Dormant

Chapters

I Have Been Patient Long Enough...
Things Left Forgotten
Discordant Rhythms

I Have Been Patient Long Enough...

A singular, dissatisfied grunt echoed throughout the spacious room. He looked down at the mare who continued to service him, head working in earnest, dipping up and down with unrelenting enthusiasm, almost as if she was completely enthralled by the act, unable to get enough.

She moaned in unabated ecstasy as she carried out her task, unknowing or caring of who might witness or judge her, such was his effect. Besides her, there were two other mares in the room who had already taken their turn—a regular and a new initiate. All of them alike were between stages of being near-passed out and pure catatonia, staring glossy-eyed at the ceiling as they struggled to regain their breaths.

A small twitch as the mare below switched up her rhythm, whimpering a little all the while. He had to give it to her, she was resilient. Even so, it wasn’t doing the trick and he knew it, only frustrating him more. This new mare’s tongue felt pleasant enough, but even still, he was beginning to grow tired of her.

“Enough,” he spoke, calmly, his voice carrying an ethereal quality that was difficult to fully pin down. Each syllable left wisps of otherworld energy hanging in the air. “You may leave me now.”

There was a visible shudder from each mare in the room, even the ones that had been near sleeping were on their hooves within moments, bidding their reluctant farewells and beginning to shuffle out of the room single-file, looking back to him on occasion, eyes lust-filled and wanting.

The mare that had been most recently attempting to ‘dispel’ him seemed the most desperate to stay, to the point that he even had to repeat himself once in order to convince her to leave. Rarely did he ever have to say anything to a mare twice, and in a way, it troubled him. It meant the effects were only becoming stronger.

But then, another part of him, the selfish, id filled part, struggled to truly care.

In the depths of the royal chamber, Princess Luna was just about finishing up with choking on her tea. “You mean to tell me he is still here?”

Celestia regarded her sister with tired eyes, blinking slowly. “Yes, Luna.”

Luna struggled to regain her breath, a flurry of panic about her as she gestured forth with her hooves. “the Harbinger of Decadence, the Salacious One, the God of Fornication?” she whispered the last one, seeming in the process of fighting a chill. “He lives still, beneath the castle?”

Celestia fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, Luna. Old cursed gods don’t typically have a tendency to spontaneously dissipate from the mortal realm. Usually we either banish them or imprison them somewhere.” She stopped short, holding a hoof over her lips as Luna flinched. “Sorry, was that insensitive?”

“No less than you were a thousand years ago,” Luna quipped with a small, awkward laugh to compliment her words. She set about cleaning up her spilt drink with a spell as she spoke, righting herself. “So, why are you only bringing this to my attention now? I’ve been back for a year already now, and still I haven’t heard of this?”

“It never seemed pertinent to mention.” Celestia sighed, she knew this part was going to be strange to say the least. Standing and walking towards her open balcony, she stood out, facing away from Luna and regarding nighttime Canterlot, with its blinking lights and rolling glow down the mountain and into the distance. “He’s been rejecting the mares we’ve been sending to sate him for a while. He says they’re too similar, and he acclimates to them too quickly.”

“How long has it been since his last release?” Luna asked with alarm, her voice hitching. She’d never been one for subtlety, and it seemed that hadn’t changed now.

“The end of October, so roughly three weeks,” Celestia answered, signalling a gasp from her sister. “He’s being drained less often and more heavily than usual, though I fear the gap between successful sessions is widening too much.”

“I remember the last time he was so pent up, it was about 1200 years ago!” Luna zipped past her sister in flight, hovering in front of her, a light in her eyes. “Oh, sister, the cacophonous and debauched actions that had to be taken as a result then, do you remember? They were things that might make even Discord’s head spin!”

Celestia felt something catch in her throat as she recalled some more choice solutions that she had privy to, or even participated in, only once or twice. “The kingdom has progressed since then, sister, though I do not deny that I haven’t considered repeating a night such as that at least once lately, if only due to how much of an issue this is becoming…” Celestia weathered a sigh as her sister took to her feet again, looking down at her. “Only, I fear it wouldn’t work a second time. Again, he will have adjusted to the experience.”

“The same problem as always,” Luna nodded, her ears folding back, eyes a grave portrait searching space for a solution that seemed firmly out of her grasp. “I assume you finally brought this to me because you wished to brainstorm—have you yet to converse with the creature on the matter, or have you spoken already?”

“In the last thousand years, you mean?” Celestia sat in place, shrugging her withers. “We speak on occasion, mainly me dealing with requests or complaints from him, or simply discussing matters that are too far transpired to be used against me in future.” She regarded her sister. “Do not worry, I haven’t grown too fond of him, I still realise the very real danger he poses.” For but a moment, a scarlet tint marred her cheeks. “I do admit... he can even be pleasant company, at times.”

Luna looked as if she’d just bitten down on a wasp. She snarled, approaching Celestia and sticking her muzzle right in her face. “Sister! Just how frequent have these little ‘talk sessions’ become, I wonder?” She sneered. “Suppose you also let him stroke your mane, and—”

“Only on occasion!” Celestia bleated, her voice losing all of its royal affectation for just a moment, sounding like a normal pony once more. “I still have my dignity, Luna!”

“I was being hyperbolic! You actually permit him to do that?” Luna rubbed at her eyes with a hoof. “It is too late in the day for this…” She fought off the apparent fatigue, squaring herself and taking a step back, allowing Celestia some space to at least breathe. “I apologise. I should not have shouted.” She bit her lip. “This is rather serious though… if the creature is able to break down your barriers, even a little, then how long will it be until—”

“I know.” Celestia responded, her tone having once again gained its solidarity. “I will not allow that to happen to all of the ponies in Equestria, I will not. Forgive me for having been so foolish up until now.” And it was genuine. Celestia knew that if that being’s myriad desires couldn’t be properly fulfilled for too long, it would only spell doom for the ponies of this world. “Forgive me, sister, as I need to make a request of you, and it’s something I can’t do myself.”

Luna flinched at that, her body tensing on the spot. “What exactly are you asking me to do?” She blinked rapidly, a blush tinting her complexion, her muzzle twisting. “I swear, Celestia, if you’re asking me to do what I think you are, first, it is definitely asking too much after what we went through,” she paused, took a breath, steadied herself, “and secondly, we don’t even know it would work! It may have been over a thousand years, but—”

“Sister, please, relax…” Celestia ran a hoof through Luna’s mane, trying to quell the rising tension inside of her. “I promise, I would never ask you to do that for me, not ever again.”

A calming breath, another, and Luna was alright. “I’m glad, even if…”

“A part of you wishes that was what I was asking?” Celestia ventured, being met with a slow nod. “I know, dear sister, I know. It’s been hard on both of us…” For a short time, Celestia simply stroked her sister’s mane, drinking in the peace of the moment, not allowing them both to be overcome with worry completely.

Eventually, she spoke. “Luna, I need you to look within the creature’s dreams and find the true object of his desire, or as close to it as you can. I’m sure that it may have changed in the last thousand years, after all…”

It was to be Base Skipper’s first and possibly final time attending to the legendary creature. As she understood it, many mares weren’t permitted to return more than once. She was a spry young bat pony in her early twenties, athletic and sound-minded, with aspirations of becoming a weather engineer in the future, but had found this opportunity through a friend that worked with the Canterlot Guard. It was all very secretive from what she understood: mares were picked discreetly and bound with magics to prevent them from speaking to anyone outside of the know about what transpired, and were then bid to perform tasks for the creature to satiate his whims. It was all voluntary, of course, but Base Skipper imagined that such an opportunity was difficult to pass up for any mare, single or not.

She’d been prepped extensively when she arrived at the castle, then hooded and garbed and taken below the mountain, below the usual dungeons, or so she was told, to a large and spacious chamber that looked as if it predated even the castle, with massive openings and chasms that led down and down into the unknown all built over with magical, protective barriers preventing anyone from falling.

Base Skipper could feel the anticipation clutching at her chest as she met the mares that would be joining her, one a pegasus, more classically beautiful and perhaps a little older, and one a petite, energetic unicorn, though she was possibly her age or a little younger. They all tried to varying degrees to mask their excitement, but the closer they got to his cell, the more each of them began to let slip just how much they were looking forward to the experience.

The God of Fornication was a legend given form. Mentions of a creature who could utterly control the whims of other ponies through their base urges and instincts grew in historical mention until eventually, a creature named Discord took control of Equestria, and for a long time, this historical entity went unmentioned. It was only when Celestia and Luna used the Elements of Harmony to vanquish Discord that they discovered he had been holding this creature imprisoned throughout his entire rule.

His cell was more like a palace bedroom, despite being underground. No expense looked to have been spared on the decorations and tapestries that adorned the room, nor the library on the far side, the chairs and cushions, the red velvety rug, the silver bowls and cutlery…

To Base Skipper, it was so strange to see, to witness that this was how a supposed prisoner lived, but she understood the truth of the matter. When they finally saw him, he really, honestly was a sight that the bat pony could scarcely describe… his stature was firm—he was clearly a bipedal creature, despite the fact he was sitting, with plenty of height on any of them, and the broadness of his chest and breadth of his hands only made him appear more enticing…

He had a sharp jaw, well-defined features, and he just so happened to be put together exactly how Base Skipper liked her men. Well-dressed in a suit and tie, regarding the three of them with a patient stare, sipping on a glass of what she could only assume was wine from the aroma in the air… There were candles, too, juniper, one of her favourite scents, and while she knew that such a thing should be impossible, part of her understood just how it was.

When he beckoned for her specifically to come closer to him, her heart started to pound against her chest. There was no in-between, no build-up. Such a commanding presence didn’t need to allow for any. She was already his, and she knew it.

At first, they tried to free him, considering him to simply be a prisoner. When they saw him begin to take control of other ponies and use them, they attempted to do to him what they had to Discord, but the Elements proved completely ineffective. Whatever this creature was, no matter how chaotic, he wasn’t evil, and thus the Elements failed.

Base Skipper wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she was now pressed against the creature’s chest, kissing him full on the lips, holding him, the two of them caressing one another romantically, fully, the kind of embrace that she’d always wanted from a partner but never quite realised just how desperately she needed up until now. She could feel a yearning within her, a latent desire to bring this creature as much pleasure, satisfaction, and attention as she possibly could for making her feel so safe and secure.

It was sad, honestly. It seemed that the creature was as much a victim of circumstance as he was of his own power. He genuinely did not seem to wish to hurt ponies, but they had only been able to bring him to heel after he was released by first quelling his desires. The power and form of the sisters, both goddesses in their own right, saw to that for a time, but eventually, he began to become used to them. Too used to them, until eventually, they could no longer satisfy him.

He’d focussed on her more than he had on either of the other ponies, and for that she felt so worthy of his firm stare, his sculpted body, his rich but deep voice… he asked permission before he did everything, but again and again, she granted it, allowing him to touch her in places not many stallions had, to caress her, to kiss and lick down her body sending static shocks ricocheting around her and running up her spine in a full vocal declaration of just how enchanted she was by his touch... guttural groans and gasps ran chorus with his ministrations, bringing her to the edge more times than she ever remembered.

It eclipsed any previous sexual experience, dwarfed them all. There was nothing else like this in the entire world, she was sure of it.

In the hundred years running up to that eventuality, he had been able to roam the palace—and all of Equestria—freely and contentedly. The princesses had loved him, and he had enjoyed them in turn, but when his desire ran dry, he chose to be imprisoned of his own free will. He knew by then the danger he posed.

When it came to the time for them to finally culminate their joint experience, to progress to something more meaningful and whole than foreplay, it ignited a different feeling in Base Skipper than she had ever known prior.

This was more than wanting, or feeling, or simply enjoying the touch and attention of another. In her young, inexperienced mind, she was almost sure it was love.

When he entered her, it should’ve hurt. Maybe it did, the feeling of his impressive length inside of her so whole and bodily encompassing that she had to fight the urge to scream from the pressure, but she could scarcely register the pain. All she could think of was that she wanted more of him. She knew he could go deeper still. She wanted him to. She wrapped her hind legs around him and begged him with her eyes to bury himself further inside, to claim her, to make her his.

This monstrously alluring, unspeakably desirable creature was all that she could ever want. The idea of any other stallion didn’t compare. The idea of a pony didn’t compare. This was her only need now, this man with his soft skin and muscular body, with his impressive stature and the impossible degree to which he filled her, she couldn’t get enough.

Base Skipper huffed and whimpered and suppressed the desire to cry out until she could no longer, tears flowing freely, the creature’s hands wrapped around her barrel as he lifted her up with impressive strength and placed her back down on his length, burying himself inside her, impaling her with his length, sweet little dulcet moans sounding from the base of his throat.

Being pressed against him like this, she could feel every breath being pushed from his diaphragm, could feel the beat of his heart against his, could see the spark in his eyes as he hit a spot she really fucking liked. It was no question that he knew just what he was doing, but what was more curious still was that his focus seemed to be entirely on pleasuring her!

Every mare he touched, all that he even deemed to speak to fell immediately and irrevocably into the throes of lust, permanent and never ending. Each would want for him until their final day. He would be imprinted onto them, and even when he was a distant memory, there would still be a feeling of emptiness amongst them.

When he pulled out and placed her down, though it was only seemingly to switch positions, Base Skipper felt an immeasurable emptiness in that moment. It was difficult to describe as it wasn’t only physical, but also there was an emotional well within her that seemed to have been drained by his act of leaving. She knew she needed him back, and now.

When she turned to advance on him once more, she saw that one of the mares from before, the unicorn, was already at work attending on him. Base Skipper had a very sudden and violent urge to throw her out of the way. There was no regard for any other pony in that thought, and the impulse itself was alien to Base Skipper. She’d never been a particularly impatient or confrontational pony, she was rather well-adjusted as far as she was concerned.

But still, that man! That cock, that look he gave her, the sounds he’d made for her, the blazing flare he’d sparked inside of her, she couldn’t give that up!

Nudging the other mare’s head to the side, she fought to wrest control of his cock. He placed his hand on her mane as she did so, stroking her, calming her, and suddenly, Base Skipper felt calmer. His silent reassurance also acted as a reprimand; she could feel the power behind his soft grip, realised it could harden at any point. And so she acted like an obedient girl and tended to him alongside the other mare, the two of them licking and kissing along each side of his cock in unison, their tongues briefly touching at the tip before working their ways back down to his base.

There was a lot of ground to cover, but eventually the two of them graduated to sucking him in turns, competing, seeing which of them would be the first to elicit a stronger moan, which would be worthy of receiving his load, or—preferably—which he’d get tired of not fucking and decide to take aside for a little more one on one time…

They would do anything for him, the mares he had known, and they would do unspeakable things to have him. When Princess Luna had begun visiting him in secret in his underground chambers, over a thousand years ago, it led to turmoil and ruin. He saw then with finality just how far he could push ponies without even intent, even those sacred beings were not immune to his venomous influence. He was better off locked up…

When the experience suddenly ground to a halt, Base Skipper could scarcely handle it. Something beautiful and perfect and transcendent of all she’d ever known had existed, ever so briefly, a feeling she’d never know the words to describe, for such words didn’t exist in her vocabulary. And now it didn’t, and she didn’t understand.

“Enough,” the creature had said. The impact of this singular word hit harder than anything she’d ever heard before. Not a telling off from her father, nor any of the times she’d been chewed out by a teacher or even the time she had to take a ride in a police carriage in Manehatten—all of it was meaningless and inconsequential in comparison to this single utterance.

And it was crazy! It was crazy to think that there she was, blowing him, feeling as if she was at the zenith of her time in the world, that this was it, the peak of enjoyment, the ultimate experience, and it was being cut short. She was being ripped away from it, and all she could do was comply…

No. She’d keep going, she’d make him cum. She had to. With a vigour that drew from all the drive and determination she’d ever felt for anything in her life she continued to play with him, wanting so desperately to win his approval, to make him feel for even a fraction of a second a percentage of that which she felt when he simply looked at him! But yet…

“You may leave me now.” The words were so firmly delivered that Base Skipper couldn’t refute them, couldn’t pretend to have not heard or act as if nothing had happened. As much as she might have wanted to keep going, to carry on being his loyal little servant, her ears gave her away, the way they twitched as he spoke to her. So enthralled, so desperate…

And before she knew it, she was leaving of her own will. She couldn’t even remember her compliance, but as much as she wanted what she’d left behind, she could feel within her that she had chosen to give it up, that she’d done as she was told.

Already she was scheming and plotting, searching for a way to return. When the guardmares met her and the mares she’d entered with by the chamber, she was straight to it, asking and pleading, insisting that she needed to return, and sooner rather than later! She couldn’t be away from him for too long…

“No,” a gold-helmed mare answered her. “You cannot return,” she continued. She was montoned and seemed almost void of compassion when she spoke, but the softness of her eyes spoke of a deep understanding that Base Skipper couldn’t quite grasp. She felt as if she was drowning. Why couldn’t she return? “If you’ve been this affected already, you’re not resilient enough to spend more time around him.” A sigh as she regarded each of them in turn. “I’m sorry, this is the hard part of the job, but I promise it’ll be over soon.”

Base Skipper was led away from the other mares, and from there they were taken into separate rooms. The unicorn seemed to be holding up alright, but the pegasus was in floods of tears as she was led away. It made her heart ache, but at the same time it was difficult to be properly compassionate right now… They were lucky that they’d gotten to be in the same room as him, let alone have him look at them, and yet, we were meant to leave now, and never return? We were—

There was no way… “I could handle it if I tried again, I could! I could succeed next time, too! I-I could practice in the meantime, and—” What was she saying? Practice? Was she going to whore herself out to other stallions in order to become better at servicing him? No, she couldn’t, she only wanted him, the idea of another’s touch was repulsive… She shuddered, the finality of the situation finally beginning to set in. “Please.” Her voice cracked, her tail pressed against the cold cobbles, her body quivering. “Please let me come back…”

“It’s out of the question. I’m sorry, but it has to be like this…” The guardsmare began to channel a spell from her horn once they reached an isolated room, and Base Skipper felt cool waves begin to wash over her. The magic obfuscated her vision, muddled her thoughts. It seemed to have some kind of sedative effect, though Base Skipper wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.

As the guardsmare continued to work, muttering as she worked her magic, Base Skipper began to feel memories slipping away, becoming harder to understand or properly recall. She could remember everything from her usual everyday life just fine, still, but the details around her visit started to become more and more confusing as time went on, until eventually, while she could remember the reason she’d came, the details of her meeting with the creature were all but blank.

She understood why it had to be done, or at least she thought she did. Everything was a little muddled right now, and she felt dizzy. She’d been paid for her time, and turned away soon after, and before long, Base Skipper had resumed her normal life. She lived and loved, and was generally happy, but from that point onwards, there always felt as if there was a strange, nebulous hole inside her that nothing could fill.

It wasn’t a horrible feeling, or something that she couldn’t handle day to day, but it was uncomfortable all the same. Nothing satisfied her fully, it always felt as if there should’ve been something more there, something with some real substance.

What was she missing?

The God of Decadence, as he was so called, sighed deeply.

Stretching, he began to make his way across his spacious cell, though it could barely be called one, rolling his shoulders as he moved in an attempt to loosen his stiff body. He showered, letting the warm water wash over him and pull away the day’s sweat. It’d been another day of failed attempts, none of them were even close.

If he’d been told in his adolescence that this was the future that awaited him, he might’ve jumped for joy. Now, over a thousand years later, he desperately wanted out. Why did this have to be the sum of his existence? Hours upon hours of attempts to dispel the energy inside of him, something he’d not been able to do alone for a very long time, new mares almost every day, though he never saw any of them more than a few times.

If he was to even attempt to calculate how many he’d been through in his long, long life… it boggled the mind, even to him. Not that it made it any harder to tell them apart. Every mare was unique to him, each with qualities that made them dissimilar to the others or traits that set them apart…

But it still wasn’t enough. The frequency with which he found a mare that he felt enough of a connection with that he could enjoy himself, or that he simply felt their raw sexual prowess was strong enough or found them aesthetically pleasing was steadily diminishing. His standards had rose, he supposed. He’d felt every myriad feeling that a human could before, surely, and while he was thoroughly convinced that nothing out there would surprise him anymore, he could always hope that he’d be able to at least recapture some of his favourite sensations, every once in a while.

The alternative was dangerous. It’d already been around three weeks since he last finished himself off, and with every day, every second that passed he could feel his psyche beginning to slip. What might happen if he didn’t get something that worked soon? Would he hurt a mare? Truly hurt her? Would he be able to keep himself contained anymore? He knew that he could mount an escape attempt pretty much whenever he wanted if he truly tried, and that no one would be able to stop him with ease, but his waning conscience, his concepts of morality, his connection with the princesses kept him at bay.

But that tether was slipping. He could imagine what it’d be like now. He could find a quiet corner, a small village, and set himself up a life, try and keep it quiet, meet a nice mare…

But the longer he abstained, the stronger his powers would become, and before he knew it, he’d be taking ponies over without even meaning to. It wouldn’t be long until they declared him some kind of local leader, and then, ponies would flock in, he wouldn’t even have to seek them, he wouldn’t even need the drive to conquer…

Until eventually, all of Equestria would be sat on his dick, and he would be king, and that would be that. None would be able to stop him by then. Is that what he wanted? Truly, it wasn’t.

If that’d been his desire, he’d have actualised it by now a thousand times. But then, there was always the chance that he’d only been keeping that selfish want at bay with these constant visitation fucks over the last millenia. What if that was the case?

He knew that what he truly needed was someone to love. That was it, the one feeling he’d never felt in the last thousand years. He wasn’t sure if he was incapable of love, or if he simply hadn’t found the right mare, in all of this time, but he knew that if he truly wanted to break this feeling and live happily for the first time, if he wanted to get away from these horrible feelings, that was what he would need.

It was a pipedream, but it was still a nice one to have nonetheless. Between the reading, sleeping, and sex, a person had plenty of time to think, to wish, to want.

Author's Note

Good to be back. Really good to be back, I've missed you all.

That all said, I've got a blog post I hope you can take the time to read, as it's pretty serious. If you're able to have a look, a million thanks.

Looking forward to seeing comments and posting the next chapter, keep your eyes open for more!

Things Left Forgotten

The God of Decadence, as he was so called, sighed deeply.

But that tether was slipping. He could imagine what it’d be like now. He could find a quiet corner, a small village, and set himself up a life, try and keep it quiet, meet a nice mare…

Until eventually, all of Equestria would be sat on his dick, and he would be king, and that would be that. None would be able to stop him by then. Is that what he wanted? Truly, it wasn’t.

It was a pipedream, but it was still a nice one to have nonetheless. Between the reading, sleeping, and sex, a person had plenty of time to think, to wish, to want.

I Found Something I Wasn’t Looking For

Princess Luna found herself strolling along a beach. She quickly recognised the Trottingham shipyards in the distance, though the landscape looked not like it did now, but how she remembered it a millennia past. It was strange to say the least, looking through the periphery of another, experiencing their thoughts, memories, and fantasies…

But when they were those of a being as complex and unique as the God of Decadence, and when those same dreams were grounded in a past she too had been there to witness? That was when things took a definite step towards the uncanny.

The surreality of the situation was offset by the simplicity of the setting. Ponies went about their business in the foreground, buying food from a farmer’s market, walking with their children, laughing and conversing in the widely paved cobbled streets… it was a spacious area, filled with live and vibrancy. Further still, you could see the beach past rows of spaced out houses, where ponies lounged, swam, and played in melodious accord.

It was a happy, serene place, even as it was alive with the sound of chatter.

It was on that crowded, open white beach that Luna found her creature, and where his slumber had brought him.

Oh, he was still a beauty to behold… his tall, imposing but regal stature, his athletic, defined body, his soft lips and the gentle curls of his hair, his eyes, his smile, his—Luna steeled herself with a hard stomp against the sand beneath her. She wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to notions of fantasy. This was the dreamscape, this was her realm, she was meant to have the power here!

And yet, no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, it made him no less alluring. His simple presence, even without him having noticed her, even with him only being a mental projection, only holding a fraction of the creature’s actual presence?

Simply his image was enough to drive Luna to want more. To want to talk to him, to touch him, to kiss him once more…

But of course, she would find the will to refrain. She was here to study him, to watch that which he did and learn exactly what it was that made him tick. Helping the kingdom was important. Helping her sister was important. This wasn’t real, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be sucked into it.

The first thing she noted upon watching him was that he was sat alone. He wore nothing but trunks and shades, leaving his impressive abdomen on full display, sat on a towel with his arms behind him, holding himself up and looking out towards the rest of the beach. Luna snuck her way a little closer, questioning herself as she did so.

She knew that she was in control. Other creatures would not see that Luna had entered their dream unless she chose to reveal herself, she was essentially invisible to them, but even still she felt the need, the compulsion to sneak around. Because what if he did? What if they made eye contact, for even a second? Even with his eyes hidden by the glasses, what if he saw her?

And so Luna snuck because it felt safer that way. And she sat, and she waited, and she wished that she didn’t feel so much desire and forward momentum pooling in her stomach…

Eventually, he rose. He’d been reading a book, she noted, something she hadn’t originally realised. Apparently, for all the time that Luna had spent looking in his direction, she still couldn’t pay enough attention to specifics to realise even that. She knew it was because she was averting her eyes, trying not to stare, but this was ridiculous. She needed to get ahold of herself.

As she looked around her, trying to realign herself, Luna realised with a gasp that she might’ve been the only one staring. It didn’t feel realistic whatsoever, when she thought about it. She’d taken it as normal when she first arrived but now, when she considered it, did that make any sense whatsoever?

If the Salacious One were sat on a beach in Equestria, every pony in the general vicinity would be clambering over one another in an attempt to reach him and win his favour first. They’d notice him, they’d want him, and they’d try to approach and seize him. Such was his effect, and the only thing that had ever staved it off, for a time, was the connection he had once shared with both her and her sister.

And yet there he was, strolling along the beach, getting nothing more but a vaguely interested glance every once and a while. The kind of glance a pony might give a strange creature that they’d never seen before. One they had a vague interest in, but nothing beyond that…

Luna’s eyes widened at the realisation. She stopped following him, her legs going dead as she pondered that the truth could indeed be this simple, and yet this dooming. “Is this really what he wants? To be left alone?”

No one answered, of course. But then, that’s only because she didn’t ask in the right place. Searching, Luna quickly found and cornered a young mare, probably in her twenties, taking her to the side and engaging her in conversation. She chatted with her like you might a stranger you met on the beach, and once introductions were out of the way, she showed him to the mare. “You see that creature over there?”

“Yeah, what about him?” the dream mare answered, an eyebrow raised.

“What exactly does he look like to you? What do you think of him?” Luna couldn’t understand it, was he meant to be invisible to those around him in this fantasy?

“A human, of course,” the mare scoffed, looking at Luna as if she was crazy. “What, have you never seen one before?” The mare looked at him for a little while longer as Luna’s head span, before concluding: “He is kinda cute though… think I should go talk to him? Do you know him?” she gestured between Luna and him, sat a short distance away. “Is that why you’re here, to try and get me to go over to him?”

Luna truly needed a second to catch up, but the only way this was gonna work was if she bought into the fantasy and played along, so she decided to try her best to roll with it. “Yeah, something like that…” Luna smiled at her new imaginary friend. “You think you could go over and have a chat with him? I’m sure he’d appreciate the company...”

“Hmm… yeah, sure, if you say so.”

Luna watched as the young mare walked over and sat down beside him, listened as the two of them began to chat. The dream began to morph around them as the mare became more and more of a focal point, the two of them bantering back and forth.

“So, you come here often?” he said, eyes firmly on her, no longer absorbed in his reading.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” came the response, fast as anything.

And it continued in this manner for a while, and to Luna, it was simply astounding, watching this mare play her cards so close to her chest, leaving him waiting and wondering, not simply being wooed or romanced by a word or a touch, it was as if…

It was as if he was normal. It was as if he was just like anypony else in the world. He didn’t want to be invisible, did he? He didn’t want to be left alone, or to find the absolute perfect pony, or anything like that…

He just wanted somepony to see him, the way that he saw them, and that was all there was to it.

And right then, right there, Luna wanted to see him too. To see him as a man, the way this other mare did. She revealed herself to him then, striding over and sitting down beside the two of them. “Room for one more?” she smiled, nestling herself comfortably into the towel, quickly forgetting the other mare’s presence and moving to say hello to the object of her attention. “Hey there, don’t suppose you’d mind a little more company?”

“Luna?” his voice struck her like hot coals.

“Y-you remember me.” The dream shifted again. The pony next to her sat up, more attentive, and scooted closer to him. “What exactly do you remember?”

Suddenly, it felt like more eyes were on the three of them. Luna could feel his gaze, too, pick it out from the rest, the naked, exposed feeling it offered in abundance. It was captivating, but also liberating. She felt trapped beneath him as he regarded her, but like she could do anything at the same time. It was the strangest contrast, but as familiar as it was foreign, and as welcome as it was anxiety-inducing.

“I remember what we shared,” he stated, lowering his sunglasses, looking at her fully. She felt a deep compulsion to pounce on him then, to kiss him. She barely remained rooted on the ground. “I remember the openness, the passion, the depth of our bond, as brief as it might’ve seemed looking back now.”

Her better instincts were working overtime to prevent her from doing something she’d deeply regret. How could he recall so much in this state? How was he so lucid? It shouldn’t have been like this, Luna should’ve been able to—

“Hey, lady, I saw him first, alright?” the dream pony from before piped up. Apparently, she’d forgotten the conversation they’d had earlier. Had Luna shattered the illusion already? Had her desire eclipsed the dream’s atmosphere? “Back off, find your own man.”

Luna dissipated the annoying pony with a flick of her hoof. She ceased to be, and everyone in the dream moved forwards as if she’d never existed, as they should’ve.

“That was rather distressing to witness. Did she deserve that?”

Luna felt a cold stabbing, like the blood in her legs had become very still. There was no way he should’ve been able to recall or recognise what she just did, there was no way—

There was blood on Luna’s hoof. Unmistakably, there was blood matted against her fur, and on the other side of the beach towel, past the creature for which her future had stopped, for which her past was devoted, Celestia laid sprawled on the ground, wings splayed.

She was clutching her muzzle with both forehooves. Her lip was split.

“You shouldn’t have done that to your sister, Luna. It was needless and cruel.”

His voice was stern, but empathic. It spoke of forgiveness, of care and acceptance.

Luna blinked. They were no longer on a beach, but in her own royal chambers. In her bed. All three of them were in bed together. Celestia’s blood stained her satin sheets. She felt guilty, and horrible, and—

“There, there, it’s okay, my princess… I’ll be with you again soon.” The creature reached down to stroke her sister, to divert attention away from her, to scold her and then touch her sister instead of her, to leave her feeling all cold and distant and then to—

Celestia choked back tears, holding out a hoof and stroking his face in turn as he nurtured her…”My love, I only want you… I want you to be all mine…”

“I’ve told you not to fucking touch him.” Luna struck her again. She felt the crunch against her hooves. She raised them once more, to punish him also, but she found herself incapable. She fought the urge to break down in tears until she couldn’t. “This is my bed…” she moaned and thrashed between tears, trying not to scream. “You’ve climbed into my bed for… for what? We agreed that I could have him three days in a week, and you the other four, and you blasted even keep to your own blasted rota?! This is my time, and I will not have you encroaching on it, you will not steal him away from me!”

Luna spat each of the words with a vitriol that felt so alien to her, yet so right when she was with him. She could be anyone if it was for his affection, do anything, be any version of herself necessary in order to truly win his love…

She needed to wake up. She needed to wake up and she knew it. This was all wrong, it wasn’t meant to be like this.

But now she was kissing him, kissing his face and his body and feeling him kiss her in turn, the sensation of his lips against her muzzle, of his body pressing into her, the ceaseless enjoyment she derived of every instant of affection, of want. She wanted more than anything to wrap herself around him, to take everything he deemed her worthy of and earn all that existed beyond that, to make him want her, to make him feel as if she was deserving of his effort and time, to give him even a shred of the satisfaction he so easily granted her.

Luna needed to wake up.

She forgot Celestia in her mind’s eye, cast her out of the dream. It was just him and her now, in their bed, as it once was. The kissing graduated to full on contact, her tongue against his, dancing in small, teasing, touching motions that skipped and repeated themselves through motion she could only describe as instinctual; her body danced to quite a different beat when she was with him, everything was attuned and aligned differently, she felt as if she had little control of her faculties, and had sacrificed all of that bodily autonomy to him, the one she worshipped.

And now it really was her time to adore him, to show him how much she had missed him, how much she’d been thinking about him these last thousand years, how perfect they truly were for each other, why no other mare was even worth looking at when she existed. How they all paled in consideration of the bond that they shared…

She kissed down to his stomach, magically undressing him as she went, stripping him down to his briefs and noting the intimidating size of that which stiffened beneath as she went. It was base and degrading to admit, but she missed it so much, his cock, she felt as if she needed it, as if it would fill something in her that no other pony had ever been able to fill, as if it would leave every question answered and every unresolved tension solved.

Having him would make her whole again, surely. Having back that which she desperately begged for, striving for more, never enough. It was never enough. “I need you, I need you so much…” Desperate little whore for his cock, wasn’t she? She was so fucking needy, and all she wanted beyond anything was to take him right then and there. She’d sacrifice anything for that desire to be satiated right now, anything that she could imagine or think of, her morals, her standards, her self-respect, all of it became transparent and needless, obsolete in the face of the pure hedonistic experience proffered to her now, the primal drive to take that which she wanted, to be taken too, to be his in body and spirit and name for as long as he wanted, whatever he wanted from her, a slave to his every whim and want…

Even when he seemed reluctant to continue, she continued to strip him down. Was he repulsed by her ravenous nature? Or did he simply wish that she was more graceful in the process? Did he wish to exercise more dominance? Was she preventing him from doing as he pleased? No, if that was the case then he would simply let his wish be known and she would follow it, follow his every command. She was at his underwear now, pulling it off of him, exposing him, his neatly trimmed area, his thickness, his impossible length by pony standards, the soft pinkish flesh of his head and the subtle musk he carried down there…

She took a tentative lick, examining and testing the surface and texture as one might sample a wine, but it wasn’t long until all formalities were forgotten and she was to work, licking and suckling on his tip and earnestly attempting to bring him to ecstasy, to give him such pleasure as he hadn’t experienced in such a long time, to make him feel as if she was the best, and she was the one that he wanted, and that he would be lost without her lips, her tongue, her tight little throat wrapped around his shaft…

She felt a small movement from him, a slight thrust, a grunt, and knew that she was doing a good job. She also felt a compulsion telling her to wake up, but she pushed it away. She no longer cared.

Luna’s only concern now was making him cum. That and having him back, having him be a part of her life again, marrying her, or maybe just looking at her every now and then, that’d do, anything really, she just needed him, she needed him, she needed him, she—

Her train of thought was broken by a hand rubbing at the back of her head as she kept going, encouraging her, pushing her forwards, telling her that what she was doing was working, that it was what he needed, that he loved her and appreciated her and wanted her and that that was why he was surely encouraging her to—this is a dream and you know it—Luna didn’t care! She continued to work him as she incorporated a hoof, covering him from base to tip as best she could, keeping his tip in her mouth and swirling around in small concentric circles before switching up and reversing her rhythm in order to keep him entertained, to buy time to prepare herself for what hopefully came next…

It was like a fire had been ignited inside of her when he touched her privates in return, one that had never truly been quelled or snuffed out, one that had always been alive and smoldering since the first time they’d met, though it only took a single touch to be brought back to roaring life, to make her moan and shudder against his cock, to leave her gasping and twitching and begging muffled and wordlessly for more, so fucking helpless, all she could do was continue to try and please him and hope, pray for the same treatment…

The thoughts that each sensation brought to her mind were so cacophonous and disparate that it was as if the noise never stopped, the wonders and fears didn’t abate and the wildness was without pause, it was all-encompassing and brought her to states of bliss that she’d never before quite considered possible. Even when she’d had those same experiences in the past, the memories could never compete with the real thing, and having his very real hands on her, touching her, holding her, making her, such a large creature by pony standards, feel small and nubile and feminine by his touch, was an experience that was scarcely comparable to any other.

He wasn’t a brute, either, even if there was a beast inside of him that she so wanted to see again. He was graceful with his movements, the way his fingers glided over her body made her feel as if she was a canvas being painted in nimble, precise strokes, while the vocal reactions he elicited made her feel as if she was an instrument being played solely for his amusement.

He was her god, above anything else, he eclipsed all other meanings of the word in her mind, to deify him was to explain the cause of every frustration and need she’d ever had, she couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him to fuck her, to fill her, to make her feel that way he used to, to bring her to true happiness once again and leave her at her true peak of being, to keep her there, suspended in euphoria. It was serendipity that allowed him to enter her life, and she was so lucky now, so happy that she’d gotten to see him again, even in this small way, and now that she could…

When she pulled herself away from him she could only do it with the knowledge that what was coming next was better than having him in her mouth, better than anything that a pony could experience. This was it, the last thing in Pandora’s box, the missing element, the ‘x’ that marked the spot, the secret to it all, this coming sensation represented all of that and more, it was a culmination of every positive emotion that Princess Luna could list and more, and she would once again drink thirstily from the fountain of temptation, now, with him laid over her, his body pressed against hers, legs spread and ready, waiting, tremulous as he whispered in her ear…

“You need to wake up, Luna.”

Author's Note

Hope you enjoy the second chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

That all said, I've got a blog post I hope you can take the time to read, as it's pretty serious. If you're able to have a look, a million thanks.

Discordant Rhythms

Princess Luna opened her eyes. She wished she hadn’t. She was in that same bed, all on her own, and as the fragmented memories of the dream began to flood back to her, each one felt like a needle being pulled out of her head. Threads of her consciousness still danced between the waking world and that of the dreamscape, becoming disjointed and lost, wishing and waiting and wondering and more than anything wanting.

Desires left unfulfilled dissipated to dust, discarded and left on the wayside in the wake of cold, hard reality. Her creative, inventive mind that so badly wanted to concoct a satisfactory conclusion to her fantasy had been left threadbare—all of her will had been sapped away.

And then she remembered the part of the dream with her sister. She was fairly certain it wasn’t a memory, it had never happened exactly like that, as far as she remembered at least, but it was still indicative of the past, of the same issues that had driven a wedge, and eventually a rift between the two of them when concerning him and the matter of sharing him, of keeping him and loving him and having him to one of them completely.

The sisters had never been content to share him, though they’d managed to share everything else without fault, including an entire kingdom. He was different, it was too much, she couldn’t… she couldn’t handle it, and Celestia barely could either. If Luna hadn’t snapped, back then, then she knew as well as Celestia did that her sister might’ve done the same.

The dream was an ugly reminder of why she could never go down that road again, but all the same Luna couldn’t help but wonder how harmful it might be to return to his dreams again, at some point in the future…

She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She’d already done too much. Already risked herself, tested her own willpower, scarcely managed to wake herself even!

The most horrific part of it was that she wasn’t even sure if she would’ve managed to free herself at all, if the command hadn’t had his voice behind it. She was pathetic, surely, a mess, a failure of a princess, but at least things hadn’t ended up worse than they already did.

At least, through all of that, she’d managed to discover a small truth about the creature that threatened Equestria, however unwillingly he did so. She’d managed to learn that his desire was something that Luna could never grant him, being affected by him so, something that no pony she knew of could grant him either.

Finding a manner by which to bring the God of Decadence true satisfaction was daunting to say the least, but if the princess wished for the world to return to its natural order, she needed to find a way to manage the threat…

The Salacious One awoke from his slumber with a strange feeling in his chest to greet him, along with the regular morning glory. It was a wistful sensation that he couldn’t quite determine the source of, but all the same it persisted through his first few waking hours. He had the odd sensation that last night’s dream had been rather eventful, perhaps even distressful, but he couldn’t place his finger on exactly why.

He could never remember any of his dreams, after all, but he knew that whatever happened in this one must’ve wound up his psyche.

He stood and paced through his morning jitters, waiting for the time when the first mares of the day would begin their trials with him. He wished there was a part of him that could still feel excited for it.

As much as he’d like to pretend that there were little or no residual effects from his dreams, or his memories, or the countless failed sexual experiences he’d been put through as of late, he knew that this wasn’t the case. Something in his brain was slowly coming unwound. A restraint, a defense, a sense of self? He wasn’t entirely sure what it was that was beginning to grow more absent, but he felt the missing space all the same, the nebulous and pervasive emptiness of his spirit.

No, that was a lie. He knew what was missing, and the part that should’ve worried him was just how much it didn’t worry him anymore. He’d all but accepted it as an eventuality at this point, even consciously he knew that it was only a matter of time until something irreversible occurred, something with permanence.

He nervously anticipated the first group of mares to arrive that day. He knew then that it wasn’t excitement that drove him to these actions, to scratching and tapping against his chair, to gripping down on the arm until he was white-knuckled, to humming and singing and talking to himself as if it was the most natural thing in the world…

It was simply restlessness: he was so eager to get to the disappointment, to the part where they failed to properly service him, where he was only made more frustrated and furious in the process, where he with each passing moment tested his patience versus his innate desire to take one of these fragile little creatures, pin them down, and pound them until his needs were finally sated. He knew that thoughts like that led down a dangerous path; perhaps he was willing to travel it.

It felt like an eternity before the first procession of eager mares arrived, though he recognised only one of them. It was always the case that at least one of the mares was a returning volunteer: this was apparently done to ensure that the new ones had some basis of security when dealing with him for the first time, though he failed to see how it made any real difference.

As if to illustrate his point, the unicorn who he’d shared these chambers with once a week prior looked to him and melted on the spot. From her priorly attractively confident and steely expression came half-lidded eyes and a bitten lip the moment their eyes connected for even a millisecond. His disinterest should’ve been apparent, but from what he understood of his own presence, every mare in the room right then felt as if his eyes rested solely on them.

“D-do you remember me, master?” she spoke, and while it was true that he did, he couldn’t recall anything specific from the top of his head. He had a good eye for mares, but not their personalities, or their names, or any of their idiosyncrasies. He remembered the ones who would snag him with their teeth, he supposed.

“Of course I do,” he responded, knowing that whatever he said she’d hear what she wanted to. “You were blowjob pony number four five six zero one two, am I right?” He chuckled dryly as he rattled off his bullshit. “Your mane had a distinct lemony scent which I adored, and you were a fan of classical art, were you not?”

Her eyes lit up like sapphires. “You do remember! I knew, I knew there was something special between us, I absolutely knew that it was right for me to return!” She was prancing back and forth on the spot now, almost doing a little victory dance, as all the while the other two mares in the room eyeballed him, seemingly unaware of the palpable one-sided tension exuding from the resident veteran fellator. “I hope that this time I can finally do it properly for you, master, that even you might take me, and—”

He drowned out her noise as best as he could: he’d heard it all before. It always just so happened that whatever seemingly random details he plucked from a hat just so happened to be precisely fitting to whichever mare he was talking to at the time. He read them without even meaning to, there was no mystery, and as such there was no allure. No difficulty either.

“I don’t like you,” he stated, as blunt as could possibly be. He yawned before her as she advanced on him, the other two mares in tow. “I find you to be tedious and dull, and there’s nothing you can do to make me feel otherwise.”

The mare blinked twice, seeming to seriously consider the notion for a moment, but then just as quickly, she dismissed the thought entirely. “I’ll make you like me…” she flicked her tail from side to side as she walked closer, staring up at him, moving to kiss at his wrist, palm, and eventually thighs from where he sat, her eyes ravenous and filled with want, soon panting. “I’ll give you happiness unlike you’ve ever known before, I’ll be the one that does it for you, you won’t be able to get enough of me, you’ll—” he placed a hand over her muzzle, silencing her, giving her a brief imperious stare before finally allowing her to resume, making it as clear as he could that he didn’t want to hear another word from her.

Things proceeded as was the new usual between him and the three mares, but here and there, he experimented with just how much he could say, what he could do. He told them he didn’t want them, they took it as a challenge, not an affront. He told them he wasn’t interested, they denied the possibility and endeavoured to make him interested. It truly was a pathetic situation to be in, and if he were the sadistic type he might’ve derived some pleasure from this level of control, but as he was?

He just wanted someone who wasn’t a fucking robot! Someone who didn’t sound and act like all the others, someone who liked him for who he was, whoever the fuck that might be, what was so good about him anyways?!

The mare from before was laid in front of him now, hind legs spread. They’d been at it for a while, and she was convinced that she was finally ready to take him. He rubbed his length against her lips for a while in contemplation, not entering her as she squirmed and gasped beneath him, her anticipation was lengthy and fitful.

And all the while as she waited, he pondered to himself what this mare that might’ve called him master now would’ve seen in him if it wasn’t for his magic, his charm, his inherent glamour. Him, so brooding and disinterested, so unwilling and unable to see the charm in any of the partners he met, if only for the fact that he knew their affection was so disingenuous. Even Celestia herself, would she have a speck of interest in him if it weren’t for who and what he was?

He cursed the one that’d made him this way, that had forced him to endure this for as long as he had. How ineffably stupid a condition he’d been left with, what wasted and worthless power he’d been granted.

He entered her, and she cried out in unbridled joy. There was no pain in her voice, there never was, despite his size. Just another effect of him being him, the discomfort definitely should’ve been there for both parties, what with how tight she was around him, but he didn’t hurt from it either.

The mare beneath him was every mare he’d ever fucked, really. She was the first and the most recent and every one in between, she was the loud ones, the quiet ones, the energetic ones and the tired, the inexperienced, the self-proclaimed experts—she was no different from the rest.

And he wanted her to be. So wanted her to be, for any of them to be…

Just… like me, hate me, tell me you don’t like something I do, tell me you aren’t interested in the things I’m saying, ask me something about me, make me feel happy, or sad, or excited, or relieved, or… He thrusted into her harder, grabbing her fur and pushing his hands through it in reverse, clumping it up and beginning to tug on loose strands as he fucked her. Only positive reactions, even to things that should’ve by all means been uncomfortable. Maybe she was masochistic, how could he know?

Part of him wondered if he was even capable of turning a mare off, or making her feel unsexy, or of not appearing inherently desirable. He continued to fuck the unicorn as the other two patiently waited their turns, if only because they both thought he was saving the best until last. Maybe they were right, he had no clue, but he honestly doubted either of them would be any different. It was just run of the mill from here.

Sometimes, he felt like the sword in the stone, sat here in solitude, waiting for someone to finally be able to pull him free. Sure, a mare managed to help him get there every now and again, but never with any degree of permanence. He honestly couldn’t remember his last good orgasm.

Maybe it was about time that he gave up on life in captivity. If he was scarcely managing to deal with it at this point, then the alternative was surely preferable?

Pushing the thought from his mind as he wrapped his hand around the mare’s mane, taking her more forcefully, feeling the ghost of a pleasant tingle down below, he tried to fully focus himself on his own satisfaction. Maybe, if he could just fool himself into the feeling of true enjoyment, he’d be able to finish, and push some of these negative thoughts out of his body for a while. It’d be a band-aid solution, sure, but anything was better than nothing at this point.

He tried to imagine her as Celestia at first, but while it felt exciting and reminiscent in theory, he couldn’t fool himself one bit: the size difference was massive, Celestia didn’t sound anything like this mare, Celestia didn’t feel like that on the inside…

She was squishier, more buttery. More vocal, too, she really cast aside her regal appearances in the throes of passion. And she called him by his name, at times…

The distracting thoughts were only reminding him what he was missing, rather than heightening his current experience in any way. Irritated and feeling even more pent up than before, he cast the unicorn aside with a few reassuring whispers and beckoned one of the other mares over. A short and wide-hipped earth pony with a soft pink coat took her place, one she’d never seen before. She had a pair of strawberries as a cutie mark, which were brighter than her coat.

“Looks like it’s your turn,” he muttered, gesturing her to take the unicorn’s place at the foot of his bed as she retreated to one of the couches in the corner, rubbing at herself with a hoof in an attempt to keep the surely fiery orgasm that was building in her previously alive. “Here, let’s see if you can do any better of a job.”

The earth pony scoffed at that. “Not even gonna ask me my name first, are ya?”

He was trapped in a stutter. He’d almost responded naturally, but there was something curious about that retort, namely that it wasn’t the straight obedience he’d become so used to. He put an arm behind his head and leaned back, studying her. “You want me to ask your name then, do you?”

“Only seems right and proper,” the mare nodded, peering at him with wide eyes that more than betrayed her interest.

Still, this was so strange. For the first time in a long while, he felt exposed, almost. He was fully aware that this mare was checking out his naked form, that she’d been watching as he had sex with a member of her party, and now she was… was she sizing him up? Judging him? The thought almost made him wanna throw a blanket over himself, it’d been a long time since even the concept of insecurity had reared its head. This was crazy.

Luckily, he caught himself before he started stammering. He wouldn’t let his confidence be shaken so easily, she probably just had a bit of a sturdier constitution for some reason or another. Maybe because she was an earth pony? These things always had explanations in some form or another. “I already know your name,” he answered with a chuckle. “It’s Sweet Serenade, correct?”

Sweet Serenade blinked twice before letting out a chuckle. “Sweetie Serenade, m’lord, but you were awfully close. How do you do that?” Her eyes were wide, and kept flicking down to his abdomen. “Suppose you can do a lot of things that the average pony can’t, huh?”

This was a lot to take in and process at once. He’d gotten her name wrong? His instincts were never, ever even the littlest bit wrong when it came to things like this. Was there a possibility that she was lying? No, mares didn’t lie to him, unless for some reason this one had been specially trained to do so? He knew he needed to gate his paranoia before it gave way to hysteria, but all the same, this was both too perturbing to ignore and too intriguing to pass up.

Donning a more serious expression, he regarded her with a flat stare, eager to not give away the game. “Suppose I can indeed. What can you do, I wonder?”

“What might you want me to do is a better question?” She blinked slowly, accentuating her long lashes, not making any move to come closer, it was almost as if the two of them were meeting for the first time.

What was he thinking? They were meeting for the first time, of course they were, but the manner with which she spoke, the angle of the conversation… this didn’t feel like the usual rote ritualistic forced obsession sex exchange ‘I’ll do anything for you master’ bullshit. This felt like an actual conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even something resembling one of these with someone other than the princess. Too long. Way too long.

“A lot of things, I imagine,” he finally answered her, his lips giving away a slight hint of levity. “Suppose some of them I can’t really accomplish all locked up in here, so we might have to skip a few steps and get straight to the physical, if that’s not too much of a hassle.”

Sweetie Serenade looked as if she was seriously contemplating what he’d just proposed. Seriously, who was this mare? No ‘yes sir’, no jumping or panting or begging at the chance to be shown a real measure of interest, rather than the fakery he usually produced for those all too willing, but instead, all she met him with was: “Just how far into the physical were you looking to get, mister? I’ll have you know I’m saving myself for marriage.”

He could scarcely believe his ears. “You’re what?”

She instantly burst out laughing. “Ah, look at your face!” she imitated wiping a tear from her eye between short breaths, still chuckling all the while. “I don’t imagine they let virgins down here, now, do they? Of course I’m joking.”

Of course she was… not particularly shocking when he took stock of everything that had led up to this point, but all the same it threw him for a loop. He couldn’t get a read on this mare whatsoever, he almost felt as if she wasn’t even a pony, what with how seemingly normal she was. How could that even be possible?

It couldn’t, or at least it shouldn’t have been… As much as he tried to fight it he couldn’t help but feel enthralled by this mare, her words and simple presence had that effect. Strangely, it felt as if their roles had been reversed, and she was the mysterious enrapturing goddess that he was powerless but to fall for and want more and more from.

But he knew it wasn’t like that, not really. This was just a bit of an unexpected circumstance, but he was still in control. Nothing had really changed. He reached out, touching Sweetie’s cheek, feeling her flinch back a little but quickly give in to the contact, nuzzling up against his hand for but a moment, her cheek soft and fuzzy as expected, though her expression still seemed less drunk and lustful than that of the rest who had been in this same situation.

He’d come to expect that, and was wondering if perhaps at this point his brain was simply telling him things that it wished to see were coming true, but he was sure of it! While she seemed to enjoy his touch, she made no move to advance on him, her eyes didn’t glaze over, her ears didn’t fold in submission, and she barely made a sound, as opposed to the very vocal renditions he was all too used to experiencing with other mares at the point of their first touch. She sighed contentedly as he rubbed her cheek and moved up to gently ruffle her mane, playing with one of her ears and noting a short intake of breath in direct response.

She liked that… And there it was, he was relying on his instincts to find her likes and dislikes. It was shocking to say the least, such a basic and normalised thing he was aware, but for him to sit there and have to figure out what this mare did and didn’t want, to not have it all just come to the forefront of his mind in an instant, it was so alien, and—

He almost faltered and flinched his hand away when he realised what this might denote.

Well, there were a few things it might mean: that he was losing his powers, that this mare was inexplicably immune to his innate magic, that he had perhaps gone full circle and finally lost it and this was some kind of fever dream? But more than anything and irrespective of any of these ponderences was one fact that was astoundingly clear.

If he wanted to get anywhere with Sweetie Serenade, and by god, he did, then he would have to stop relying on his powers and do things the old fashioned way.

The prospect scared him as much as it excited him. He pulled away, beckoning Sweetie closer with a hand. “I want to get to know you a little bit more. Care to humour me?”

Sweetie didn’t seem to consider it for as long this time, but there was still a pause. When she did move, it was slow and deliberate, almost teasing in nature. She clambered on the bed with a small hop and a slight sway of her hips, waltzing her way up to him and then finally standing before him, nearly eye-level with him in her standing position while he was only sat up on the bed. “You wanted me, well here I am, care to tell me what you wanna know? I can be pretty forthcomin’.”

He wanted to flash a grin so badly but just barely kept himself restrained as he reached out and stroke gently along her back, allowing his fingernails to softly graze the skin beneath her fur. “Just looking to see how you react to a couple of things, no big deal, honestly. You can relax...”

“Well, pardon my saying so, but it sounds as if you’re—” she was cut off by her own gasp as he drew his fingers back along her sides, catching her off-guard by using both hands this time, apparently enjoying the massage-like sensation of his hands against her very much.

“So, you like that, huh?” He knew she did, of course she did! No stallion was capable of recreating this sensation, not even with magic unless they were really talented. Even then, that sensation was ethereal and fake when recreated, not bound to touch or closeness or warmth. He offered all those things to her in his hands, and she oh-so-gladly received, shuddering her way through his ministrations and humming in approval.

“Ah… it’s not bad, I’ll admit it,” the pony grinned, her cheeks flushed. “There’s a griffon masseuse—ah—at my local spa that does a similar thing like you’re doing with your hands now…” She looked as if she was holding out somewhat, refusing to acknowledge how much fun she was having, but even still, the fact that she could do that?

It drove him crazy. He couldn’t let on though, he’d have to keep on playing her game. He’d have to make her be the one to break first, rather than admit that he found her in any way exceptional. She knew he did already, but admission? Admission was something different entirely, it was a concession of power. The kind of power he didn’t want to give up so readily.

It wasn’t that his personality was so dominant, it was that he felt this was a dream that was too good to be true! If he allowed himself to simply revel in it, the bubble could burst at any moment. He had to keep cautious and guarded, he had to test her some more, he had to—

“How about me? Can I give you a massage, huh, mister?” Sweetie Serenade shrugged her withers, tilting her head a little as she watched his expression turn to what he imagined to be a rather visible blush. “I mean, I’m not the best, but I took a course for fun when I was in college and I think maybe I could do something you’d enjoy?”

To think she was so modest in her speech and yet so bold all the same, it was ludicrous. He was a god by her standards, or so he was so often told, and she paid it seemingly no mind. As much as it scared him, a part of him was finding it easier and easier to admit that he did in fact love it with each passing second.

“I suppose you could make an attempt. I’d allow that.” For all that he tried to remain level-headed and aloof, he knew that he’d already given himself away. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, that his disinterest had turned from a genuine factor to a pure affectation that he struggled to cling to… when he felt the pony’s hooves against him, she didn’t gasp, or twitch, or declare him to be her master or anything of the sort.

She simply smiled, inhaled, and began to rub at his exposed body, little bit by little bit.

First it was his shoulders, where she applied light pressure and then eventually pressed down with a little more force, her hind legs between his, balancing herself against him as she continued to rub her way down and across. He could almost feel her chest fluff tickling his nose, could smell her scent, and for the technically mediocre quality of the massage as she progressed to his collar, shifting her weight more to hind legs and balancing herself as she went, her sweet little hums and tangy smell intrigued him, ensnared him in her aura, made him want nothing but to keep this moment going...

Author's Note

Apologies for the delay between chapters. I've had a lot of personal things going on at the moment and have been in a bit of a bind...

If you could read this latest blog I would really, immensely appreciate it. It explains a lot.

Happy reading: I appreciate you guys so much.