The Hand of God

Some time has elapsed since the Princesses summoned you to their castle to demonstrate just what you can do with your hands. Hell, you even surprised yourself. How? A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, but let's just say that both of your arms up to the elbow have smelled like fish for the week afterwards. Regardless of how the rest of the week went, that first day was pretty fucking weird.

Banish the thought. You really don't want to think about that, how his supple white ass rippled, how underneath that sat those two perfect, swollen, black...

You're not gay.

Shortly before you left Twilight told you that the spell would wear off if you got an overdose of 'love' or if two months had passed. After your week with the Princesses you knew she would be displeased to see the spell worn off before those months were over, so you did the only thing you could to spare her feelings.

You lied and kept slapping that booty.

Finally those two months were up and Twilight declared you cured and 'fit for society'. Although you no longer needed to be kept in the castle, Twilight was kind enough to let you stay. it was hard for a resident without a cutie mark to get a job. That's actually why Twilight tried to turn you into a pony to begin with. Without that ass tattoo most ponies considered you talentless and unemployable.

You try to make yourself useful around the castle but there's not really much to do, most tasks already have some pony assigned to it. The only place in this huge ass castle without a dedicated servant is the kitchen. It's currently a half hour past noon and you know that Twilight usually takes lunch at one. She was always nice to you so you decide to make her a nice stack of sandwiches as a small thanks. It's not much, but it's really all you can do.

You finish the food and decide to wait for Twilight by reading. She comes into the kitchen a few minutes before one to be greeted with a platter full of various sandwiches and vegi- and hay-burgers. You were distracted by a book when she walked in, so you were somewhat startled when she spoke up.

“Who's this food for?”

“For you,” you say after marking the page and setting down the book. You grab the plate and lower it to her head level, “just a small way to say thanks for letting stay here.”

A purple field encompasses the plate as she takes it from you. “Oh, if anything I should be making you food. My magic experiments have caused you so many problems! One took you from your home and another made me lock you in the castle for a month.”

“Don't feel so bad. Yeah, I was bummed by the fact that I couldn't get back home but I think the last two months more than make up for it.”

Her face turns pink as you say that with a large grin. “Oh... erm... thank you,” she whispers before bouncing off to her reading room. You chuckle slightly and return to your book. You're not even finished with the page when you hear a cough. Twilight stand in the kitchen doorway with a face somehow even pinker. “Anon. Would you like to... join... me?”

Your smile returns and you tell her that you would be glad to. Shutting the book, you follow behind her as she prances gaily to her study. Entering the room, Twilight is already on the settee, the food balanced precariously on an armrest and a book floating in front of her. The only other seat in the room is covered in tomes of notable antiquity so you take a seat beside Twilight and continue your book.

Your endeavors at reading are cut short by loud snortings and huffings. After lifting your head from the pages, you turn to see Twilight with her entire face buried in the plate of food, eyes cast to the side to read her book. Bits of bread and bun blast about and cake the couch and carpet. In your mind you know that this sight should make you shudder, but to see this pretty purple pony princess plant her face into the food like a petite piggy is positively precious.

In short order the entire stack of food is obliterated. She muffles a small burp in her hoof and glances at you. “Oh! You were... I... was I making noise?” She says with her ears flat as embarrassment rains on her face. You smile at her and her head droops. “I'm sorry.”

You put a hand on her back and she jumps somewhat.

“Sorry for what? Being hungry? Being cute?”

“No, for being- wait. Cute?” She asks as a blush flares up again.

You shrug and continue, “to be fair, I thought it was cute but I can't speak for everyone.”

She continues to look at you as her cheeks gets progressively redder. She smiles brightly before returning to her book. The two of you sit there like that for a while, each of you with a face in a books as you idly scratch her back. Minutes and chapters pass before anyone says anything. Twilight was the first to speak. Her voice was low at first and you grunt inquisitively to get her to repeat what she said.

“Lower.”

Not one to leave the ladies longing, you go from scratching her back to rubbing the side of her belly. Again she repeats what she said before, not as a request but as an order.

“Lower.”

Your left hand cups a buttcheek and you roll her hip. This continues for a minute before she breaks the silence with a whimpering plea.

“Lower.”

You lean into her ear and ask her if she's sure. The thin aura around her horn grows momentarily as the study door closes. The aura vanishes and the book falls to the floor with a thud as she turns to look you in the eyes. A silent 'please' escapes her mouth as her breathing picks up. After setting down your book, you sit back and pull your left hand up to expose her sex. Her clitoris was visible for just a second before it retreats to her welcoming warmth.

You inch your right hand closer to her. As you do so, you feel the heat radiating from her, and as you get closer and closer it becomes almost unbearable. Finally you make contact as your hand lies flush with her marehood. She shakes as a light moan escapes her mouth. Her bulging clitoris makes a reappearance. Hers is unlike the others you've encountered, more bulbous and pronounced. This allows you grasp it between two fingers as you slowly run your hand up and down her slick entrance.

Her panting grows labored as you pull on the clitoral hostage and tease her sex. Her face scrunches with pleasure and you start to kneed and massage her rump with your left hand. You release her captive clitoris as you prod into her. With a wet sound, two fingers wend their way into her which cause her to release a repressed moan. Your fingers start to trace small circle. She's tight around you and your fingers struggle to even move inside of her. You're surprised that she's not like her mentor in that regard.

You take your left hand off of her rear and replace it on her neck. After putting your lips to her ear, you ask if this is alright. “I'm fine!” She gasps through clenched teeth. While uncertain about the truthfulness of that statement, you decide to trust her judgment and continue as you pepper her neck in small kisses.

Her face clenches and with bestial groan she shudders as the couch, you hand, and your lap are flooded with what seems like gallons of lavender-scented mare juice. Sprawled out on the couch, Twilight pants loud 'ah's as she comes down from her high. A minute after the finale she's concious enough to speak with only minimal stuttering.

“Thank you, Anon,” she says, still gasping after each syllable, “that was just... what I needed.”

You laugh and begin to fix her hair with you're clean hand when she continues, “I know what you did in Canterlot,” your hand stops for a moment before resuming, “and you know what? I don't  care.”

She pulls herself around and onto your lap. Her hooves tiredly paw at your crotch “I love you and... if... you'll... let me... show...” Her head collapses and small snores escape her rapacious slumber.

You pat her hair down.

“That'll do, pig. That'll do.”