Phantoms

“Meta Tease”
[\ Play Phantom ‘Peep’ Recording L-775-H-074: Luna F/Solo]

Rigel sniffed, catching the distinct odour of shame, fatigue and hooker-spit… okay, not so much the last one, but the other two were pretty prominent, even though Foxtrot-13 was half a nation away connected only by radio-waves.

Slumped up against a cold, bare stone wall covered in his invisibility cloak, Rigel quietly munched on some trail mix as he struck up casual conversation.

“So, Kidd…”

Jared’s reply from the phantom headquarters control room was immediate. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Unfortunately for Jared, Rigel did.

“A thistle, eh?” Rigel persisted.

“I was in a hurry to get out there,” Jared explained. “… I would have expected you to make a comment about Fluttershy.”

“Well, if you’re gonna bring it up…”

Jared groaned. Foxtrot-12 smiled, not quite done with the new guy yet. He really wished he could have been in Ponyville to see it for himself. Not for all the gross reasons, obviously. But this story of how Jared was able to keep his cool and keep human existence in Equestria a secret by fabricating a story about being a ‘Ghillie Dhu’ before ploughing Fluttershy into a drooling stupor? That’s the epic kind of shit you need to see to believe!

Huddled under his invisibility cloak pulled over him like he was suspending a tarp to camp out under, Rigel rustled through his packed lunch as he brought the rest of foxtrot team into conversation over the radio. “So what are we talking here, guys? Bit of heavy petting or full on penetration?”

“The full works.” Crispy answered, probably sitting next to Jared in the phantom operations control centre. “One minute she’s got his dick down her throat, I blink and I’m seeing Kidd’s gone balls deep in her, bareback pony-style.”

In the background Rigel could hear Jared give an aggravated groan. “How are you gonna sleep at night?” Rigel chuckled.

Jared sighed deeply into the comms. “Should be easy enough… Fluttershy is my favourite pony after all.” He paused allowing that to sink in before adding another nuke to that statement. “After Twilight Sparkle of course.”

Rigel was caught between a cough, scoff and chuckle. For those who are curious, it sounded like he was choking. “Whoa, hold on a sec, Kidd. Are you a brony?”

“Uhh… yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I can’t even talk to you right now,” Rigel said with a slow shake of his head.

He heard Foxy-ac snort before he leaned into the control centre microphone to say, “three words, Twelve. Self. Insert. Clopfics.”

“Point taken. Shutting up now.”

Rigel crunched softly on the last of the hazelnuts and pecans out of his phantom-standard-issue trail mix. Most of the zip-lock bag was just full of disgusting leftover raisins and a few chocolate chips he was saving for last. He looked down at the bag in disgust realising the dim torchlight of his headlamp was fading and it was going to be an absolute pain in the ass to distinguish gag-inducing raisins and beautiful chocolate.

Sighing he zipped up the bag and tucked it into a pocket before putting away his half-useless torch. The food would keep ‘till morning when he needed a snack during his long walk back to HQ.

Rigel was – metaphorically speaking of course – once again balls deep in Canterlot again. Last time was only a few days ago when he ran a peep op on Celestia during the heights of her heat. The princess was still in heat of course, but it seemed she wasn’t the only one. And so his superiors had sent Rigel back into the belly of the beast so to speak, back to gather some more sexy snaps of a princess.

Hidden under his invisibility cloak, Rigel sat against the cold wall on the floor of a storage room. Surrounding him were shelves stacked with multi-coloured cleaning potions, clusters of mops, piles of rags and other janitorial utensils. He checked his watch and figured the night guard shift was in full swing. It was close to midnight and it was the rest of foxtrot team’s turn to torture Rigel and keep him awake. Whereas they got to go to their soft warm bunks in a little while, Rigel would be up for the next couple of hours to take images of Princess Luna’s bedroom shenanigans and then make the long, stealthy and gruelling extraction trip back to phantom HQ in the Everfree Forest.

Rigel didn’t mind sleuthing around at nighttime. He only grew worried when it was the night he was actually spying on.

Crispy suddenly vocalised his fears. “You know, I was thinking. If Celly caught you spying on her while she clopped like there was no tomorrow; she might show restraint and capture you alive at least. But if Loony-Lulu caught you; you’d best make peace with your dear and fluffy lord. That’ bitch’d straight up vaporise your ass.”

“Just his ass?” Tex asked.

“Depends on her skill with the ass-seeking magic missile.”

Rigel shook his head. “Lovin’ the encouragement, guys. Thanks.”

At the same time it was completely true. Princess Luna was the more hot-headed of the regal sisters. Yeah that meant the footage Rigel got of her private escapades were all the more steamy. But he also had to be doubly careful. As seen with Jared and Fluttershy, if compromised by any other pony there was at least a chance the phantom in question would be able to bullshit his way out of a corner.

If a phantom was cornered by Luna – in all likelihood he and the corner would be vaporised.

“Would you like me to calculate your odds of success?” Jared suddenly asked.

Rigel huffed. “If it’s all the same to you, dude, I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Foxtrot-12 checked his watch again. Coming up on eleven-twenty. Nearly time to move. As he was standing and straightening out his cloak, making sure all his extremities were covered and his cam-rifle was secured by his side, Rigel moved to the very back of the store.

As he did, Foxtrot-Actual’s voice returned on the comms. “Foxtrot-twelve, Phantom-actual just gave me the nod. You are declared hot.”

Rigel gave a nod. “Message received, Foxy-ac. Foxtrot-twelve is moving... over... I think. Or was it ‘out?’ I get confused.”

On the other side of the line he could hear his teammates and friends chuckle. “Stay safe, brother. Foxtrot-actual, out.”

Alone and surrounded by ponies for miles in every direction, the lone human clambered up a set of shelves with a sigh, doing his best not the shake and rattle supplies. At the top he reached out and touched one of the slate ceiling tiles, lifting it out of the dummy grout and sliding it aside. With a heave he pulled himself into the secret cavity in the ceiling of the janitor’s closet and replaced the loose tile.

Out of sight from any prying pony eyes, Rigel rolled his invisibility cloak into his pack and crawled on his stomach through a set of intertwining secret tunnels running throughout the palace guided by a map loaded onto his phone and using the feint glow of the screen as makeshift torchlight. Centuries ago when the regal princesses were but adorable wee things, their parents commissioned the Canterlot Palace and had the builders make these narrow tunnels that filled the ceiling cavities like a secret honeycomb. The idea was that guards would hide in them and keep an eye on the princesses when they grew into teenagers, just in case they were visited by boys.

Long forgotten over time, even by the princesses whose virginity the tunnels were designed to protect, the cavities were the perfect way for Foxtrot-12 to sneak about the palace. Unfortunately they didn’t always go into areas Rigel wanted or needed to go, and the centuries of neglect formed dust bunnies you wouldn’t believe; but tonight they served their purpose.

He reached a junction and followed the path that took him straight up into the heavens.

It was a dizzying crawl up a vertical duct with pony-hoofed sized treads cut into the cold stone, then a few metres across before the phantom found himself in the ceiling cavity of Princess Luna’s private tower. Being the more reclusive of the two princesses, her bedroom was in the highest tower secluded from the rest of the palace.

Luna’s room had a flat ceiling, as opposed to the conical shaped roof of the tower which meant Rigel had plenty of space to manoeuvre up there. He just moved carefully, shifted his weight slowly and quietly so the princess wouldn’t suspect rats in the attic. Then slowly, millimetre-by-millimetre he lifted up one of the loose tiles in the middle of the ceiling.

His cam-rifle’s barrel held the tile open and he sighted thought he view-finder, angling the lens so he was looking down at Luna’s bed. It was a round model, quite like Celestia’s decorated with star patterns on the sheets.

The bedroom door swung open and in trotted the princess herself. Being Celestia’s little sister, the alicorn was distinctly shorter than the taller princess of the sun. But Luna still had the graceful, sexy build of an alicorn princess.

Rigel double took on the thought. Realising he was describing a pony as ‘sexy’ he figured his sanity had finally broken.

Regardless, he had a job to finish. And thankfully Luna didn’t tease. She had no ceremony like her older sister, or any other pony Rigel had spied on for that matter. She didn’t bother double checking the locks on her door or windows. She didn’t go for the box of toys or bottles of exotic lotion under the bed. This gal didn’t play around the least.

She kicked off her slippers and other regalia on her trot towards the bed, and her light blue mane fell in wavy strands around her neck as she threw herself into the soft cushions. Within an instant she had rolled onto her back and shamelessly spread her legs like a cheap whore trying to get to pay-day as quickly as physically possible.

There was no foreplay, no work up. Immediately Luna laid hooves on herself, starting around her chest and belly, stroking in quick but sensual circles before she slowly inched down to her…

“Ooooooh~!”

… well, I think you get the picture.

The thick, prickly musk of cordite filled the firing range in the aftermath of Tex’s shoot. Having sufficiently gone to town on a target a hundred metres across the hollow chamber, filling a cardboard cutout of Tirek with holes, the phantom put down his rifle and removed his hearing-protection with a wicked smile.

“Ya’ think I got him?” Tex chuckled as he turned to his friends.

The rest of Foxtrot Team were gathered around sat on the stacks of ammo boxes and supply crates littering the room. Deep beneath the Castle of the Two Sisters, nestled within the spooky confines of the Everfree Forest, Phantom HQ lay concealed in the web of underground tunnels and chambers. One such chamber had been refitted to house a small private armoury with enough ammunition to liberate a small country.

But since the phantoms were photographers, nobody could quite figure out why.

Jared just counted his blessings that they were deep underground enough that any shooting practice couldn’t be heard by the pony population even if they were visiting the old castle.

Removing his own hearing-pro, the young human chuckled. “Any why exactly do we have a shooting range on base?”

“Tex really wanted one,” Crispy explained, only half paying attention as he was reading a comic book. “And we all know, if you wish hard enough, corporate will deliver.”

“It also helps that Rigel is our friend and that his brother owns the company that signs our paycheques,” Foxy-ac clarified. “Tex asked for a shooting range and he received. Crispy wanted a blow-up doll, now he isn’t so lonely every night.

Jared’s gaze shifted across at Crispy as he snorted offended into his comic.

“Karamel isn’t some blow up hussy. She’s a Real-Doll; a classy lady.”

Clearing his throat, Jared shifted his seat to increase the distance between them slightly.

“Point is,” Foxy-ac continued as he assembled the parts of a pistol laid on the crate in front of him, “If you need something all you have to do is ask. And if the regular procurement chain takes too long, just ask Rigel. He’ll sort you out.”

“How about some more invisibility cloaks. Can he sort us out with those?” Jared asked.

The rest of Foxtrot Team roared with laughter.

“So corporate can spring for firing ranges, armouries and Real-Dolls, but not for actual mission critical equipment that we need?”

Crispy snapped his book shut to watch Tex push rounds into a magazine for another shoot. “Here’s some general retardation you don’t often hear about. Why the fuck are we even out here filming the slice-of-life adventures of alien ponies? Wouldn’t it be more cost effective to just animate the fucking show instead of racking up a whopping credit-card bill on hyperspace gates, invisibility cloaks and covert-ops cameramen? Hey, Tex, you need another target?”

Tex had finished loading a mag and was reeling in the obliterated target so he could replace it. As he nodded, Crispy held up two fresh cardboard cutouts they’d prepared earlier.

“Nightmare Moon or Cheese-Feet Mc-Fuckin-Bitch?”

“Gimme Chrysalis,” Tex said, taking the cutout of the changeling queen and hanging it in Tirek’s place. “She’s been a naughty girl ‘n needs to take her punishment.”

“Tex hates changelings,” Crispy explained as they donned their hearing-protection again. “Says something about them reminds him of close encounters of the fourth kind. I think it’s a butt-thing.”

Speaking of ‘butt-things,’ Princess Luna had moved onto a butt-thing as her furious pre-sleep session developed quickly.

Over the course of her vigorous workings, ceiling-human watched Luna masturbate nerly every orifice in ten seconds flat.This was possibly the shortest photo-op Rigel had ever been assigned. In a matter of moments her swollen labia parted with moisture drilling down to her ass where a free hoof already slick with saliva eagerly rubbed and prodded, encouraged by her leaking arousal.

The sloppy, wet sounds of Luna’s motions carried up to the mic embedded in Rigel’s cam-rifle, recording the entire experience in full. Luna didn’t make any other sounds though, other than her heavy breathing that quickened with the pace of her hooves’ ministrations.

Her nether lips were spread wide to make space for her hoof as it made feverish circular motions over the precious little sensitive nub of flesh just above her slick opening. Her muscles were in constant contractions, the little pucker of pink flesh usually hidden with her dark blue fur winking excitedly.

Biting her lip and blushing, Luna suddenly threw her head back and Rigel knew what was coming next. He figured if he was insane already anyway, he might as well have a little fun with his job.

As she came, Rigel was fast enough to pull out his phone and snap a selfie with the princess in frame, doing his best to mimic her serene expression but failing with comical results.

Below, Luna screamed with joy, her hips bucking and trembling as a jet of her juices squirted through the gap between her hoof and her silky sweet-spot. Her mouth was agape as she stared into space, her cheeks going a light shade of pink as she slowly, panting, came down from an electric high.

She let out a breath so hot it misted, and Rigel was pretty sure the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees, like she’d drawn all the heat of the chamber into herself.

Then, like ejaculating hard enough to leave a five inch long wet stain on the mattress was nothing but another thing, Luna rolled over, pulled her blankets over herself and fell asleep, still smiling and still blushing.

Rigel blinked, staring for at least a few minutes before he checked his watch. In total, Luna had worked herself up and finished herself off in two minutes flat.

“Fuckin’ hell. That’s gotta be some kind of record,” Rigel whispered disbelievingly. He only wished his ex-girlfriends were so easy to please. Maybe if they were they wouldn’t be exes.

Lowering the ceiling tile into place and letting Luna sleep, Rigel yawned and packed up his gear. He was eager to get back to Phantom HQ and catch some winks. These late nights were really getting to him. He was practically dreaming of a shower followed by hot chicken soup, cold beer and a soft bed as he clambered down through the cavities and tunnels leading towards his exit.

The tunnels stretched on, and before Rigel knew it he’d delved deep into the ceiling cavities of the castle without bothering to check his map. So it was no surprise when he dreamily blinked away the fantasies of food drink and cushions that he found himself staring at a dead end.

“Huh?” Rigel pulled a face, rolled on his back and looked the way he had come. “Well that can’t be right. Where the fuck am-…”

He was interrupted by a crackling. It sounded like crumbling stone, like thin slates taking on too much weight. He could feel the ceiling tiles sag under his weight, and then heard the pronounced crack of a support beam weathered and weakened by time.

“Uh-oh.”

The ceiling fell away under him and Rigel plummeted through a vortex of blinding dust and choking debris.

His landing was soft enough though as he hit what felt like a couch. The legs buckled and the cushions popped adding feathers to the clouds of dust filling the room, but his fall had been broken at least.

Rigel was about to be thankful for having landed on something soft, but all sense of relief faded when the phantom saw it lurking through the clouds of dust and feathers. White fur, a cloudy mane with all the colours of summer and two gorgeous light magenta eyes turning to look directly at him…