Virginal Vassal
Celestia yawned, stretching her long, slender arms over her head, while the sun crested over the horizon. Smacking her lips, she lazily rolled from her bed and strolled to her balcony. Normally, she’d make fetching some tea and a breakfast pastry a priority, although there had been something far more delectable which had caught her eye in the last few days. Her praetorians had recently inducted a handful of squires - one of whom was positively adorable.
His name, according to the master at arms, was Sam. Short, slender, and extraordinarily timid, she wondered if he had the mettle to become a full fledged guard, yet that was a paltry concern. She’d ensure he found a place for the royal staff, if only for her own amusement, even if he wasn’t cut out for sentry duty. He was, in a very real sense, a delicate fruit which had just become ripe, and her mouth watered at the thought of him.
In ages past, Celestia would have laughed off the notion of paying such a young stallion any mind, but things had changed over the millennia. Older stallions were still entertaining and noble, what with their chiseled physiques and steadfast mindsets, although she’d discovered that the younger ones were far more entertaining. The inexperience of those who’d just reached adulthood, how coy they were, and the way she could utterly dominate them conjured a predatory lust within her like none other.
As one of the perilously few alicorns in all of Equestria, she stood a full head and shoulders over even the largest fully grown pony - as such, she utterly dwarfed the teenagers. For all but the tallest youth, her breasts sat just above eye level. Honestly, she’d never given it much mind, until she noticed how a select few looked at her. The way their inquisitive eyes wandered over her titanic, curvaceous frame, while their colthoods tented their trousers, stirred a fire within her loins.
Squires were only chosen every few years, so having the rookies around was a rare treat. Candidates were typically selected from the peasantry, after reaching the age of eighteen, and molded into soldiery through rigorous training and study. Having only just begun work with the sentries, there was one which she found downright mouthwatering. Compared to her nigh-agelessness, they were mere colts.
Sam was of a particular interest - not only because getting new groups of squires was exceptionally rare, but because she’d noticed the way he snuck glances at her. His piercing, arctic blue gaze would slip to her pillowy rear or generous bust, when he thought she wouldn’t notice. She couldn’t be certain how long she’d commanded his attention, although she’d quickly taken to intentionally working him up.
It was a simple affair, in all honesty; loosening her bodice a touch more than usual, to allow him a superb view of her mountainous cleavage, or parting her legs to reveal the supple flesh of her inner thighs. His reactions were delightful, from the way his snow white cheeks reddened to the way he’d fidget uncomfortably - doubtlessly trying in vain to conceal an erection. From what she could tell, given how the fabric of his trousers conformed to his equipment, he was rather well endowed for a pony of his age.
A cool breeze shook Celestia from her reverie, as she stepped into the chill morning air. Surveying the courtyard below, she hoped she hadn’t missed the changing of the guard. Their shifts ended and began just after to sunup or sundown, so she’d adjusted her schedule accordingly. As expected, she spied the group of soldiers and their attendees by the main gate. Scanning their ranks, she found just whom she was looking for.
Rushing back inside, she hurriedly donned a simple robe and slippers. Despite it being rather uncouth to present herself in such a fashion, she heedlessly made ready. Wandering into town while wearing such casual attire would be out of the question, but the hour was early and the courtyard was only occupied by her guards. She had no doubt her state of dress would evoke little response - at least, not from the more seasoned sentries.
Igniting her horn, Celestia teleported herself to the earth beneath her balcony. In a clever bit of forethought, she was able to materialize behind a particularly large shrub, concealing her from view. Straightening her housecoat and mane, lest she look completely unkempt, she took a breath. Making a sudden appearance, while dressed so casually, could be mitigated if she acted accordingly. Boldly striding forth, she made a beeline for the assembling soldiery.
No sooner had the first sentry spotted her, snapping to a crisp salute, than the others followed suit. Nearly a dozen of the stallions and mares stood rigid, slamming a clenched fist to their cuirasses, while the handful of the squires sloppily rushed to stand by the armored guards. Smiling to herself, the demigoddess waved cheerfully.
“Snap to, cadets!” Glimmering Shield barked, casting his baleful gaze at the young attendants. Turning his attention to the approaching alicorn, he respectfully dipped his head. “My Princess, I trust you fare well this morning?”
“Indeed, Captain. Forgive my unforeseen visit, I noticed the assembly and saw fit to greet you all this fine day,” Celestia hummed, looking to each of the ponies in turn. While the sentinels all seemed to be cut from stone, eyes straight and bedecked in their armor, the squires anxiously shot curious or apprehensive glances in her direction.
“Ma’am, there’s no need to excuse yourself - if anything, I should apologize for the shabby state of this lot,” Shield grumbled, leering at the handful of trainees.
“Captain, come now, I’m sure they’re just out of sorts. As you just noted, ‘twas I who saw fit to pay you all a visit out of the blue,” the Princess chuckled, casually sauntering over to the youth.
Making a concerted effort to add a bit of extra swing to her hips, Celestia strutted towards Sam. The colt held his hands before himself, nervously interlacing his fingers as she approached. With his eyes glued to the ground, she only stopped when she was standing directly before him.
“And what is your name, fare squire?” she demurely asked, innocently demanding his attention. Though she already knew the answer to her question, it would be impossible for him to realize that small fact, since the two had never directly spoken.
“S...Sam,” he mumbled, stubbornly keeping his gaze averted.
“Cadet! You will address the Princess properly!” the captain bellowed, making the young stallion flinch.
“That’s quite enough, Shield, I’m sure your shouting will do little to help him,” Celestia calmly rebuked, momentarily glaring over at the officer. Peering down at the colt, she leaned in and sweetly caressed his cheek.
Her touch caused him to gaze up at her. Stooped as she was, bringing her face to his, she took care that he had an impeccable view of her bountiful cleavage. He swallowed hard, as his eyes wandered over her countenance, down her neck, and towards her chest. Without a brassiere, her bosoms hung heavily beneath her robe, but that was only one benefit of going sans-undergarments.
“Tell me, Sam, has your stay in Canterlot been a pleasant one? Have you toured the palace?” she inquired, noting what held his attention. Carefully, ensuring nobody else could see, she shifted one hand ever so slightly. The fabric over her breasts drooped, allowing him a glimpse of one very erect nipple.
The colt stood mute, though her act didn’t go without a reaction. His cheeks turned a bright crimson, his hands drifted to his groin, and his pupils dilated. It was the perfect wordless response, yet she had little doubt that his silence would…
“Cadet!” Shield growled, storming over towards them.
Straightening, pleased that things were unfolding as she’d planned, Celestia turned towards the irate captain. Placidly holding up a hand, she halted his advance without saying a thing. “Considering the early hour and my abrupt appearance, I’m sure the fine squire here is simply out of sorts,” she coolly stated. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked the colt in the eye. “I believe I’ll handle this myself, albeit in a slightly more refined fashion. Come,” she solemnly instructed, walking towards the nearest entryway to the castle proper.
Passing the captain, seeing the angry look he was giving the squire, it only took a handful of seconds to hear the juvenile stallion rushing after her. As she trotted away, with Sam following closely behind, a triumphant smirk split her features. The first phase of her hastily laid plan had played out flawlessly, so she moved to the next stage of her scheme.
She did, in fact, give him a rudimentary tour of the palace, including a brief stop in the kitchen for a freshly baked pastry and a mug of tea for each of them. Though Sam didn’t say much throughout his wandering journey, he slowly warmed to her and asked the odd question or two. Through the various galleries and ballrooms, into the great hall and armory, their stroll lasted for the better part of an hour; by the end of it, her pint-sized guest had seen nearly every room of the castle - nearly…
Having scaled the largest turret of the palace, the strange pair came to rest before an ornately engraved and filigreed door. “And this,” Celestia began, patting the archway, “is my bedchamber.”
Bearing a relaxed yet slightly confused expression, Sam peered from her to the entryway. Perhaps unsure of himself, or of what to say, he simply issued an innocent smile and nod. The Princess forced a perplexed look, raising an eyebrow as she stared down upon him. “Are you not curious about what treasures a Princess’ private quarters hold?”
“Oh I...I am, my Princess, but it’s hardly the place of a lowly peasant squire to - “ he cut himself off, as she dismissively waved a hand in his direction.
“Surely, if it is your hope to serve as one of my praetorians, you will acquaint yourself with every nook and cranny of the keep - yes?” she hummed, squatting down before him. Utterly alone in the short corridor, away from prying eyes, her robe came to rest on either side of her legs.
Celestia swore, Sam’s eyes grew as big as saucers, when he eventually viewed what rested between her thighs. Though it was rare that anyone other than herself was given a glimpse of her loins, she kept herself shaved for just such special occasions. Her alabaster fur thinned over her plump lower lips, allowing the rosy flesh of her bare hide to be seen. She tried not to tip her hand, giving no obvious clue that she was exposing herself, but it was difficult.
Utterly fixated on her marehood, the colt’s hands hung limply to his sides. It was funny, really, and more than a little arousing. The lad almost seemed to be in shock - well, almost. Like a beast roused from its slumber, something within his trousers stirred. Silently, the Princess watched his face, occasionally peeking to his rapidly tenting slacks. After a scant few seconds passed, having let him get a good, long look at her nethers, she stood.
“Please, fare squire, I bid thee enter,” she humbly stated, letting herself inside.
Lingering by the entrance, waiting for the colt to wander deeper into her chamber, Celestia suppressed a shiver. She felt not unlike some great spider, watching a succulent morsel naively stumbling into her web. As he strayed towards the center of the room, wondrously drinking in the details of her quarters, she closed and surreptitiously locked the door behind herself.
“Feel free to look around,” she remarked, sweeping an arm and gesturing towards her things. An opulent king-sized bed rested to one side of the room, easily the largest furnishing she possessed, although a dresser, vanity, desk, and reading chair also occupied the area. Save for the exit, the only other doorways led to a cavernous bathroom, an expansive wardrobe, and her balcony.
Prancing over to her bed, she eased herself onto the mattress and reclined on one arm. Content to observe the young stallion for a moment, she thought on how to make her next move. “So,” she began, crossing her legs, “what do you think of your Princess’ boudoir?”
“It’s amazing,” Sam breathed, lazily spinning in place, “easily the biggest bedroom I’ve ever seen; shucks, it’s almost as big as my family’s house!”
“Oh?” she chirped, feigning surprise. It came as no shock that her abode was more spacious than what her guest was used to, yet she knew little of the lad’s past. “Pray tell, do you hale from Canterlot?”
“No, Ma’am - I...I mean, Princess. I’m from a little town called Ponyville; it’s to the south west of here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t heard of it. Nothing really happens down there, save for the occasional bug bear or twittermite swarm showing up,” he explained, giving a small shrug.
Fighting the urge to grin, as his subtly impertinent comment drifted to her ears, she stared blankly at him. “I am familiar with Ponyville, although it wounds me to think you’d assume I wasn’t. I know of every village within my domain, from the bustling metropolis of Las Pegasus to the small hamlet of Hope Hollow,” she sighed, dejectedly looking to the carpeted floor.
“P...P...Princess, forgive me!” Sam stammered, falling to his knees with a dull Thump. “I wouldn’t...I mean, I never intended…” he sputtered, covering his face with his palms.
“It’s quite alright - in fact, ‘tis I who should feel regret,” she whispered, causing him to peer up at her. Once his eyes were upon her, she continued, “Here I am, in the lap of luxury, while a great many of my people toil for the kingdom.”
“My Princess, please, you don’t need to feel guilty at all!” Sam asserted, shaking his head. “You’ve protected the empire for ages, virtually everyone has a roof over their head, and next to nobody goes without food! It’s just - “
“Still,” she interrupted, meeting his eyes, “it’s not everyone.”
“But you do what you can! Even without Luna, I couldn’t imagine anyone doing a better job than you!” he insisted, a steely resolve flashing in his eyes.
Uncrossing her legs, giving him yet another fleeting peek at her sex, she pushed herself up. “Regardless, I won’t rest easy until everyone, every last soul in my empire, is tended to,” she firmly stated, walking over to him. As she came before him, she amiably extended an arm downward. Gently taking her hand, she helped pull him to his feet.
The physical contact with the colt, the first time he’d actually touched her, signaled a change - one which left her at a crossroads. As things stood, she had a myriad of options to choose from, yet two shone through above the others. She could continue to toy with him, getting him worked up with taunting glimpses and honeyed words, or she could go for the throat and end things in a profoundly provocative manner. As soon as he gazed up at her, innocently smiling in the face of her magnanimity, her heart went aflutter and answered the question for her.
“If you would be so kind as to wait right here, I’ll just be back in just a moment,” she nonchalantly requested, sweetly patting his shoulder. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to ask her where she was going, but he kept quiet and nodded. Strolling towards her closet, as casually as possible, she saw herself in and closed the door behind herself.
With but the slightest expenditure of her magic, Celestia lit the relatively small area. Arrayed before her were any number of garments and accessories, ranging from overly-ornate formal dresses to several rather scandalous pieces of attire. Walking past the various hangers, rubbing her chin, it was a hard decision to settle on any one over the others. As she approached the back of the room, she paused before a large standing mirror.
There she stood, her robe having fallen open, peering at her nearly nude reflection. She was quite proud of her body, from her ample bosoms to her rather gracious tush, so her selection should do little more than to accentuate her sensual features. Stepping into a pair of golden heels, further emphasizing her shapely rump, a thought struck her. Sometimes in life, the simplest solutions were the best.
Snatching and quickly donning an elaborate necklace, which came to rest over her back and breasts, she straightened her robe. After giving herself a last once-over, she headed back to the exit. Reaching for the knob, she paused; there was one more thing which may serve her well. Plucking a small crown from a nearby shelf, a gift she’d been given in her youth, she took a measured breath. Her plot would quickly come to a head, so she just had to compose herself for a bit longer.
“Many thanks for your patience,” Celestia began, reentering her chamber. “Forgive the brief departure, but your words reminded me of something,” she added, stopping a mere arm’s length from the lad. Sam froze, as she drew nearer. Keeping her hands behind her back, taking care to hide the bejeweled circlet, she knelt. “It is I who serve you, my people, so I offer you this.”
Quietly extending her arm, she presented the crown. Remaining bowed meant she missed his reaction, although it was a carefully crafted part of the act. From her vantage, all she could see was him taking a step back, likely taken aback by her actions, but his gasp was rather telling.
“P...Princess, I...I could never -” his protest was cut short, as she raised her head.
“I beseech you, please, if only for a day, you may feel like a King,” she pleaded, adding the slightest quiver to her voice.
He wouldn’t - no, couldn’t refuse a plea of that caliber. Coming from the Princess of all Equestria, to deny her would be the pinnacle of heresy. Slowly, with trembling hands, he reached out and gingerly accepted her gift. She paused, expectantly waiting for him to place the circlet on his head, yet he didn’t move.
“Won’t you try it on?” she pressed, her voice no louder than a whisper.
“Yes! Y...yes of course!” Sam apprehensively nodded, swiftly donning the crown.
Celestia beamed up at him, inordinately pleased that he’d acquiesced. “I’m so happy that it fits you!” she approvingly chuckled, lowering her head once again and remaining on one knee. There was but one lynch-pin left, one moment upon which hinged the remainder of her designs for the colt, and she knew it was coming.
“Please,” he urged, stepping back and waving her up, “stand.”
Looking to the floor, there was no way he could see the wolfish grin which crept across her face. Furtively undoing the knot of her waistband, she stood. As she slowly got to her feet, her garment fell from her frame and laid her body bare. Maintaining a passive expression, playing off the fact that she stood naked before the tender youth, she moved one arm beneath her colossal rack and studied him closely.
Stunned, with his mouth agape, Sam’s eyes wandered over her flesh. Though his face was quite telling, awestruck beyond measure, his groin held an equally amusing reaction. His erection had returned, angrily railing against the cloth of his pants. Placing her free hand on her waist, she cocked one hip and paraded herself to the bed. The iron was hot, it was time to strike the final blow.
“To be sure, the sight of a mere Princess wouldn’t fluster a King - would it?” she bashfully inquired, perching on the mattress’ edge.
His jaw flapped for a moment, unwilling or unable to speak, but he vehemently shook his head. The sight of her likely left him breathless, so she saw no reason to delay the inevitable. Reassuming her reclined position, she leveled a finger at her guest. “Speaking of royalty, that’s quite the unseemly outfit for a noble like yourself; take it off,” she purred, affixing him with her heavily lidded eyes.
She gave him a minute, permitting him time to process her request, before shaking her head in a show of simulated disappointment. Overwhelmed though he was, her determination to bend the colt’s will was unshaken. “Mmmmm,” she thoughtfully hummed, cocking her head to the side, “I could always come and lend you a hand, if it’s truly needed.”
As she went to move, flexing her muscles to get up, he frantically waved a hand at her. “No. N...no, I can d...do it,” he sputtered, shakily reaching for the buttons on his tunic.
“Good colt,” Celestia exhaled, resigning herself to watch the forthcoming show.
The young stallion was clumsy and his performance was woefully bumbling, but that was part of the appeal. It wasn’t every day that she was privy to a stripping colt, so she had every intention of relishing every little detail. As his shirt fell to the floor, revealing his slender torso and delectably lean chest, her impulses got the better of her. Flicking her pointer downward, she eased her legs apart.
“Now the pants,” she murmured, giving him an unabashed view of her moistening loins.
Exhibiting her marehood served a dual purpose; not only did she want him at full mast, before his equipment was freed, but she thought it only fair. Regardless of their differences in authority and age, he had every right to see how worked up she was getting because of him - after all, it was his fault she was in such an indecent state. As he undid his belt and pulled the trousers down his creamy thighs, she finally got her first good look at what he’d been hiding.
Practically springing out over the waistband of his slacks, his colthood stood proudly. She began to salivate, as she appraised his virgin endowments. In contrast to his lightly colored fur, Sam’s length had a salmon hue. Beneath his turgid rod, resting against his thighs, sat a pair of lusciously plump and weighty nuts. As appealing as the aesthetics were, they took a distant second place to one other factor - that lad was obscenely well hung.
She’d met stallions twice Sam’s age who would have been put to shame by the little stud’s equipment. His cock had to be thicker as his wrist and was nearly as long as his forearm. It was hard to wrap her head around - the fact that some simple squire would be gifted with such a divine package. Drawn by its siren’s call, intent to get a closer look, she got to her feet.
Too spellbound to move, Sam didn’t move a muscle - well, not consciously. His length throbbed slightly, bobbing in the cool air, as his stay glued on the nearing alicorn. The room stood silent, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, as the Princess closed on the lad. Coming to rest before him, she squatted down to her haunches.
“Beautiful,” she reverently breathed, her snout hovering mere inches from his rigid shaft. Inhaling through her nose, tickling her sinuses with the delicate musk of his unclaimed flesh, a tingle ran down her spine. It was better than she could have dreamt of, virtually demanding she take action. Reaching out, her fingers glided up his knee, over his thigh, and eventually came to rest on his hip.
Situated as she was, bawdily squatting like some common harlot, his chin rested nearly at eye level. Peeking up to his face, savoring the lost and agog look plastered upon him, her head crept downward. Locking eyes with him, her lips parted, her tongue snaked forth, and she licked the swollen, blunted tip of his length.
His stifled whimper of delight was a sweet symphony to her ears. Pressing onward, working his colthood into her maw, she splayed her legs. Engorged and practically aching, leaking a trail of nectar down the twin globes of her rump, her slavering sex would not be ignored. As she pulled him to herself with one hand, she reached for her groin.
Humming around his tool, with the flavor of unwashed flesh playing over her taste buds, she kneaded her snatch. Though the temptation to finger herself was strong, her willpower was far stronger. The only thing that would be making its way into her regal nethers that day would be her guest, so she had little desire to detract from the sublime snugness of her loins.
Bobbing her head and massaging her clit, her fingers quickly grew slick. Hungrily drooling to the floor, her snatch pined to be filled. Mopping his prick with her lips, periodically torquing her head from side to side, the tip tickled her uvula. Enjoying herself, heedless of how much time had passed, she abruptly ceased her ministrations.
The salty, cloying, and immeasurably decadent tang of his pre-cum coated her tongue, all but forcing herself to progress. Retracting her head, licking her pouting lips clean of the savory and slippery fluid, she cradled his behind, stood, and pulled him to her bosom. The frivolous subtleties were at an end, it was time for the real entertainment to begin.
Passing by the bed, snatching up a particularly long pillow from atop the sheets, Celestia strode to her table. They’d make it onto the bed, eventually, although she wanted to save that for after he’d been broken in a bit. Casting the cushion onto the desk, causing papers to glide to the floor, she hastily deposited her precious cargo.
Lifting his head, hanging just over the edge of the piece of furniture, Sam looked to his left. His arm had inadvertently knocked over a small bottle, sending dozens of small pills skittering about the polished wooden surface. “W...what are those?” he asked, the small diversion momentarily robbing the Princess of her attention.
“Fertility pills,” Celestia giggled, towering above him. Stepping slightly to the side, she brought herself directly above the supine colt.
“Why d...do you…” he trailed off, gazing at the marehood hovering just overhead.
“Because my King deserves a mare in heat,” she cooed, lecherous intent dripping from her every word. Bowing forward, bringing her face to his groin, she bent her knees and lowered her waist. The move left the lad’s face buried in her crotch and simultaneously allowed her another sumptuous chance to suck him off. She groaned, dragging her tongue up his shaft, as he began lapping at her sex.
Inexperienced or not, the lips and tongue bathing her snatch were a welcome sensation. Rocking her hips forward and back, she made sure to paint his countenance with her scent. If she had her say, and she always did, he’d be smelling her for days to come. Working his member into her mouth, she set upon him like a ravenous beast.
Sadly, the extemporaneous sixty-nine was all too brief, as the colt quickly recoiled and weakly coughed. The discomforted noise from her nubile paramour plucked at the alicorn’s maternal heartstrings, causing her to to relent. Standing straight and stepping away, allowing the poor lad to breathe, she crawled onto the desk beside him.
“I’m sorry,” Celestia apologized, pulling his small frame further onto the table, “that was rather unbecoming. Please, allow me to redress my impudence…” Stepping over his lower abdomen, she squatted over him; with an almost preternatural accuracy, the glans of his dick nudged against her sopping wet entrance. “So if you would, please,” she continued, eagerly waggling her waist from side to side, “forgive me…”
As she concluded her plea, she sunk down and slowly impaled herself on the colt below her. The sensation of his cock plunging into her, of feeling every vein and contour along its length, caused a tremor of delight to shoot through her. To think a youthful commoner could elicit such a reaction was unheard of, bordering on the absurd. As her depths were claimed by inch after glorious inch of wondrous colthood, she only slowed when she reached his medial ring.
Peering down at him, realizing that the penetration held his attention, she couldn’t help but giggle. “Is this your first time with a mare, my King?”
Sam languidly nodded his head, his eyes never parting from the glistening entrance clinging tightly to his shaft. Celestia’s coy smile stood in stark contrast to her intentions, as she slammed her waist down and utterly engulfed his prick. As the girthy band of flesh marking the base of his tool ground against her g-spot, the faintest of groans escaped her.
Either due to her fleeting loss of composure, being fully hilted, or both, Sam’s hips flexed upward. Small though he was, the thrust jarred Celestia and snapped her back to the present. Her diminutive partner had finally nibbled the bait - it was only a matter of time until he bit down and took it. Steadying herself, she started lazily bouncing on atop him.
Almost reluctantly, ostensibly tapping into his ingrained biological drive to mate, the colt began mirroring her motions. As she threw her ass back, he relaxed; as she plunged downward, he drove his waist up to meet her. His timing wasn’t perfect, at times throwing their orchestra of motion out of sync, although it was a refreshing change of pace.
Enjoying herself more and more, with every passing moment, she thought to reward her valiant young King’s efforts with a bit of a show. Running her hands over-top her breasts, gently tweaking each nipple, she gazed down upon the colt. “Mmmmmm,” she throatily moaned, theatrically casting her head back and to the side. “Having fun down - Nnnph!” she grunted, when he forcefully bucked into her.
Vigorously nodding, all Sam could muster was an overly enthusiastic pant. Eagerly humping her, while he watched her toy with herself, she was stricken by divine inspiration. Since he had belatedly taken to his role, trying his best to fulfill his stallionly duties, why not give him a touch more control. Her motions gradually halted, leaving her motionless above him.
Smiling sweetly upon him, she stood and unsheathed his tool from her velvety canal. Climbing down from the desk and strutting to the bed, calmly crawling over the soft blankets and sheets, she pressed her heavy chest to the mattress. Swinging her tail to the side, she reached back and sunk her fingers into the pillowy cheeks of her behind. If prizing her buns apart and giving the lad the most depraved invitation imaginable wasn’t enough to provoke him to act, nothing would be.
Sure enough, her efforts almost instantaneously bore fruit; with the patter of scampering feet and a creak of the mattress, he scampered onto the bed behind her. She didn’t even have time to look back, before he shuffled between her thighs, aligned himself with her presented rear, and plunged his colthood into her sopping wet cunt.
“Yes,” she purred, as he started rutting her like a beast possessed.
There was no grace, no skill or finesse, as Sam started plowing her like a verdant field in spring. It was unrefined - it was crass - but most importantly, it was exactly what she yearned for. Resting her head to the side, she closed her eyes and fixated on the sensations his furiously pistoning tool afforded her.
Bedding seasoned stallions was, in a sense, boring - at least, in comparison to their more inexperienced counterparts. The way colts feverishly caved to their baser desires, wantonly fucking like it was the last day of their lives, was just so sinfully indulgent. Each and every one she’d lured to her chamber had wound up screwing her with reckless abandon and, so far as she knew, she was the one to despoil them all; not that she kept an exact tally of her conquests, but she prided herself in slaking their budding urges.
The soft sounds of heavy breaths, the occasional moan, and the rhythmic impacts of Sam’s hips slamming against the Princess’ tush were a hushed testament to the pleasure Celestia and the young stallion shared, yet they craved more. The lad’s movements became faster and harder with every passing second, while the alicorn pushed herself back to meet his thrusts. Snaking one arm under her waist, her fingers drifted to her groin.
The sensation of his slick length, plunging into her over and over, was a welcome byproduct of what she intended. Pinching and eagerly rubbing her clit, she drove herself closer to release. Almost subconsciously, her free hand burrowed beneath one tit, only stopping when the rigid nub of her nipple graced her digits. Twisting the bud of flesh, she clenched her marehood around her partner’s shaft.
“Aaaahn,” Sam whimpered, issuing a particularly forceful thrust.
“Allow me to…” Celestia drew silent, as the tip of her finger detected some odd moisture. It wasn’t the digits on her sex which caught her attention - no, it was the fingers on her bosom.
Retracting her arms, she pushed herself up and steadied herself on one hand. She raised an eyebrow, staring down at her wetted index finger and thumb, before looking at her pair of udder-like teats hanging from her chest. To her amazement, a glistening drop of pearly fluid dripped from one nipple, down to the sheets below.
The colt faltered, doubtless having taken stock of the unexpected change of pace. “Princess, is everything -”
“‘Tis fine,” she sighed in frustration. It wasn’t the first time that dosing herself in hormones had resulted in spontaneous lactation, although it had been the better part of a century since it had last happened.
Easing herself onto her side, dismissing the leaky distraction, she hastily rolled to her back. Given how the telltale signs of release were upon her, and how he’d been planning on eventually transitioning to a missionary position, so it was as good a time as any to shift gears. Raising and parting her legs, she extended an arm and covered her snatch with her hands - that was, until she spread herself for him.
Like a hound smelling a bitch in heat, Sam leapt upon her. Clamoring between her thighs, he effortlessly drove his colthood into her. Jackhammering away, panting heavily, sweat beaded on his brow. His gaze drifted to her swaying breasts - particularly the one which dribbled milk over her alabaster fur. His face, contorted with pleasure and an unspoken longing, left her to act on impulse.
Noting what held his eye, a curious notion came to Celestia. Cupping the teat, angling it towards him, she lovingly smiled. “Go ahead…”
No sooner had she spoken than the lad draped himself over her torso. Licking and kissing her breast, his lips locked around her tender nipple. Thirstily nursing, swallowing down the rich cream, his bucking hips never ceased pounding - if anything, he moved with renewed vigor.
Affectionately resting one hand on his head, gently tussling his mane and pulling him to herself, Celestia teased her free teat. Their change in positioning, besides allowing her to look upon her lover, was also substantially more pleasurable than being on her knees. The battering ram-like head of his tool bumped against her cervix, his medial ring continually massaged her g-spot, and his suckling was downright heavenly.
Rolling her head back and closing her eyes, her rapture steadily mounted. Bucking her waist to meet his plunges, growing increasingly energetic as the minutes passed, a nova of pleasure welled within her. Considering the lad’s rhythm was losing cohesion, transitioning from long, somewhat steady thrusts to a frantic thrusting, her little lover likely wouldn’t last long. She sighed, realizing she’d likely be left to finish herself off, but then the world flipped on its head.
“Mommy,” Sam whimpered, his quiet voice cutting through the air like a razor.
Celestia’s heart skipped, her marehood seized, and her voice caught in her throat. Some part of her mind, some deeply ingrained portion of her being heard his call. The combination of maternal instinct combined with her carnal wants, pushing her sanity itself to the very brink. Wrapping her legs around him, pulling him to her deepest depths, she tenderly stroked his head. Railing against her, fucking her madly, he peeked up and looked into her eyes.
“P...please,” was all the Princess could muster, sensing his flaring colthood bearing against her womb.
Driving his waist forward, with every ounce of strength he could muster, Sam hilted. Throwing his head to the side, practically burying his face between the two mountainous breasts, his climactic braying was met by a sudden heat flooding her canal. Holding him tightly, teetering on the brink, she was granted release.
The scalding seed surging through his wildly throbbing length crashed into her. With the head of his dick kissing her cervix, her womb was positively bathed in his essence, marking her and claiming her as his own. Her composure broke, her sex gushed feminine nectar, and she howled to the heavens. The heady cocktail of all her wishes came to fruition, sending her spiraling into a tempestuous sea of ecstasy.
Quivering uncontrollably, her toes curled and her fingers sunk into the soft flesh of the lad’s back. It was in every way cathartic and catastrophically beautiful, allowing herself the bliss she so dearly yearned for. Pinning him to herself, ensuring every last drop of his cum was deposited within her, she embraced nirvana.
Time itself seemed to dilate, drawing out the moment for longer than seemingly possible, before Sam wearily craned his neck and latched onto her bosom once again. Heaving air into her chest, Celestia relented and relaxed her legs. He could drink his fill from her, as far as she was concerned, considering he’d given himself to her in such a profoundly rewarding fashion.
Peering down at him, the corners of her mouth turned up. Yes, she’d be sure he was well cared for and trained to be the finest sentry imaginable - after all, she’d made a stallion out of him and had every intention of having him serve her for years to come…