Celestia's Magic Wands: Machine/Guard/Sister

One of her fantasies involved dominating and humiliating a palace guard. She didn't know why she liked this one so much; it was a little harsh as princess fantasies went, but it certainly relieved a lot of pent-up frustration. Maybe the demands of the court, as well as the demands made by her cock, were becoming too stressful.

In her erotic dream she would make a surprise visit to the barracks of the palace guard. She would order all the tall, well-built soldiers (for she liked her men that way) to stand at attention as she inspected each one. She had perfected a particular stride for such occasions; each step regal and precise, but also one that caused her princess tits to jiggle and her ass to swing ever so slightly. While she would pretend to inspect their uniforms and bunks, she would instead be scouting for large bulges which indicated men fit to service her royally.

When she found her victim, she would berate him about some minor imperfection, shaming him in front of his peers. Declaring him unfit for duty, she would order him to perform some degrading penance, perhaps changing the royal chamber pots, which would require him to accompany her to the royal bedchamber. Once there, he would be instructed to remove his clothes. The dumbstruck guard would then slowly disrobe in obedience to his princess. While he stood at attention, silent and immobile, she would take his member in the palm of her hand and massage it until the first beads of nervous sweat appeared.

Next, she would allow her robe to slip seductively off her shoulders, exposing her full, rounded breasts. She would hold tightly to the sash; the fantasy would be ruined if too much was revealed too soon.

Kneeling before the guard, she would lift her tits seductively and wrap them around his cock. He would sigh heavily, and she would drag them slowly up and down its length. In no time her sex slave would be sporting a glorious erection. She would continue to pump him slowly until his balls came on line and her cleavage was slathered with a film of slimy pre-ejaculate. Once fully lubricated, she would increase the speed, encouraging his erroneous belief that this Princess of Equestria wanted him to orgasm.

Her original command that he remain silent and immobile had not been rescinded. If she caught him squirming or trying to speak she would release his engorged member and slap it hard with her open hand. Fully engorged and already sensitized by the royal titfuck, the strike would feel like a hundred wasp stings. He would wince and reel back in pain, failing to follow her command to remain at attention. He would eventually stagger back to his starting position, where the princess would again bury him in her ample cleavage and continue pumping him.

She would lean into him, crushing her breasts against his crotch, working faster and faster until his tightening scrotum signaled he was ready to burst. At that moment, instead of allowing the release his body was screaming for, she would release his prick and stand up.

The unexpected denial of his orgasm would cause his body to convulse. Wracked with pain, he would groan and look pleadingly at his tormentor, whose only response would be a wicked, sadistic smile. Without thinking his hand would be drawn to his member in response to his urgent need. Immediately she would slap his hand away.

"Did I give you permission to cum, soldier?" she would scold angrily. He would force himself to attention, following the lead of his inflamed, throbbing manhood. A single rivulet of cum would escape his erection, dripping onto the floor in disobedience to the princesses command.

She would order him to kneel before her. She would speak then to him in the commanding voice of authority she reserved when issuing royal decrees.

"In this room you have no family, no rank or name. In this room you are my property, and you exist only to serve me. You will obey every command I give you and keep doing it until I order you to stop. Do you understand?"

Only when he acknowledged her complete authority over him would she untie her robe and let it fall to the floor leaving him face-to-face with her large, erect phallus.

She would pause and allow him to study it with a mixture of surprise, fear, and maybe even disgust. He would stare in disbelief at all nine inches of his royal highness' penis towering above him. A single drop of clear fluid formed at the top of the enlarged glans. The color would drain from his face as he realized the inevitability of what lay ahead.

She savored this moment of the cruel fantasy.

Satisfied he was ready to be dominated, she would take her cock and point it at his face.

"Your princess orders you to open your mouth."

Even though he knew it was coming, his eyes would still grow wide with shock.

"Princess," he would stammer. "I'm not.., I mean I'm  married"

She cut him off.  "Did I order you to speak?"

"No, your highness, but..."

"If you fail to please me, or refuse any of my commands, I will have you and your family banished from Canterlot forever. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your highness."

He closed his eyes and dutifully parted his full, moist lips. She reached out and pulled him close, burying herself in the confines of his soft, warm mouth. She held him for just a moment, savoring the complete possession of the man's body and spirit.

Sometimes just the image of a palace guard, the pinnacle of masculine power, being forced to swallow her royal staff would be enough to push her over the edge. The machine would change pitch as her fluids, and her carefully crafted fantasy, prematurely emptied into the glass jar.

But if she was in control of herself she would continue her subjugation of the man. She would fuck his mouth, sometimes gently, sometimes with vigor. If he started to gag she would pause for a moment, allowing him to regain his composure. She reminded herself that the guards were to be used, not abused, for her sexual pleasure.

When the moment of release was upon her, she would firmly pin the guard's head against her inner thigh. As obedient as these guards claimed to be, they would always flinch or try to pull away when the first couple squirts landed on their tongues.

She could remember the first time a man came in her mouth; it was bitter and slimy and she had almost spit it out. But that first time with the stable boy was different, because she had wanted to do it. Her younger sister had bragged about performing the same act on the same stable boy, in the same disused corner of the barn. Not wanting to be outdone by her sibling she had knelt in front of the boy and clumsily rolled him around in her mouth until he came.

But this fantasy was not youthful experimentation.

It was oral rape.

Only after they had resigned themselves to their fate and stopped struggling would she loosen her grip, reorienting their faces so she could continue ejaculating in a more comfortable position. When all her lust had been emptied into her servant, she would step back. Sometimes at this point the sound of the milking machine, pumping furiously to keep pace with the orgasm of the real Celestia in the real world, would intrude into the fantasy.

This time, the guard would remember his place, holding his mouth open for her inspection. She would see his tongue swimming in a puddle of thick, white cum. He would sometimes cough or make gagging noises as he fought to keep his airway clear of royal goo.

As her final act of degradation she would place her hand under his chin and lift. He would resist, as they all did, but she would tighten her grip as a reminder of her absolute authority. Then she would tilt the man's face upward until his eyes were looking directly into hers.

"Now swallow me," she would command.

And the guard, humiliated and broken, would obey. Overriding every reflex he would open his throat and allow her royal essence to slide into his gullet. For added humiliation sometimes she would demand he open his mouth again so she could verify his loyalty.

When she was done with him the traumatized soldier would dress in silence. The strong ones would dress quickly, their stoic faces trying to hide the total destruction of their dignity and masculinity. The weaker ones would sob uncontrollably in shame and self-loathing, struggling to find their clothing through a waterfall of decidedly un-masculine tears. On the way out she would stop him and plant a kiss on his cheek. She swore him to secrecy, although it was hardly necessary; who would ever believe a story about a princess of Equestria who was hung like a stallion and forced palace guards to perform oral sex on her and then swallow her royal cum?