A Night in Shining's Armor
Princess Cadenza didn't understand her husband's fetish. At his request she had worn the gaudy nylon leotards, learned a few basic techniques, and had her body compressed and contorted into a myriad of painful positions--submission holds, he called them. Shining Armor easily won every match, even when he held back. And afterwards Cadence habitually forced a smile and pretended she had enjoyed herself, despite the aches and pains racking her delicate frame.
After giving it her best effort, Cadence retired from the sport of fetish wrestling with a record of 0 wins, 13 losses, with 7 losses by way of rear naked choke.
And that was the end of that.
But Shining, being a hot-blooded stallion and a true warrior at heart, was too enamored by this form of combat to relinquish it so easily. He decided to look elsewhere for a suitable opponent, a task that proved difficult right from the start.
His search began in the ranks of the Royal Guard, where he found many lady soldiers eager to roll and tumble and grab at and sweat with their handsome captain... but none who were interested in wrestling. The stallions, he discovered some time later, were much more agreeable. And during the first two months of tumbling with them on the mat, Shining learned a few startling truths about his own sexuality.
He was not gay. He had been attracted to mares his entire life. He married the most beautiful mare in Equestria. He was. Not. Gay.
And yet... there was something exhilarating about throttling another stallion with a choke hold, or stretching his neck or spine until he bleated in submission. Stallions tended to fight harder, to want it more, and their bloated egos made dominating them especially satisfying.
During those perplexing yet liberating months of sexual discovery, one stallion in particular caught Shining's eye: a young, pretty, coltish pegasus named Flash Sentry. He and Flash became fast friends, and before long, Shining found himself enjoying private matches with Flash and no one else.
Flash was different from the other male guards in both appearance and demeanor. His humble stature, bronze coat, and two-toned sapphire hair set him apart from the other guards with their imposing builds, white coats, and sleek, electric-blue manes. His cerulean eyes were markedly feminine, accented by preened lashes that fluttered like butterfly wings.
And at this moment, here in the privacy of the empty palace gymnasium, he looked stunning in his high cut singlet and wrestling shoes, both the same sapphire color as his mane. Shining watched the younger stallion warm up at the opposite end of the fold-out vinyl mat, tracing the contour of his muscles with intrigued eyes.
He was envious of Flash's outfit, the shoes especially. You could only find proper wrestling gear at specialty shops in Las Pegasus--the sport's birthplace and the only city where it was popular--and Shining didn't have time to fly out to the west coast on a whim. He had too many responsibilities in Canterlot, as well as the Crystal Empire. And Cadence would murder him if she found out he was sneaking around Las Pegasus in search of cute spandex getups and matching shoes.
"Something funny?" said Flash, noticing the pen-stroke smirk on Shining's face.
"I was just thinking of my wife."
Flash looked toward the door. "Does she...?"
"What do you think?"
"Good. That means I have you all to myself." Flash ambled closer, lashes fluttering in that girlish way of his. "Come on, we don't have much time tonight."
"You got somewhere to be in the morning?"
"Yeah. I'm flying out to the motherland."
Shining raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Las Pegasus," Flash clarified. He placed a longing hoof on Shining's shoulder. "Me and a few friends are gonna check out this new fight club. You should come along. It'll be fun." He gave the shoulder a prodding stroke for good measure.
"Sounds cool," Shining said casually. "I'll have to think about it, though. Luna's birthday is coming up, and Cadence wants me to help organize the party. Everything has to be just so or she freaks out and I end up sleeping on the couch."
"Luna's birthday is in four days. The trip will only take three, I swear."
"Still... Cadence would never let me run off to Las Pegasus."
"Hm. Mares," said Flash.
Shining laughed and jabbed him in the foreleg. "And what does a runt like you know about mares?"
"Oh, I know about mares," said Flash, no trace of the usual femininity in his sing-song voice. For a moment he sounded like any of the other brawny meat-heads that made up the Royal Guard.
Shining chuckled inwardly as he took off his gi and tossed it aside. He would have been completely naked if not for the nylon shorts clinging to his sculpted rear, doing their level best to contain the masculine swell between his hinds.
"Oh," said Flash. "Going topless this time, huh?" He rose to his hinds and tugged down his singlet straps, slowly, making a show of it. Clusters of toned muscles flexed under his cotton-soft fur and his wings flared out, a stronger indication of his arousal than the half-engorged swell between his slim yet solid looking thighs.
"I'm thinking no wings tonight," said Shining, eyes glued to those sexy hind legs. "The whole flying pegasus kung-fu thing was a bit much for me last time. What do you say? Cut me a break?"
Flash let out a snorting huff. "Pins?" he asked.
"You know I hate pins."
"You know I like flying."
Shining scratched the back of his head, mulling it over. "Fair enough. Not like you could ever pin me, anyway."
"Is that a challenge? Let's have a pins-only match then, if you're so confident."
And there it was: Flash's too-sexy male bravado rearing its dense head, looking for a fight.
"And deny myself the chance to choke you out? Again. How many times has it been now? Four? Five?"
Flashed huffed again, his pretty eyes narrowing. "What about strikes?"
"Always." Shining flashed his pen-stroke smirk. "You ready?" Flash answered with a nod and the two fighters began circling each other, their hooves making hushed noises on the mat.
Shining ignored the prerequisite stir of arousal between his thighs and focused on his opponent's movements. He expected a fast start from the quicker, craftier fighter, but Flash made him wait, letting the tension grow until it filled every corner of the palace gymnasium.
Flash padded across the mat with a buoyancy typical of pegasi, his movements sly, titillating. Watching him, Shining fell into a semi-trance, beguiled by the girlish curve of Flash's spandex-clad flank. His waist was almost petite, his butt round and firm, and if Shining squinted and focused only on Flash's lower body, as he did now, and if he tilted his head slightly to the left, or maybe it was the right, he could swear Flash looked exactly like a mare, specifically like this one he'd dated in high school, or maybe like one of his sister's friends, one of the pegasi, yes, the shy one with the long pink--
Something lightning-fast and made of steel clubbed Shining's muzzle, derailing his train of distracted thoughts. He staggered backwards, one eye closed, and out of the other he glimpsed a bronze blur gliding off to his left.
Bouncing to his hinds, he tucked his chin and raised both fores. While he shielded his face, the metal thing swung low and slammed into his side. A hot gust buffeted his muzzle--a breath, he rationalized through the dizziness muddling his senses--and then a second blow hammered him in the same spot, making him stumble backwards.
"Aww, you're so cute when you leave yourself wide open, Shine."
Shining blinked away the haze behind his eyes. He realized at last that the bronze blur was only Flash, and that the metal thing must have been a well thrown forehoof. He glanced down at his torso, wincing. Those body blows had hurt. Really hurt.
He dropped to three legs, keeping his right elbow bent and his forehoof cocked and ready to throw. His pulse throbbed between his ears, the sudden adrenaline rush begging him to charge in and trade punches with Flash. But the smaller, more agile fighter was too quick for such a reckless approach.
No, what Shining needed now was patience. The openings would reveal themselves soon enough. They always did.
Flash poked his tongue out at Shining, earning a good-natured grin from the veteran fighter. He may have looked, walked, and sometimes acted like a mare, but Flash was all masculine bravado in a fight. His shoes bounced up and down on the mat, showing off his mobility, and his shoulders and head continuously bobbed, weaved, ducked down, as if dodging a dozen invisible punches.
He flicked out three jabs in rapid succession, striking nothing, then followed with a thunderbolt right hook that punched a hole in the empty air. Then, smirking, he extended his lead forehoof and gestured for Shining to come closer, daring him to make the next move.
Shining closed at a measured pace--refusing to rush in and play Flash's game--then bounced to his hinds and shot a jab that thudded harmlessly against the private's guard. A cross came behind the jab--a grazing blow that Flash skillfully rolled off his shoulder--but the follow up hook caught him flush in the midsection. He flinched, looking more surprised than hurt, and quickly shuffled back and to Shining's right, flicking jabs as he turned his opponent.
Shining followed, forelegs raised to block the peppering jabs. He struggled to keep the fight in close, where he--being the larger, harder-punching fighter--had the advantage over his more mobile opponent.
But just as he started to time Flash's rhythm, a lucky one-two snuck between his guard and clubbed his nose and snapped his head back. Spots flickered behind his vision, muddling the follow up left hook now racing toward his chin like a bronze fastball.
And then he was toppling over, hinds wilting like parched flower stems. He crashed down on his back with an echoing thump. As he lay stunned and helpless, a voice screamed from the back of his foggy head, demanding that he get up.
He blinked away the fog, gazing up just in time to catch a glimpse of the bronze elbow falling toward his muzzle in a smooth downward arc. The rest of Flash was falling with it, or perhaps behind it; the sylphlike frame seemed miles away as Shining focused on the menacing point of that elbow. He turned away at the last moment and let his cheek absorb the blow, wincing as his teeth rattled in his skull.
The private thudded down on his chest at the same time the elbow connected, but Shining hardly felt it. He didn't realize he'd been mounted until Flash's butt hopped off his torso, cleared his shoulders and plopped down on his throat. Two toned thighs straddled his neck, and a masculine bulge clad in spandex pressed against his chin.
Shining squirmed as Flash cupped the back of his head and buried his face under the bulge. It pulsed against Shining's muzzle, hot and hard behind the layer of gauzy fabric. Two toned thighs clenched tight around his temples. He tried to uproot the private, but Flash grabbed his forehooves and pinned them above his head.
"Thought you said I'd never pin you?" Flash wiggled his butt, making himself more comfortable on his new seat. His tail traced lazy circles on Shining's chest, then ventured lower, stroking the swell trapped beneath tight black nylon.
He started counting.
"One... two... three..."
He put long pauses between each number, peering down at his opponent with devilish, half-lidded eyes. His cock ground against Shining's face, and the musky tang of his crotch clogged the captain's nostrils.
"Four... five... six..."
The grinding grew harder, rougher, and the pauses between each number lengthened.
Shining grunted, blasting the cock in his face with warm breaths that made Flash's thighs shudder. A feminine moan disrupted the count, and, pretending he'd lost his place, Flash started over at one.
The voice at the back of Shining's head hollered again, urging him to break the pin. He knew the little nagging cadence well; it was the distinct whine of his bruised ego.
With his cock shuddering under Flash's tail-strokes, he pushed off both heels and bucked his hips toward the ceiling. His back leapt off the mat as he bridged, and his shoulders followed, jolting Flash forward and nearly tearing him from his mount. Then, riding the momentum, Shining drove off his right heel, swiveled his waist and rolled onto his side, taking Flash with him.
The instant Flash hit the mat his thighs clamped around Shining's neck. He tried to grab hold of the captain's mane, but Shining had already predicted the move, was already popping his head free, already scrambling away, already bouncing back to all fours--and Flash, his breath coming in ragged huffs, was already doing the same.
Shining snorted.
Flash neighed.
They charged, clashed, their heads knocking together like angry bulls. Flash took the worst of the hit, but he didn't fall, didn't even buckle. He stepped off to Shining's right, giving an angle before spinning around and launching a surprise back kick. Shining lifted his foreleg in time to block, but the sheer force of the impact sent him reeling just the same.
Finding his balance, Shining rose to his hinds, staggered his stance, raised his fores. He timed Flash's frustrated rush, halting an attempted takedown with a headlock and a textbook sprawl. Dropping to his haunches forced Flash to do the same, and, breaking the headlock, he quickly scrambled onto the private's back.
Huffing and puffing now, Flash curled up like a turtle retreating into its shell. He tucked his chin into his chest, protecting his neck from any choke attempts, but failed to stop Shining's burly hinds from circling around his middle, the stifles slipping in under his. The hinds went taut and tight, squeezing a whine from Flash--a deliciously embarrassing sound that made Shining's cock twitch.
With his hooks sunk in, he postured up and launched a looping punch that cuffed Flash on the temple, dizzying him. Then a sneaky foreleg slipped under the dazed fighter's chin, and his throat twitched as the crook of Shining's elbow folded around his neck. The larger fighter muscled the smaller onto his side and flexed all four his legs, the fores working over Flash's neck, the hinds crushing the trapped fighter's middle.
He toyed with Flash, flexing his muscles to their maximum, then relaxing, then flexing again. Every clench brought a whimper and a catching of breath, every release a violent fit of coughs.
"Mmmmm..." Shining growled, finally settling into a steady squeeze. He gripped his bicep with one knee, placing the other atop Flash's head, and his hips wiggled as he adjusted his scissor hold. "Tap... out..." A rumbling breath separated the two words, his chest heaving against Flash's back, his cock throbbing and trickling drops of pre-cum.
Flash shut his eyes. "Fu... fuck you..." The words barely managed the journey from voice box to lips, oxygen-starved but defiant.
Shining loved it. That stubbornness. That masculine bravado. It sweetened the thrill of his impending victory, the cherry atop the delicious prize that was Flash Sentry.
He released his sleeper hold--allowing Flash a moment's breath--then tucked the private's head under his leg and clamped his hooves together. His spine arched and his limbs flexed all the harder, cranking and squeezing his victim at the same time.
Flash's mouth hung ajar in a silent and desperate bid for air. His hinds kicked while his fores grabbed at Shining's shoulders, then his elbows, then his hips and thighs.
He shoved here, pushed there. His eyes watered. His wings twitched. He blinked. Wriggled. Panted.
Biting his bottom lip, Shining drove his hips into the small of Flash's back. His cock throbbed so hard it hurt. "Tap," he breathed, converting the last of his energy into several more seconds of determined crushing power.
Finally, Flash slapped a hoof against Shining's flank. The captain held him a bit longer, squeezed him and cranked him a little harder, putting the girlish runt of a soldier in his place. He waited for a second tap out, a third, then released the beaten fighter and let him sprawl out on his chest.
They stayed that way for a long time, basking in the afterglow of their intimate contest.
"Damn it," Flash muttered, having found enough air to form words. He rolled over, laying chest-to-chest with Shining. "Let's go again," he said, tempting the captain with a flutter of those dainty lashes.
"I thought you had to be somewhere tomorrow morning."
"I do, but we've got enough time for one more."
Shining crossed his forelegs behind his head, a slow, languid gesture. "Nah, we better call it a night. I need to get out of here. Cadence is sick of me sneaking into bed late and waking her up."
"Mares," said Flash.
"Yeah. Mares." Shining sat up on his elbows, prompting Flash to draw back. "Goodnight, Flash. Be sure to pin a few pretty fillies for me while you're in Las Pegasus."
Flash looked away for a moment. "All right. Goodnight, Shine." Without thinking, he bent forward and pecked Shining on the cheek, his lips grazing the captain's skin for the very first time.
Both stallions froze.
"Oh, crap. I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" Flash stammered. "I swear I didn't mean to--"
Shining threw his forelegs behind Flash's head and pulled him into a rough kiss. He rolled Flash onto his back, pushing tiny moans into his open mouth as their laps ground together in a forceful back-and-forth motion. Nylon rubbed against nylon, and their sloppy kisses sent up a chorus of wet smacks and squelches.
Shining took the private's tongue in his mouth. A forehoof glided down his lower back and slipped under the hem of his shorts, fondling his dock. Another grabbed at the glossy fabric and tugged it down, freeing Shining's engorged ash-black cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
A voice screamed from the corner of Shining's mind, begging him to stop before he did something stupid. Ignoring it, he sparked his horn and used a wisp of magic to yank Flash's singlet down to his stifles. With some awkward wiggling, both stallions managed to worm out of their clothing.
Their hips bucked, cocks rubbing together like sticks meant to start a fire. Shining moaned into Flash's mouth one last time, then broke the kiss and bit down on his neck, hard, intent on leaving a mark. He groped blindly for the cock stroking his own, then gave a start when he found it, surprised by how big it felt nestled in the bend of his knee.
The first pumps coaxed an effeminate moan from Flash. He gripped Shining's shoulder with one knee and folded the other around the ash-black cock, pumping it with short, spastic strokes. His hips rocking, he looked down his own chest and watched his cock piston up and down, up and down, up and down in Shining's grip.
"Ahhh... Ahhhh... Shine..."
Shining released Flash's neck. "You like that?"
"Don't stop..." Flash panted. "Right there... Don't..."
Flash squeezed Shining's cock in a sudden, painful vice-grip. His hips convulsed from the force of his orgasm, and hot, sticky seed roped from his member, soaking Shining's stomach and pelvis.
The sensation of being coated in spunk--the warmth and the musky smell and the viscous texture--pushed Shining over the edge. He scooted further up Flash's middle, gave himself three more short strokes and came on his impromptu lover's chest.
"Ohhh fuck..." Aftershocks crashed up and down his member, keeping it twitching long after the last drop of spunk spilled out and seeped into Flash's fur.
"Oh, fuck," he said again, looking down at the mess he'd made—a mess that not only marred Flash's chest fur, but Shining's entire life. He searched his one-night lover's soft eyes for some semblance of solace, but found only guilt. Only shame.
"That was stupid. I shouldn't have done that." Flash shut his eyes and banged the back of his head against the mat.
"Yeah..." was the best Shining could manage.
"Crap, I'm an idiot. This is my fault, okay? I kissed you first. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't--"
"It's okay." Shining wiped his mouth, meaning to rid himself of Flash's flavor. "Look, I... I need to get out of here."
His voice quivered the way his body had when Flash kissed him. He climbed off the mortified pegasus, fetched his discarded gi and used it to clean himself as best he could. When he finished, he tossed the soiled thing at Flash.
"Clean yourself up," and then he started toward the door.
"Hey, wait up," said Flash. He gave his chest a quick wipe, then hurried over and grabbed Shining by the shoulder. "Does this mean... you won't go to Las Pegasus with me?"
"Are you serious?" Shining spun around, glaring. He wanted to hit Flash for being so stupid. He wanted to...
"Look, it won't be like that," Flash insisted. "I mean, I don't know what that was back there... but it won't be like that."
A heavy sigh. "You know I can't."
"I know you want to."
The words hung in midair--five little truths dangling from invisible strings.
"Good night, Flash." Shining turned his back and resumed trudging away.
"Shine?"
An over the shoulder glance. "Yeah?"
"I won't tell anypony. I promise."
"Me neither."
Flash slunk off without another word, tail tucked between his legs like a hurt puppy. Shining watched him go in silence. Then he collected his clothing and folded up the mat.
*********
Four Days Later...
"Come on, Shining. What in the world is taking you so long?" Cadence stood in the hallway outside of their bedroom, her forehoof tapping impatiently. "If you make me late for my aunt's birthday party I swear you're sleeping on the--"
Shining appeared in the doorway and silenced Cadence with a kiss. "I was just looking for my favorite tie, sweetie. You can't rush this much perfection," he laughed, straightening his silk bowtie with raised eyebrows. A debonair smile diffused his wife's annoyance, and, foreleg in foreleg, they started toward the chariot awaiting them outside.
"You know, if you bothered to organize that closet of yours, you wouldn't misplace your ties so often."
Mares... He heard the thought in Flash's voice.
Shining drew his head back sharply, feigning offense. "Nothing in my closet is misplaced. It's controlled chaos. I know exactly where everything is."
Cadence rolled her eyes at the claim, but it was a true statement. It was a walk-in closet, half the size of his wife's (Cadence had insisted they each have their own), and Shining really did know exactly where everything was.
Formal clothing hung from a wheeled rack he kept at the back of the room-like closet. Workout apparel lay heaped in a corner. Drawers hung open, shirts and ties hanging over their lips like parched tongues.
And among the comfortable dissonance in Shining's closet, lost within a pile of discarded footwear, seemingly forgotten, sat a pair electric-blue wrestling shoes. He'd picked them out because they were the same color as his mane. Just like Flash's pair.
"Something wrong, sweetie?"
Hearing his wife's voice shook him from his thoughtful stupor. "No. It's nothing."
He would tell her about Flash eventually. But not tonight. Tonight was Luna's birthday and everything in Cadence's world was just so.
