Chapters You are Celestia and for the past two hours you've been in the ponyville prison. The building is usually empty, but right now it houses Twilight, the Mayor, Anonymous, a few guards, and, of course, you yourself. You're looking into the cell Anonymous currently inhabits. The Mayor stands to your right. Twilight stands to your left. It would seem that Anonymous decided to slap the Mayor's rear in the middle of her speech opening the summer fair.
Anonymous and Twilight have been frantically trying to explain what happened for over an hour, jumbling their words in their haste. You've finally decided that you've heard enough and raise a hoof to silence them.
“Let me see if I'm understanding you,” you say before repeating what you've pieced together, “Twilight casted a changeling spell on you to try to turn you into a pony?”
”Yes,” they say in unison.
“But the spell failed?”
Another yes.
“And the failed spell caused you to have a changeling's hunger for love?”
“Yes.”
“Which you curbed by slapping Twilight's butt every hour?”
”Yes,” the two say at once again.
It strikes you as odd that that was the way they chose.
“Now can you, Twilight, tell me why that was how you two decided to go about this? For my own edification, please.”
“Well, Princess,” she says with a tinge of embarrassment on her face, “when I was trying to find a cure after I cast the spell, he blacked out for a second and just did it. We decided to 'roll with it' as he said.”
“I see. And on the morning of this incident, everypony was frantic to prepare and Anonymous here hadn't been 'fed' all day?”
“Yes,” Twilight says in a small voice, rubbing her neck, “sorry about that.”
“Then I suppose he 'blacked-out' when he was on stage during the Mayor's speech?”
Anonymous answers alone with a “yep.”
“That was easy enough to figure out!”
You are now Anon and you are in deep shit. Celestia sounds like she's figured out what to do and is about to pass judgment.
Fucking stupid absolute monarchies.
“Twilight is to pay a fine of 25 bits for magical negligence and Mr. Anonymous here is to be set free. Is that good enough for you, Mayor?”
The Mayor looks like she has something she wants to say but what ever reservation she had she decides not to air it.
“Yes.”
Fucking awesome absolute monarchies.
A guard opens the cell door and leads you out. You follow behind the two Princesses and the mayor to your freedom. Twilight is talking to Celestia but you hope she doesn't take too long. When you two make it back to the castle you are going to slap her ass so hard to make up for this. Man, do you need a good ass to slap! It's been over seven hours and you still haven't gotten your daily dose. You're going to-
That thought was interrupted by the sound of flesh against flesh punctuated by a startled gasp and everyone stopping. Looking down at your stinging hand you see it flushed. You look to the left to see Twilight with a horrified look on her face but also with an intact ass. You look right to the Mayor to see the same. You gulp and look straight ahead and see a large white rump, with a sun partially visible on both sides. Directly above the sun on the right is a reddening outline of a hand.
Celestia finally turns to look at you, "A-anon! Di-...did you just slap my b-butt?"
Aw fuck, you're just going to go right back to the cell.
“Aw fuck, I'll just get right back to the cell.”
Your short trek is interrupted by Celestia's voice. “Leave us,” she commands the Mayor. “All of you,” she adds, looking to her guards. Everyone starts leaving. Celestia puts a hoof on Twilight as she takes to leave, “not you.” She's going to kill you, isn't she?
Fucking absolute monarchies.
Once everybody leaves, she starts to give you a particular look as though she's looking for the point to blast to ensure that you splatter everywhere. After finally sizing you up she turns around.
”Again.”
You look at Twilight who shares your confusion and ask her, “what?”
“Slap me again,” she orders you with less certainty in her voice.
“Oh... okay?” You say unsure of yourself. You place your hand next to her right buttcheek and give it a light tap.
Now that you're actually aware of your hand you can fell it's texture. My god, it is heavenly. You've always joked about ponies being marshmallows, but that is exactly what her ass feels like; a large, round, perfectly molded marshmallow covered with a fine coat of hair as soft as a velvet. Even Twilight's tiny tush didn't compare to this. Hers was nice, damn nice in fact, but she lacked the cushioning that Celestia has.
Celestia sighs in disappointment at your lackluster effort. “I said slap me, not pat me,” it's hard to determine what emotion laces her voice, but it almost sounds like annoyance. You don't display any hesitation, however; right now all you want is to do is touch that ass again.
Raising your arm up high, you bring back down on her supple behind, eliciting a gasp as sharp as the sting. Again and again you slowly retract your arm to the skies and swing it swiftly against her rear, every time provoking a pant each more intense than the last.
After the nineteenth spank (yes, you counted) you stop, your curse's dietary requirement well met. Although the punishment has ceased, Celestia continues to pant.
”Who told you,” she manages between breaths, “to stop?”
“Well, I don't need to do this anymore. My 'hunger', if you will, is sated.”
”Well, mine is not.” Celestia straightened her forelegs which became bent at some point when you were distracted by her ass. “Now, who told you to stop?”
Fucking absolute monarchs.
Her disapproval of that light pat earlier. The heavy aroma in the air. The expectant look on her face. Not only was she enjoying this, she was really getting off to this; being spanked like a disobedient child in front of Twilight who saw her as a mentor, a teacher, a ruler, and a god.
Let's not leave the Princess wanting, then.
“If you insist, 'your highness'.”
You glance over to Twilight who actually appears somewhat sad. You suspect that Twilight had grown to like your hand, especially after she asked you to massage her afterwards to help her with the soreness. But that's a story for another time.
With your attentions back on Celestia, you deftly grab her dock in your left hand and rub your free hand over the red marks on the right of her ass. A sudden breath gives to cooing as you massage your fingers roughly into the bruised flesh beneath.
Having soothed her enough you throw your open fist out to the side and back into her tender red hide. Unlike before, you follow through with this swing and feel your fingertips grace a wet entrance in passing. With your right hand now under your left arm, you throw it again to the right, making sure to hit her other cheek in the backswing. She gasps breathlessly in response to this sudden aggression and a clear smile is painted on her face.
You take the renewed bending of her forelegs as all the approval you need and continue this assault on her ass. Her restrained gasps turn to wild moans as you strike her again and again. Seconds turn to minutes and her white rump is now painted with oblong red marks from your endeavors. You've lost count this time of exactly how many times you've spanked her but it must have numbered in the hundreds.
Her moans soon turn into something else. She lets out feral scream which is quickly muffled by her hoof. From her exposed sex, jets of liquid bridge the gap between her crotch and yours before soaking into the now damp floorboard. You're pretty sure that ponies, or people for that matter, usually come from spanking alone, but you're in a land of magic talking horses, you ain't got to explain shit.
A minute passes as the she contains her breathing and you just smile at her like the doofus you are. She lifts herself off the floor with still somewhat shaky legs and regains her composure. She turns to you looking as calm as she did passing judgment on you thirty minutes ago.
“I apologize, Mister Anonymous. I don't know what came over me. Estrus doesn't even begin for another week.” You were about to brush off the apology when she leans in closer and continues, “but when it does, I'll make sure to have some guards pick you up. Maybe you can show me some other things you can do with your hands, hmm?”
She turns away and laughs while magicking the mess away. She's about at the door when you notice her wiggling ass is now as red as Big Mac. You're not sure how to say it, but you've got to remind her before she leaves.
“Celestia! Um... you're behind is, er, still red.”
She turn to you and tells you that she know in a tone so mischievous it would put Discord to shame. A dopey grin works itself back onto your face when she prances out the door and you shove your fists into your pockets.
'Yeah, that just happened' you think with a nod.
”Anon! What the hay!”
Holy fuck! You forgot about Twilight. She does not seem please. Shit, she looks so pissed that she might even throw you out of the castle. Shit! Even if you don't know where you'll sleeping soon, at least you know what you'll be doing.
Fucking an absolute monarch.
You are Anonymous and you're at Twilight's ugly ass castle right now. Life's been good for you. Ever since that scene at the prison, Twilight was insistent that you stay indoors. For the first day of confinement you were anxious, but Twilight always made sure to stop in every hour to 'feed' you.
The both of you have gotten to like this arrangement. You noticed that every hour soon turned to every fifty minutes which by the next day dwindled to every half hour. Right now it's night and Twilight is sprawled on your lap, you're hand slowly patting her rump while she contently reads a book.
“Twilight?” The two of you turn to see Spike enter the room, “Some guard says that he's here to take Anon.”
“What? Why?”
“He says Celestia wants to talk to him.”
“Oh,” she quietly says before hopping off your legs, “okay.”
You get up and follow her to the front gate. At the entrance of the palace are two pegasus guards in golden armor, one gray and the other white. The white one is still strapped onto a carriage while the gray on leads you into it. After taking the seat the guard harnesses himself next to his compatriot. As they start to trot off you look back to see Twi starring to you before they start beating their wings and take to flight. You really must have grown on her and to be fair she's grown a bit on you.
But you push that thought out of your mind and wonder what Celestia meant when she said that she wanted to see what else you could do with your hands. If you play your cards right, your hands might smell like fish.
The flight is ultimately uneventful but the scenery was gorgeous. The small ponies making their ways home for the night look like ants from up here. In truth, you weren't flying too high but the ponies are small to begin with. The pegasi moving the last night clouds drift peacefully by and the air is the perfect crispness of early autumn.
The flight would seem like it should be shorter than it actually is. After 50 minutes of beautiful scenic views you finally fly into Canterlot proper. The carriage spirals inward over the mountain city as it lazes with the hustle of a small city below. It seems Celestia told them to pull out all the stops.
Finally the guards pull onto an overhang high on the palace tower.
“Here's the destination,” says the gray stallion after unharnessing himself and opening the door for you.
“Thank you,” you say after stepping out, only to see them take to the skies again, “have a nice night!” you shout after them.
“I know I will,” a now familiar voice replies from behind you.
You turn to be greeted by Celestia in a fine white gossamer nightgown. Your mind wanders wondering why someone who's always naked would wear clothes to bed. Even more confounding is how wearing more clothes actually make her look sexier.
She snaps you out of that inquiry by stepping towards you. “I'm afraid that tonight's... entertainment will have to be put on hold for a short while. Twilight tells me that you have a saying where you're from: 'spare the rod and spoil the child.'?” She's standing face to face with you now.
“Yes. It's actually a passage from an influential holy text. Why?”
She inspects your chest while licking her chops and turns back to her chamber. “Let's just say that for tonight, you are my rod,” she says while the tip of her wing grazes your tightening pants.
You follow her out of the open air and into her room, “And where, pray tell, is the spoiled child?”
Without a misplaced step Celestia keeps walking when she cries out, “Luna! Bring in our nephew!”
The doors open and white stallion walks with Luna following close behind. He looks familiar. You actually think you got into an argument with him soon after your arrival, but his demeanor is totally different. His eyes are fixed on the floor, his haunches are lowered in defeat, his hooves drag on the floor, his blond mane is mussed up, and his suit's torn.
Celestia turns to you, “do you know who this is, Anonymous? I believe you've met once.”
You squat down to get a good look at his face. “Yeah... I've met him. I think he called me a pleb once.”
“You are a pleb, ape.”
“I'm not a pleb, I'm PC master-race,” you say standing up as Luna nudges him.
Celestia looks at you confused.
“Never mind. So this is the 'child'?”
“Yes,” Celestia continues, “he decide to show up drunk for a formal event being held for the Griffin ambassador. When the ambassador expressed displeasure at his attitude, my nephew here, Prince Blueblood, started shouting obscenities and got into a brawl with the entire delegation. Luckily Luna was there to put an end to it as soon as it started, but his actions caused the Griffins to retract from an important trade agreement that I personally spent years working on.”
Well, fuck, that's some hefty shit.
“Celestia, I think that he needs more than just a paddling. I mean, I'll be your rod but my rod's not nearly large enough for that. And I have a pretty large rod.” You say that final part with a wink to Luna who seems totally unphased by the innuendo.
“Oh, he's already been ordered to pay a large indemnity to the Griffin delegation and a fine for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct. What I want now is to punish him for ruining my trade agreement that I spent so long on. This, here, is family business.”
“Is this against the law?”
“I am the law.”
“Alright,” you clap your hands together, “let's get to it!”
You take a seat on the plush bedspread and pat your lap. Blueblood looks at you and shuffles backwards into Luna.
“B-but aunties, I'm a grown adult.”
Celestia walks over to him and lifts his head with her hoof and looks him straight in the eye, “then stallion-up and accept the punishment like the grown adult you claim to be.” Her voice carries a calmness with it. She doesn't sound angry or frustrated but instead she sounds like a teacher lecturing a small child and encouraging him to do the right thing. “A grown stallion would acknowledge his wrong doing and welcome the punishment with the knowledge that in doing so he helps maintain the balance that he upset.”
“But I don't wanna,” he spits out. God, he does sound like a child, a naughty misbehaved child who must be set straight.
Celestia tries to coax him further. You've decided you've seen enough of this pitiful display. A grown-ass adult acting like a spoiled rotten child. You stand up and interrupt the quiet pleadings from Celestia by grabbing tight his ear and pulling him to the bed. His watery eyes finally letting tears free in small sobs.
“Save your tears, boy,” you say as you drop down on the bed, “you'll need 'em for later.”
You roughly grab his haunches and pull him on your lap with a swift jerk. You pin him in place with your left arm running down his back. After lifting his tail with your right hand, you pass it to the left to hold it up when you do your business. His plump white ass is now exposed for you and the Princesses. Outside of the cutie marks, his ass is an immaculate white tone except at the very bottom. While you don't want to be caught checking out his ass in front of the Princesses, a quick glance shows that just under his two round cheeks are two generously sized testicles covered in thin black hairs. You note to try not to hit those.
After you cock your arm up, you look to the two Princesses and Celestia nods solemnly. However Luna nods far more eagerly.
Your arm swings like a windmill and strikes him firmly on the rear. One. He gasps in reaction and the Princesses remain still in their vigil. The height of you arm builds and once again falls without word on Blueblood's surprisingly supple rump. Over and over again with no relent you strike him for his insolence. You continue to stain Blueblood's white rear with pink stripe after stinging pink stripe. You decide to get creative and start to slap a crude drawing into his feminine butt. His breath staggers and you feel a warmth in your lap.
Did he just piss on you? That's a paddling.
Your slowing pace picks up and you smack his behind with a renewed vigor. His panting intensifies likewise, no longer accompanied by sobs. It seems you've finally broken this unruly horse but you continue for good measure. After another minute he shudders as he loses control again and the dampness on your pants reheats and expands.
“Enough.” Celestia finally says as an aura envelopes your manic hand. Celestia gleefully trots over. She leans down to look into Blueblood's haggard eyes still puffy from tears. With the voice of a concerned mother she asks him if he's learned his lesson which he confirms with frantic nods.
A blue aura envelopes him as Luna carries him out of the bedchamber.
Celestia runs a hoof down your chin, “thank you, Anonymous. I don't think I would've been able to do that.”
“No problem, Celestia,” you say standing up. You try to straighten your pants to feel a hot stickiness. Looking down you realize that Blueblood didn't piss himself; he came. Twice.
Celestia chuckles, “don't worry, Anonymous,” your clothes are immediately encased in a golden aura and torn apart at the seams, “I was planning on ruining those anyway. Isn't that right, Luna?”
“Indeed, sister.” Luna replies after closing the door behind Blueblood. She must've liked what she saw in that dream.
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.”
Four! Four Princesses, ah ah ah ah. ~Hasbro
You are Luna and the papers have had a field day over what happened at the Summer Celebration a few days ago. You've confronted your sister and she confirmed that Anonymous did indeed have a magical illness but she wont tell you what happened in the prison. You even wrote to Twilight only to get likewise stonewalled.
You decided you've had enough and plan to talk to Anonymous himself. Your schedule's too filled up with official duties to meet him in person.
What official duties? Like, moon stuff... shut up.
Although Anonymous has asked you not to enter his dreams, you figure looking in once isn't going to hurt.
You're sitting alone in your chambers reading hard core pornogra- moon letters... hard core moon letters when your somnesense notifies you that Anonymous is about to begin dreaming. Closing your eyes, you enter a meditative trance and travel across the dreamscape to find an old castle. Passing through the walls to find Anonymous, you finally enter his dream proper.
Celestia stands before him in the throne-room, presenting herself like a common street whore. Anonymous stand behind her with an arm raised. On the throne sits a purple puppet with large fangs wearing formal attire.
”Let's count how many fine booty smacks Anon can deliver,” the puppet says.
Anonymous brings his hand hard against her hinny.
”One! One fine booty smack, ah ah ah ah.”
Anonymous strikes her again.
”Two! Two fine booty smacks, ah ah ah ah.”
And again he hits her.
”Three! Three fine booty smacks, ah ah ah ah.”
You now know why Anonymous didn't want you in his dreams. You back away slowly and carefully exit the trance, making sure to not draw his notice. When you finally return the waking realm you furiously mastur- catalogue this in your journal.