speaker. “And may I ask why that might be, King Aspen?”

King Aspen, leader of the deer city of Thicket that resided in the Everfree Forest, faced Master and Celestia as he clasped his flowing forest green travelling cape about him. The long cloak covered his tall and willowy build coated in pure white and subtle tan fur. The Heart of the Forest, a bright red vial of glass that held a magical water, formed the broach of his cloak, and contrasted strongly against the green and gold of the fabric. Aspen’s seedling-green eyes swept the table between the two opposing sides of the table, where Dainn stood on one side, and Celestia and Master on the other.

“I knew from the start it was a mistake to allow myself to be dragged into the politics of the world outside my forest… moreover to be faced with the prospect of so abhorrent a concept as slavery being openly practiced, and in addition to the outside world disrupting the balance of nature and threatening my people!”

Celestia shook her head in disagreement. “Aspen, you have it all wrong. Nopony in Equestria would enslave or threaten you or your people… HIM on the other hand…” She shot a look at Dainn, then returned her gaze to Aspen. “His people do not use the word ‘slave’ in the same vein as we in Equestria do… we-”

Aspen sneered, his long, elegant snout, peeling it back to reveal his teeth. “You both use the term, yet you dare to claim that HIS use of the word is different to YOUR use of the word!? I see no difference.” He spat disgustedly. “You own the body and life of another creature; you use them for…” He cast a baleful eye over to Master, who sheepishly held Lemon Hearts against his chest, his cock still firmly stuffed into her dripping pussy. “Wanton and empty breeding rituals.” He turned to face Dainn, whose hand was placed firmly on the back of the head of his slave as she kissed and sucked at his cock. “Or perhaps just to sate your own rampant lusts? An obsession for control? These rituals are yet more disturbing in that light.”

Dainn stared haughtily back at him. “Not at all… there is no ritual, Females exist to please males. That is a fact that the Caribou came to terms with a millennia ago. What we call ‘slaves’ you would call ‘natural’. Surely your cows are weaker? Smaller in stature? More suited in their skills to maintaining the household? And they produce broods of calves do they not? That’s mostly what they’re good for, and they’re inferior at everything else a Stag is capable of.”

Aspen recoiled at this cold and cynical description. He glanced to his side, seeming to only just remember the beautiful doe who stood next to him. She had shuffled away from the bombastic caribou during his entrance and clutched a hand to Aspen’s arm. He took her hand in a reassuring grip and placed himself more firmly in front of her, scowling at Dainn. Aspen’s darker and wirier bodyguard taking up position behind her, staring intently at Master and Celestia.

“You have described the general appearance of many of our does, and you have assumed their role in our society with the callousness of one who has never met a woman… but a servant.” Aspen said with venom. “Your assumption that they then are worth nothing but to be used as toys of sex and servitude is yet more disgusting. You relegated them to a role based off of their perceived ‘inferiority’, when our own does fill as wide a range of roles as our stags. If not, simply differing ones.”

Dainn huffed “You don’t yet understand then the importance of protecting your females from thinking above their station.” He said this with a look of smug surety in his beliefs. He then reached over and seized his collared charge roughly by the back of her neck, jerking her up to her cloved hooves and causing his cock to pop wetly out of her mouth. She staggered a little when her hooves touched the floor, but righted herself after a moment.

When she stood, it became plainly obvious how much lesser she seemed next to the male of her species, even with him seated, she was only just as tall as his shoulders. They hardly looked anything alike, save perhaps for the face, and even then, only in its general structure, with a rounded dark snout protruding from a furred and two-toned head. She was petite… no, petite was too light a word. Miniscule, in comparison to the wide, chiseled, and muscular stag that held her collar. Her upper arms were no thicker than even Dainn’s wrist, her body was graced with modestly proportioned breasts and thighs, but no obvious muscle stood out on her frame. Her hunched, submissive, and slender shoulders framed a downturned, rounded, and petite muzzle lighter in fur color than Dainn’s and gave the impression that she was even smaller than she was.

Dainn shoved her forward to display his slave, his hand still gripping her collar. “THIS is proof enough that women are inferior. They cook, clean, and please us because they can do NOTHING else. They are not strong warriors or hunters, they cannot complete more than simple tasks without clumsy fumbling, and they have no magic about them. They serve because that is their function, to bring pleasure and ease to a male. Is this not true bitch?” He addressed the slave.

Slowly, rhythmically, the slave nodded. She then ceased her motion promptly after a few bobs of her head.

Aspen’s eyes remained fixed on the female Caribou, then slid contemplatively over to Dainn.

“Your generalization based on your own species oppression of your females is indicative of your blindness to the outside world… my people may live in isolation, but even we seek first to understand outsiders… rather than assume that our way is the only and correct way…”

He drew himself up, staring with distain at the Caribou as he snarled and lowered his slave back down to the floor with a rough jerk of her collar.

“I do not consider myself better than my mate because she is not the same as I. I see her only serving a different niche…” He gripped the hand of the doe next to him and stood to her side in solidarity.

“My Queen, Poplar, is as much a leader as I, while I manage the matters of our forest: it’s creatures and health, she manages our city: it’s people and culture.”

He glowered at Dainn. “If I had a daughter, I would treat her no different than my son, with love and RESPECT. My people do not see weakness in the jackalope where we see strength in the Hydra, we see only everycreature performing its role.”

Dainn snorted dismissively. “Then you are blind to the evidence of your eyes, or ignorant. Perhaps this is in relation with the similarity in body you have to your cows…” Dainn mumbled thoughtfully, casting a judgmental eye up and down the forest King’s tall but slender form.

Master spoke up, interrupting Aspen’s biting retort. “That is where we are different Aspen! We do not treat women as an underclass. We do not relegate them to servitude based on their gender, or because anyone is ‘weak’. Far from it!”

Aspen’s face changed from a disgusted scowl to an exasperated one. “Yet there remain ‘slaves’ and ‘masters’… or do you claim that because you also have female ‘mistresses’ that you are somehow justified in equality? Or do you mean that the selection of which is what matters when the end is the same?”

Master adjusted Lemon Hearts in his lap, and she giggled a bit as his cock slid out just the slightest bit before slipping firmly back in. She moaned quietly in delight but bit her lip so as not to interrupt in that moment.

Master looked Aspen directly in the eyes, an expression of deadly seriousness on his face. “It matters a great deal, at least to me. For our method of ‘selection’ is choice… not the choice of the mistresses and masters, but of the slaves… the choice to willingly serve.”

Aspen stared at him. His eyes not wavering, his face stony.

“HA!? So then what I say is true!” Dainn crowed in triumph. “Even he admits that it is proper and natural! That females would even freely submit to servitude given the chance!”

Master chuckled, and wagged his finger admonishingly. “Not so fast Dainn, I said slaves, not females. There are many males that chose servitude as well.”

Dainn’s outraged silence was cut off by an unexpected bark of laughter from Aspen. He clapped his hand to his brow and groaned in a distinctly unkinglike manner. “This is insane… you are BOTH insane… why do I listen to this drivel? Why must the nation closest to my forest have descended into madness and debauchery?”

Celestia’s face wore a scowl now. “Aspen, we sent you and all the other delegates a cultural ambassador to prepare and inform you of our ways before you departed for this meeting. We understood that our culture had made a pivotal shift in only a few short years, and that we are… unique… in how we express ourselves.”

She smiled coyly at Master, who nodded and winked at her.

Celestia continued. “They would have explained the cultural evolution of how slavery came to be accepted…. We understood how shocking and unusual our social structure could be, but the other delegates seemed receptive and even enthusiastic…”

Aspen resisted rolled his eyes with a herculean effort. “Yes, the yellow one with the breasts nearly as large as yours and a libido so high as to exhaust an owl-bear alpha in rut on the way to my city and casually walk away from the encounter! I was at the very least appreciative that she chose to wear some SEMBLENCE of clothing! My son…”

He stopped, took a deep breath, and he really did roll his eyes then.

“She babbled at length about the evolution of your culture of ‘free love’ after the defeat of your most egregious enemies. She told us of how with the power of said love your crops grew like those graced by our pure water from the Heart of the Forest, how your bodies and powers to control the weather, the earth, and the magics of the world were increased in strength tenfold, and how your days grew long and frivolous…”

He seemed overcome all of a sudden… pinching the bridge of his slender muzzle. He sighed.

“You, and by extension your people, they are like prey without predators now I suppose… your magic enhances your people and your land to such a degree that the natural cycles of predation and the consumption of resources do not affect you… And you magically repress the wombs of your females until such time as they CHOOSE to produce children? This is perhaps as equally disturbing to me as your ‘slavery’.” He paused, looking down at the table to avoid eye contact with anyone.

“Please don’t worry Mr. King Aspen, we just want to have fun and be happy! With the magic of love, we’ve created a peaceful and safe land for everypony… That’s what everyone wants right? To be happy, safe, and fulfilled? Because me and everypony I know feels ALL of those things!”

Aspen looked over, the voice that had spoken had come from the bright yellow mare perched on Master’s lap… and cock… he sighed again. Her bright magenta eyes were filled with joy and sincerity, her hands resting on Master’s chest, and Master’s hands looped casually around her waist.

“I do not desire to impede on anyone’s happiness young mare…” He took a steadying breath. “I have… issue with your ideas about relations and breeding… they upset the natural order.”

Lemon Hearts looked as though she was going to say something, but she was cut off by a booming laugh.

“Then you acknowledge that their way is an abomination! You could help the Caribou, kin to you deer, and right the natural order of things! That is what you people are all about are they not?”

Aspen rounded on Dainn exasperatedly “I never said I endorsed your people’s way either!” He snapped, a sudden fierceness and anger entering his voice.

Dainn simply pursed his lips and raised a sardonic eyebrow. “As you wish then, you were given a chance to join us on our crusade, but I can see now that this Equestria’s corrupting influence weakens the resolve and blunts the wits to all around it as well.”

There was a silence that purveyed the room, and the royalty assembled just stared around at one another for an awkward minute while Aspen huffed angrily, his temper on the edge of boiling over.

Aspen’s bodyguard finally broke the silence. “King Aspen… perhaps we should head home now… we have long overstayed the timeframe we gave to young Prince Bramble; he will likely be worried.”

Aspen took a final look around the chamber, and his anger seemed to fade somewhat at the mention of his son. He nodded. “Indeed, you are right Blackthorn. I do not wish to worry him… come, let us leave then…

Celestia’s face fell a little. “We bid you farewell then Aspen… I hope that we can regain your trust in time…” She glared at Dainn. “And I hope that we can realize that we are on the same side… we do not wish to disrupt nature… that would be… others.”

Dainn shrugged dramatically, knocking his elbow forcefully into his slave as it passed. She whimpered, but he seemed to not notice. “If you plant fuckers would recognize that we are kin and help me overthrow these cunt-worshippers, then you would see that WE are establishing the correct balance of nature!” He called jeeringly.

King Aspen placed a guiding hand on his queen, and began to lead her away from King Dainn, over to the main door. His bodyguard, the darker-coated, wiry deer male called Blackthorn, followed.

As the deer king passed close to the chairs at the head of the table, he paused and stared the rulers of Equestria down with his emerald-green eyes. “I can only hope that what you say is true.” He looked back at Dainn, now holding his hand firmly on the head of his slave… a gagging, choking sound could be heard, even across the long table. “Our does are precious to us… we are a small tribe… despite my disagreements with your way of life… for our sake… I have no choice but to wish you victory.”

Master and Celestia nodded.

“I intend to do it by sundown…” Master said in a hushed voice and smirked to him.

The deer king didn’t say anything to that but followed his bodyguard and his wife.

Lemon Hearts, still perched on Master’s lap, looked away as Aspen swept past their chair. “Master. Do I need to go too? You still want your stuff?”

As Aspen finally departed out the doors, Master patted Lemon Hearts’s cutie mark, making her squishy and eponymously lemony behind jiggle a bit. “Yes, I do, come on Sweethearts, up.”

“Aww…” She said, her lips pursing poutily, but her lavender eyes brightened with a thought. “Can I give you a victory fuck after, Master?”

Master kissed her neck, causing her to giggle and squirm with the ticklish sensation of his neatly sculpted beard and moustache brushing just under her ear. “Well… you are cute…” He ruffled her mane. “Alright Sweethearts, it’s a deal… you can be part of my evening Enjoyment at 9:00pm sharp, ok?”

She nodded enthusiastically, stifling a squeal of delight.

“You run along to Mistress Rarity now…”

“Thank you master! I love you!” She nuzzled into his chest, embracing him in a quick hug.

“I love you too Sweethearts.”

With that, Master seized both of Lemon Hearts’s thighs. Each of his hands could halfway encircle the petite mare’s legs, his hands, wonderfully soft and smooth, covered her whole cutie mark as he shifted a little in his seat for leverage. Despite his firm grip it felt more to Lemon like a gentle squeeze, a loving embrace of his fingers. Then he started lifting her. Directly up.

There was a gentle sluuuuurp sound, and Lemon’s eyes crossed for a brief moment as the neurons in her brain rearranged themselves to take in the trip on which she was about to embark. With each inch she rose, more and more of Master’s cock slid out of her. With each inch, it induced a paralyzing shock of pleasure crackling and sizzling through her spine and brain like a white-hot fuse. It blurred everything outside her body as her nervous system struggled to keep up with the overload of pleasure trying to force itself through her synapses. A sluggish report from the nerves in her nether region made Lemon Hearts realize belatedly that her marehood had developed a mind of its own, it sucked and clung petulantly on to the shaft that had been buried in her for the past half-hour… Currently she was stuck at six or so inches of cock, and she was worried that Master might have to wait until her body could obey her mind.

She forced her numb and drooling tongue to function. “M-Mashter… I’m shorry… it’s stuc- AAHH~!“

Despite her instinctive grip, Master powered straight through her marepussy’s antics, his own grip dug into her thighs, making Lemon moan unintentionally, and she rose the final five inches… Her mind blanked temporarily as her cunt was pried off of the most desirable cock wielder in Equestria with a wet POP! She shuddered, an orgasm causing her whole body to spasm and her legs to twitch violently. She thought she was going to fall back and hit her head the table, but Master gripped her tighter, and he tilted her forward into his chest. As her head flopped onto it, Lemon noted that it was bare compared to a pony’s furred chest, and warm… and his scent, his aura which filled her mouth, and nostrils, and her very soul, was like a combination of a recent rainfall, a sweet lavender scent, and his own earthy, overpowering musk…

She breathed it in, her muzzle just below his collarbone, and let out a long, satisfied moan as everything became static, and her muscles tensed all together.

When Lemon hearts stopped cumming, she finally registered Master’s supple fingertips between her thighs, gently encouraging her until the very end. Aftershocks coursed through her twitching body as she continued to try to obey her Master. First one hand, then the other gripped into Master’s arms, then used her perch to push her torso up. Eventually she managed to push herself back onto her unsteady legs.

“I love you my slave…” Master kissed her forehead, steadying her with his hands around her waist.

“T-t-thank youuu… Mashtew! L-l-lowve you…” she managed to stammer and slur out. She tried to steady herself, her pussy dribbling slightly. She tried to wipe it down with her magic as she started to trot off, only to find that her legs weren’t working so well… she made it two tottering steps before tripping on her own hooves.

Master leapt from his seat to catch her, but King Thorax, who suddenly appeared from the ceiling, flew down from the vaulting and caught her deftly in his slender arms.

“Mmm… sorry Master… my brain went a little fuzzy there.” Mumbled Lemon from her new resting spot in the Changeling King’s arms. Another changeling landed gracefully from the ceiling, this one beefier and with a black chitin body contrasting his king’s green.

Master’s face broke out in relief. “Oh Sweethearts, I’m so sorry, I don’t know my own strength sometimes…” He glanced down at his dribbling shaft, still erect, nearly as thick as the petite mare’s wrist, peering out from around the long white silk loincloth that usually concealed it.

He continued unabashedly. “That was a timely save Thorax… thank you. Though I am curious as to why you hid up there?”

King Thorax straightened, Lemon Hearts dangling limply in his arms. “I, uh… kinda didn’t want to interrupt King Aspen, and we just decided to be flies on the wall to listen…”

“YOU decided to cower out Thorax…” His bodyguard huffed.

“You know I’ve never been good with confrontations Pharynx.”

Pharynx snorted. “Aspen values plants over people, I’m not surprised he wouldn’t care about the love that Master has brought to this land.”

“Now, now, be fair, he has his own people he’s worried about. I would be glad to discuss Aspen’s stance later, but right now I have somethings to discuss with King Dainn…” Master placated.

His eyes flicked to the Caribou, then back to Thorax.

“Can you hold onto her Thorax? I think that little Lemon Hearts is having a tough time right now. I just need a minute before I can properly chat with you.” He stroked Lemon Hearts’ cheek playfully.

“Of course Master. I’ll be glad to help” He shifted Lemon Hearts into a more secure position.

Master sat back down, satisfied that Thorax had it in hand. He smoothed down his loincloth to the side and used a handkerchief that Celestia handed him to gingerly clean off his member. Though he quickly popped it up to his mouth to suck the pussy juice coating off the top quarter of it first, then cleaned his hands.

He was about to address Thorax when there was an audible gagging sound from the opposite end of the table.

“I don’t know what’s worse, you deigning to give your slave the slightest bit of concern for her state after you used her, or stooping so low as to clean your own cock when your bitch-queen is right there.”

Master straightened, then craned his neck and looked around the chamber in an exaggerated manner. His gaze traced up and down the columns of the meeting hall, over the various beautiful stained-glass windows, and even under the table.

After another moment of searching he returned his gaze to Dainn. “Hmm… you know, I took a look around. In addition to disagreeing with every word that seems to come out of your mouth, I couldn’t find a single creature who asked your opinion. Funny that.”

Dainn fumed, though he immediately became distracted as this seemed to be the moment when he climaxed into his own slave, judging by her choking sounds growing wetter and more slobbery.

Celestia kept her eyes locked on the poor Caribou woman… waiting for the second when it looked like Dainn thought to ignore entirely his slave’s need for oxygen for his pleasure. Celestia would have wrenched her away and vaporized Dainn earlier, but she now knew that Master had a plan to avert total war, and ruining the current ‘diplomatic’ relationship with Dainn now would be unhelpful to say the least. She had precious else to do, as the misogynist tyrant would dismiss all of her contributions. But she could do this, to ensure the safety of even one of Dainn’s oppressed slaves. Master looked on too, worried, also concerned for her safety, but unable to demand anything of Dainn at that time. Master turned away reluctantly to resume his conversation with Thorax.

“Thank you for your assistance Thorax… I take it you wanted to speak to me or Mistress-Goddess Celestia? How may we help you?”

Thorax nodded, his iridescent and glassy plum-colored eyes somehow conveying his determination and confidence before he even spoke. “I wanted to voice the conviction of myself and my bodyguard that the Changelings are already allies and friends to the Empire. And we would be honored to join you in war should it come to that.”

Master glanced behind Thorax to see Pharynx standing at attention behind him, his broad chitinous chest puffed out, his jaw set, and his chin held high in determination. Master leaned back in his chair to address Thorax.

“The loyalty of yourself, your bodyguard, and your hive are noted and appreciated Thorax… I would ask you to mobilize your hive to be ready to render cleanup and capture assistance… something I would rank the changeling army excellent at.”

Thorax nodded again. “Thank you, my lord, we will do our best!”

“All I can ask of you. I beg you leave us now.”

Thorax nodded again, and only just seemed to remember the vibrant yellow slave leaning against his slender and smooth armored chest…

“Uhhh… Master… what shall I do with…?”

“Ah, could you just give her to the guards outside, they will take her to the slave quarters, and Miss Saddles will handle her.”

Thorax nodded, and bundled Lemon Hearts into his arms, the pony herself having fallen fast asleep. Pharynx followed him a few paces behind, his menacing lavender eyes sweeping the hall repeatedly, and his hand gripping his chitin sword the whole way out the door.

“I presume you mean punishment?” Came a gruff and entirely unpleasant voice from a across the hall.

Master looked back up at him and scowled. “Excuse me?”

“Punishment: the cunt meat failed to carry out your orders, and this… Sass- whatever will carry out her punishment?” He seemed to be trying to make casual conversation.

Master stared exasperatedly at him. “You know… you’re almost right… if it was the exact OPPOSITE of that.”

He stood, his cock now properly stowed behind his loincloth, visible only as an innocuous fold in the garment that never seemed to smooth flat. He put his hands behind his back.

“Sassy Saddles is my slave-mistress… she manages my other slaves.” He explained matter-of-factly. “She is not only a beautiful and competent slave in her own right but has proven to care for the wellbeing of everypony in her purview. Her attention to detail makes her an impeccable manager in whatever task I set her. By the by, the inestimable Miss Saddles also happens to manage a fantastic and critically vaunted kitchen in the slave quarters. She will probably be getting the poor girl a meal, since I didn’t don’t think she had eaten since this morning and perform the aftercare that I cannot at this moment. ”

He noted the confused and disgusted look on Dainn’s face.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, foreign language being what it is…”

"Jeg forstår dit primitiv, hestetunget sprog helt fint, det er dig som berøver mit!" Dainn spat in his own tongue.

Master smirked and replied "Men stadig, selvom du bære dig ad fint, seer det ikke ud til at vi snakker det helt samme sprog…"

Dainn’s Jaw dropped open, his grip slackening on the hair of the slave in his lap for just a moment.

Master smirked. “Anyway, aftercare is when I usually eat out…”

“I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS YOU HAIRLESS CUCK OF A BITCH! NOW CAN WE GET TO DISCUSSING YOUR SURRENDER, OR DO YOU DESIRE MY ARMY TO STRIKE NOW?” He panted and huffed, seeming to be closing in on his wit’s end.

Master raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm, well, grain of salt and all that. But yes, to business. Just another moment while I finalize my affairs, and we can address one another without interruption.”

All other creatures had left now, and the hall had fallen silent but for their voices. Dainn scowled across the table.

“Very well, but be quick, I tire of the forestalling of your destruction!” Dainn slumped in his seat to wait. His slave seemed to be cleaning up after his orgasm, lapping at his slackening 8-inch cock.

Master nodded curtly and turned to Celestia.

“Would you be able to spare your pleasure slave my dear? I do think the man is serious about the whole war thing, and I want to look my best!”

Celestia smiled warmly and nodded. “Of course My Lord! Just a moment.”

Celestia stared down into her cleavage, using her magic to part her mighty mammaries and dress enough that she could see down to her equally soft and curvaceous thighs. “Raven, can you have Mistress Rarity and Captain Fizzlepop prepare Master and Luna’s attire and weapons for war? Lemon Hearts has become indisposed…”

From DEEP within the pillowy thighs of the princess, an off-white horn popped up, followed by a mess of dark brown hair. A pony’s head followed soon after. Once she had popped her muzzle out from between her Goddess’s thighs, she spoke in an even and measured tone despite the thick, slippery liquid dribbling from her muzzle.

“Yesh goddessh...” Raven Inkwell, personal assistant slave to Princess Celestia, licked her sopping wet lips and swallowed several petite gulps of Celestia’s cum before speaking again. “Would you like me to bring Master’s unform to him?”

Celestia turned to Master inquisitively.

“Yes Raven, I would have it brought to the cloud arena... but I beg you inform Mistress Rarity to have one of her boy-toys to deliver it. Much as I’d love to see her, I don’t trust our guest around ladies such as herself. She can help with Luna’s dressing instead.”

Raven nodded, causing her damp and disheveled hair to sway, and extracted herself gingerly from her Mistress’s thighs. Celestia parted them, but this gesture offered only slightly less resistance as Raven backed out, still having to push aside cushiony thighs nearly twice as thick as her whole body. Once she was out, she squeezed some of the marecum out of her bangs, licked her fingers meticulously clean, then tugged the hair band off of her wrist to put up a stately hair bun.

After she had made herself as presentable as possible, cum still spattered and dribbling down her perky C-cup breasts, she trotted smartly off and shut the door behind her, Master took a deep breath to steady himself.

He threw his arms wide, throwing aside his royal blue half-cape and stood upright. Master was around 6’ 3”, with a fit and toned, but not terribly muscular build. He wore a long white loincloth that swept just below his knees, fastened about his waist by a gold studded leather belt with a simple square gold buckle. In addition, on his left shoulder sat a rounded, gold, segmented spaulder shoulder pad that held his cape, looking not unlike the shell of a large, golden beetle clinging to his shoulder with a few leather straps. On his feet and arms he wore a few leather straps that ended in soft-soled sandals on his feet and smooth leather bracers on his forearms. Finally, atop his head was a Golden crown not unlike Celestia’s, though squatter, with a shining palm-sized sapphire as its centerpiece and accented by studded turquoise stone decorations.

His face had stormy grey eyes framed on either side by shoulder length wavy dirty blonde hair, with a sharp and shapely goatee accentuating a mouth whose lips fluctuated between tender smiles and mischievous grins on a regular basis. Though now, it was flattened in an uncharacteristic passionless grimace.

He placed his hands on the table. “So, let’s cut the chase… what are your demands? I’ve played a wargame or two, and fought in my first real wars not too long ago with Tirek and Chrysalis. He desired Equestria’s magic, she desired the love we cultured. You already made yourself very clear you abhorre our way of life… How about it?”

Dainn stood as well. His slave slid out of the way of his muscular thighs and onto her knees next to him, coughing a little and trying not to spill the cum in her mouth. Dainn’s cock flopped down in front of his rough, furred trousers, and he thrust out his massive, armored chest proudly. “We seek nothing less than the DESTRUCTION of this… Equestria!” He spat on the table to illustrate his disgust with the name. “For too long, the males of Equestria have been subservient to the bitches that deserve only to be sucking their cocks-“

“Do get to the point Dainn, we don’t have all day.” Celestia sneered sardonically, folding her arms atop her exercise ball-sized breasts and scowling down the hall at him.

Dainn grimaced and continued petulantly, thrusting his finger toward Master. “You have taken the correct first step in writing these WRONGS, one called ‘Master’.” He gestured his hand forward, as if pointing out a demonstration of a point in his favor. “Subjugating the mares of this land to worship your cock. But you have still much to rectify. For there are still many atrocities committed by your people… for example, from what I heard just now: your ‘Rarity’, a female, owning…”

“And so you think you can do better? Is that it?” Master cut in abruptly.

Dainn straightened and grinned maliciously. “By miles, hundreds of miles… if I were to have this land, I would have the powerbase to show the WORLD the proper and correct way of doing things. Your males are strong, and would make fine warriors, and if we could subjugate the so-called ‘Goddesses’ of Equestria, we would surely show the inferiority of females to those who do not realize it yet!”

There was a silence… Dainn grinned over the length of the table, his eyes and pose confident.

Master stared back at him… glanced down and to Dainn’s side at the pathetic broken woman kneeling next to him, then back up to his face. “Very well… you may HAVE Equestria”

Celestia’s eyes went wide, but after seeming to stare down the back of Master’s head for a moment, she relaxed. She trusted he had this in hand… and she had sensed his mind... ‘but she had trusted him first!’ She thought reassuringly to herself.

King Dainn prattled on as if he didn’t hear him at first “Of course, if you do not surrender, I will…” Master’s words caught up with his brain and he stopped, dumbfounded. “Wah- yo- You are giving up?”

Master waved a casually dismissive hand. “Oh no, not quite. You may have Equestria as I said. My soldiers will lay down their arms when I command them, and my citizens will submit to their new masters if they see their leaders doing the same…”

“GET TO THE POINT!”

“If you can best my three challenges… I will grant this boon. Would you say that is fair my love?” He turned back to Celestia.

“Her opinion doesn’t count! I will accept and succeed in your challenges only after I hear of them!”

Celestia gave a reassuring nod, and smirked at Master. “My Lord, were you THAT bored with the Convocation? I could have spiced things up myself if you had asked.”

Master trotted to her side and leaned over her enormous breasts to plant a kiss on her forehead, no mean feat, as she still was a formidable height, even sitting down. “No not at all, I do want to continue the talks, even though they are a bit tedious. I was simply trying to give him a fair chance!” He spoke quietly to her.

They both chuckled a little at that.

“Damn you and your sentimental idiocy, what are the challenges!?” Dainn slammed his hands on the table now, leaning forward eagerly.

Master turned away from Celestia, annoyed. “Well, fine, if you can’t be patient about it…”

Master matched Dainn’s pose. “Alright. Your three tasks follow thus:”

He dramatically thrust his hand forward, one finger raised. “First, your finest warrior, or the one most adept in sex, must outlast my lowliest slave in sexual prowess, using the rules we developed and utilize in our Equestria Games.”

Dainn scoffed and gestured to his bodyguard. “My lieutenant, Ivangir, will do this… Though if you desired a Caribou demonstrating the proper method of putting cocksleeves in their rightful place, you need only have surrender-“

“Second.” Master talked pointedly over him and crooked up another finger. “Your finest squad of warriors shall face off against my own most adept champion. She will of course be barehanded as to make it an even fight…”

Dainn burst out laughing, doubling over so much that his mighty, proud antlers clacked briefly against the smooth granite table. “ONE of my warriors could put down a dozen bleating, inferior-“

“AND FINALLY” Master had to shout over him. After the silence had stood for a few seconds, he spoke again. “You yourself, and as many soldiers as you desire, may face off against one of the Leaders of this land… also of your choice.”

He paused, and brought himself to parade rest again, his hands behind his back. “If we should falter in any one of these challenges, Equestria is yours. Fail in all three, and I shall submit myself, my harem, and my wives as your personal slaves.”

Dainn’s eyes went wide, trying to control the unabashed smugness and glee that had crossed his face.

“And should, perish the thought, you have any possibility of WINNING?”

Master nodded. “Should we prove our worth in all three, we would have your armies retreat from this continent. We would supply your journey, but you may no longer land on Equestrian soil, from Califoalnia to Manehatten, from the Crystal Empire to Appaloosa.”

He shot Dainn a penetrating glare, his face twisted in distain and determination.

“There are other races you may consider conquering... but you would run very quickly into the reality that Equestria offers protection and allies to all that seek them, and any nation within our purview would not hesitate to call on us for our aid. Then you would see us in true form, battling with all our might against oppression and evil.”

A long pause followed. Dainn, for once, didn’t have a response.

Master sat back down and closed his eyes. “The contest would begin once you have brought your delegation of champions to the Equestria Games stadium in the south side of the city. By then I will have prepared the stadium, and my own champions. You know, you will have to use the Train... unless you have airships?”

Dainn scowled “You underestimate me, ape. Our armies would not simply scale the mountain face, yes we brought airships! Mighty vessels of war, enough to- “

Master rolled his eyes and spoke forcefully over him. “Alright, that settled, I will have my guards escort you out, you can summon who you wish, and you may dock your ONE airship at the port on the north side of the city. Any more than that and I will not hesitate to destroy them.”

Dainn bowed mockingly. “Of course your majesty…”

He unhooked the leather leash on his belt and tugged on it forcefully “Come, meat, get up!” He growled. The slave stood and followed meekly behind him; her head lowered so as not to make eye contact with anyone.

As Dainn strutted past the table and came level with the two rulers, he stopped, sneered at Master, then reached out a hand.

Celestia jerked in her seat as a rough, calloused hand seized a handful of her breast flesh. She had been entranced at the plight of the caribou woman, watching her gait closely in case she stumbled and taking in her body and mind critically. Now she stared right into the icy blue eyes of the caribou king.

She looked pointedly down at the hand groping her boob, then back up at its owner. “And what is it you think you’re doing Dainn?” She asked calmly.

He kneaded the mass of boob in his hand, marveling at how much more there was left un-groped. “Sampling my prize… you would make an excellent breeding sow.” He released his grip and chuckled as he made his way to the doors. “I shall take great pleasure in seeing you submit yourself willingly to my harem.” With that, he marched cheerfully towards the double doors.

Master glared daggers at his back, but just leaned in to speak with his wife and co-ruler. “Shall we tell Luna about that little stunt?” He said conversationally.

Celestia looked behind her to see the poor wretch that followed after Dainn hurry through the closing doors after her master. She grimaced. “No.”

She turned back to face Master, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. “If we informed her, she would kill that bastard where he stands… I want him to suffer.” She grinned maliciously.

Master nodded, a hard look in his eyes, but the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his anger. “Suffer he shall…”

Immortal Equestria: A Broken Moon

by Relevance

Prologue: Orgy at the Black Door

Chapter 1: The Declaration of the Caribou