A Trick for her Sleeve

by Voslar

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Trixie, Sex, Human, Anthro, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 8644

Trixie isn't a 'friend' so much as she's 'less aggressive towards you than she is to most.' Still, you've come to enjoy her company. But when the prideful unicorn's secret is revealed, she'll need to make

You're not sure Trixie Lulamoon is your 'friend,' exactly. But she is, uh... well, she usually doesn't throw things at you, and you've come to actually kind of enjoy her flashy, outrageous behavior. Combine that with the boastful unicorn's often-solitary lifestyle, and it adds up to her tolerating you far more than she would most others.

So when your old 'friend' returns to Manehattan after a long absence, muttering about "side effects" and "that stupid Amulet," you're naturally a little concerned. Maybe it's time to see if there's anything you can do to help. Trixie's temper may flare a bit at the offer, but you're confident you can handle her. After all, how hard could it be?

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Shameless, shameless clop written by request for a friend. Contains anthro, second person, futa, futa on male, domination, and rough sex. You have been warned.

Published 2014-10-15 16:30:08 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-15 16:30:08 UTC

The only chapter.

A soft breeze tugged at your clothes, casting ripples in the surface of your drink as you raise it to take a sip. The sun was just beginning to set behind you, soft light still sufficient illumination for the book laid out on the table in front of you. You didn't know how this cafe wasn't more popular, but you weren't complaining; getting a table like this all to yourself was something to be treasured indeed. It had quickly become one of your favorite spots in Manehattan, and given some of the things you'd seen in this city since moving here, that was saying a lot. Setting your drink back down on the table, you let out a little sigh of contentment. It was Friday night, your weekend was clear, the weather was great, and life was good. In fact, the only thing that could possibly make a moment like this better, would be...

The mare's fist smacks into the table, seizing your attention. You start slightly, not having noticed her approach. Looking up, you see a light blue unicorn glaring back down at you. A darker blue skirt teases at the finely shaped legs beneath, tail swishing lightly in impatience behind her. The hand she didn't use to get your attention rests upon her hip, a deep purple top complimenting her fur. Equally purple eyes stare at you imperiously, clearly unimpressed with what they see. After several seconds, the unicorn's frown shifts to a smirk.

"Hello again, Trixie's number one fan."

She slides into the seat across from you with a happy sigh. The tension dissolves almost immediately, and you can't help but smile - damn if she isn't always like this, but damn if some part of you doesn't find it endearing. You greet your favorite magician, asking her if she'd like anything.

"Mmm, yes. You may buy Trixie a drink, human. She is parched from her long journey."

In all the time you've ever known her, she's never offered to pay, always simply taking it for granted that you would. You can only chuckle to yourself in amusement - it's just so typically her that it's impossible to be bothered by it. If Trixie wasn't being outrageously presumptuous, she wouldn't really be Trixie, after all. Flagging down a waitress, you order up an oat smoothie - one of the boisterous showmare's favorites, as you recall. Not bothering to use her hands, she leans back in her chair, closing her eyes as she sips from the drink floating in her telekinetic field.

You weren't sure you could call what you had with Trixie 'friendship,' exactly, but it was probably as close as the showmare would ever be comfortable with. Trixie's outrageous personality made her quite a celebrity on the local stages of Manehattan, but as you'd quickly found out, that personality wasn't just an act. Once the shows ended, relatively few ponies seemed to want anything to do with her. You could sympathize; putting up with her could be trying at times. Still, you couldn't help but love that confidence. Trixie took shit from no one, and always seemed so supremely certain that she could handle anything life could throw at her - usually with a boastful one-liner to back it up. It was a bizarre sort of enthusiasm, but an infectious one all the same. Just being around the showmare was an experience you'd come to relish. Before you knew it, you were attending every one of her shows whenever she was in town.

The greater surprise to you was that Trixie seemed to return the affection. Sure, it was in her own very 'Trixie' way - she'd probably sooner die than admit she liked you, and she still made every negative opinion she held on you abundantly clear. But it was equally undeniable that after your first couple of awkward meetings, she seemed to gravitate towards you whenever she was in town. Moments like these, where she simply sat and enjoyed her drink, seemed to be the most relaxed you'd ever seen her. On more than one occasion you'd noticed her building up to one of her trademark angry rants, only to abruptly cut herself short when she remembered that you were there. Given how much Trixie's attitude seemed to scare most ponies away, a part of you had always suspected that she took it easy on you simply to avoid driving off one of the few people she actually got along with. She still made it perfectly clear just where you ranked in comparison to herself, but that was fine. Catching every last one of this mare's shows had taught you one thing pretty clearly: as much as she talked, she really was that good.

Before too long, your thick skin - and Trixie's own admittedly reluctant endearment - had earned you the title "Trixie's number one fan" from the arrogant blue unicorn. Thorny the road may have been at times, you had to admit it had been well worth it to call such a unique and talented pony your friend.

It didn't hurt that she was one hell of a looker, either.

After a particularly long pull on her straw, Trixie leans back into her seat with a contented sigh. "Ah... Trixie needed this. Truly, those bumbling fools in Fillydelphia had just about worn on her last nerve. It's good to be back in Manehattan again." She sniffs lightly in disdain. "At least here, Trixie's talents are appreciated." Cracking an eye open, she looks at you as though to appraise your reaction to her comment. Seeming satisfied with what she sees, she stretches luxuriously - a motion that does fascinating things to the surface of her clothes. "And honestly, if I ever find myself in Ponyville again it will be too soon..."

You raise an eyebrow - it's truly rare to see the unicorn relaxed enough or distracted enough to drop her constant third person speaking habit. You seem to recall her having mentioned something about a town called Ponyville before; that had been in the early days, and she'd just about hit you for even mentioning the name. Carefully, like a surgeon probing a wound, you ask if anything happened on her last tour.

To your everlasting shock, Trixie visibly flinches at the question. "Tr... Trixie... does not wish to speak of it. Ever!"

Surprised at the suddenly defensive shift in the usually unflappable mare's demeanor, you move to placate her. Caught up in her own fervor, however, Trixie simply talks right over you, sitting up rigidly in her chair with anger.

"It was not Trixie's fault! It was the Amulet! The Great and Powerful Trixie is not a monster!" She glares at you. "She isn't!"

Okay, okay, you believe her! You don't have any idea what the agitated pony is talking about, but clearly this is a topic to shift away from as soon as possible. Before you can find any delicate way of doing so, however, Trixie sinks back into her chair. Her beautiful purple eyes stare aimlessly down at the table, lost in memories. Just barely, you manage to make out her grumbled words.

"Besides, Trixie is still carrying the reminders of that mistake, even now..."

And what the hell does that mean...?

It looks like you're not destined to find out. Without another word, Trixie resumes nursing at her drink, and you judge it probably best to let sleeping dogs lie. The next few minutes pass in amiable silence, the two of you enjoying your beverages as the sun sinks into the horizon behind you. The bizarre little moment quickly forgotten, you find yourself simply basking in the showmare's presence once more, content simply to be.

Finally, Trixie pushes her empty glass away. As though suddenly remembering the image she tries so hard to convey, she gives a small huff as she does so. "The Great and Powerful Trixie finds your offering... acceptable. You will be permitted to attend her show tomorrow night. It will begin at 7:00 PM precisely. Do NOT be late."

Without waiting for a reply, the blue unicorn pushes away from the table, twisting as she rises from her chair and leaving away without another word. Even in this, she manages to display the natural grace of a born performer, her rump swaying slightly, enticingly as she glides more than walks down the rapidly emptying street. You watch her go until she fades from sight, once more impressed by the sheer presence the mare seems to exude.

Well, one thing's for sure: Tomorrow should be a night to remember.

Not for the first time, you wondered if you were doing the right thing. The performance was still a couple of hours away, but you'd found yourself with some time to kill, and you knew she was in the neighborhood. Trixie's wagon was nothing if not distinctive, and you knew she often preferred to simply use it in lieu of a hotel room. You'd never actually sought her out like this, least of all without an invitation, but you thought she might appreciate a little well-wishing before she headed out. She was your friend after all, right?

Right.

Climbing up onto the small retracting step before Trixie's door, you raised your hand for a knock... and hesitated. Maybe you should just leave her alone; good intentions aside, Trixie didn't seem like the type of mare who liked surprises. Besides, you were sure you'd be able to see her after the show; you'd met her for the first time during one of the meet-and-greets Manehattan performers customarily did after-

A long, low groan from inside the wagon interrupts your thoughts.

Trixie?

As though in response, you hear another muffled groan through the thick wood of the wagon's door.

That didn't sound too good. Trixie had looked fine yesterday, but that noise had sounded distinctly pained to you. Brow furrowing in concern, you frowned. You may have been able to leave this alone before, but if there was a chance Trixie was sick or hurt in there, then you most definitely needed to do something about it. No longer holding any ambivalence, you raised your hand and knocked sharply on the door.

And waited.

And waited.

Once again, you knocked.

Another moan comes, longer this time. Alright, that's it, then. A quick twist of the handle reveals that the door is thankfully unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, and push your way into Trixie's home.

... Oh.

... Oh my.

... That's...

... Wow.

Sprawled out in the middle of the surprisingly spacious wagon floor is Trixie, eyes screwed up tightly in concentration. Her face is flushed red with exertion, light pants and gasps escaping her in a steady rhythm. She fidgets slightly in place, wreathing and squirming. A pair of silk panties is tangled down around her ankles, legs spread lewdly apart. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the brief glimpse you get of puffy pink flesh between her perfectly toned legs.

Yet even despite that gift from the Goddesses, your attention is held entirely by something else: the enormous, rock-hard stallionhood and heavy, plump balls that Trixie's hands are frantically stroking at.

For what feels like an eternity, you can only gape in speechlessly amazed confusion. Trixie, completely lost in her own private little world, still seems not to have noticed you - that explains the unanswered knocking, some distant part of your brain dimly informs you. The showmare continues, blithely unaware of your presence, needing both diminutive hands to wrap around the monster in her lap. She must have been at it for a while now; the adorable little gasps, squeaks, and moans are steadily rising in volume, and her hands are beginning to work her cock at an almost feverish pace. The smell of Trixie's musk is thick, almost cloying in the poorly ventilated space of the wagon. You begin to feel light-headed almost immediately, your body uncomfortably stiffening in reaction to Trixie's overpowering scent. Her cock stands proudly, so large you'd swear she could fellate herself if she wanted to, and you can see the spongy flesh of her cock head already beginning to flare out on the verge of orgasm. Precum already beads heavily on the tip, and you see Trixie's entire body tensing up as her eagerly pumping hands speed to a blur. Unable to turn away, even if you wanted to, you can only stand there and watch what you know to be coming.

Trixie does not disappoint. She arches her back, breath escaping tightly clenched teeth in a sharp hiss, and the massive horse cock held tightly in her grip begins to throb. Several lances of pure, immaculate white launch straight up from her prick, hanging slightly in the air before they come splattering back down onto the mare's exposed stomach in impressively large splotches.

Trixie's muscles begin to visibly relax as the last of her orgasm subsides. The exhausted unicorn slumps to the floor, still panting lightly from her exertions. A small, satisfied smile graces her face all the same, however. With a happy little sigh, the unicorn opens her eyes.

And immediately sees you still watching, open-mouthed.

Surprise is the first emotion to register. Followed very, very quickly by mortification. Then panic. Then anger. Then murderous, murderous fury.

Then, you find yourself wrapped up in a telekinetic field and thrown into the wall hard enough to make you see stars. Groaning, you instinctively move to rub at the back of your head, but Trixie's magic holds you completely immobile.

"And just WHAT THE BLOODY BUCK do you THINK you're DOING?!"

Trixie stands before you, hastily re-dressed and eyes blazing with raw, unmitigated fury. A noticeably large bulge in her long pants reveals that her earlier 'excitement' has not had quite enough time to go away on its own yet, but Trixie's rictus of hatred prevents you from taking more than a passing glance.

"WHAT are you doing in TRIXIE'S WAGON!? Hoping for a little private show, you disgusting pile of minotaur crap? Just sitting there and watching Trixie? I swear, you're so stupid that killing you may actually be doing Equestria a favor!" She seethes. For a moment, the aura of light around her horn flares more brightly, and you feel the force constricting you tighten painfully. "Trixie is going to give you one chance - ONE chance - to explain yourself, and if you buck it up then-"

You were worried about her!

At your words, Trixie stops in mid-sentence, as abruptly as though you'd slapped her. "...What?"

Sensing a possible way to get out of this with your organs un-crushed, you continue with what is working so far: blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, as quickly as possible. You came to wish her luck at her show, and you knocked on the door, and you heard moaning and thought she might be in trouble, and you were worried about her, and you wanted to help!

After a long, long moment, the force restricting you slackens. Slightly.

"You were... worried about Trixie?"

Okay, she doesn't seem to be violently dismembering you. Yet. That's good for a start, but you doubt you're out of the woods yet. Desperate to keep the initiative in this conversation, you once more give voice to whichever thought happens to be at the top of your mind at the moment. In this case...

Trixie, why do you have a gigantic cock?

…

Huh. You didn't know faces could get that red.

"It... It... It wasn't Trixie's fault!" The mare immediately shouts. Her hands come up instinctively, the unicorn waving her hands madly back and forth as she takes a step back. She seems not to notice her own gesticulations, completely caught up in her babbled defense. "The Amulet made Trixie do a lot of strange things! The Great and Powerful Trixie would NEVER stoop to such baseness of her own accord! When Trixie was under the Amulet's influence it made many things seem like good ideas. The Amulet made Trixie think this would be a good way to properly dominate her subjects. Trixie would not normally fantasize about all the ways she could properly rut mares senseless, or humiliate even the most virile stallions, or claim whoever she wanted as her own personal cock sleeve, or..."

Pausing, Trixie shoots a quick glance down at her crotch and groans in dismay. "Oh, for buck's sake..."

But... shouldn't she, of all ponies, be able to remove it by now?

You hadn't meant to speak the thought aloud, but Trixie thankfully still seems preoccupied enough not to take offense.

"Of course Trixie can remove it! She has already found the appropriate counterspell and memorized the incantations. But... " Her gaze shifts, suddenly looking anywhere except at you. "... Trixie has been... busy. The spell requires a completely rested and focused mind and takes a very long time to cast. Trixie simply has not had the opportunity to be rid of this... abomination, yet. She will do so as soon as it is convenient."

Her gaze turns back up to you once more - and this time, you can see the hardness creeping back into it. "Which brings us back to YOU, Trixie's 'number one fan...' And just what Trixie should do with those who barge into her home uninvited and stare at Trixie like some sort of freak show attraction!" Once again, her face sets into a snarling grimace. You feel the force binding your limbs begin to tighten painfully once more, pressing inwards on your whole body. A particularly strong pressure on your stomach drives the breath from you, and you gasp.

Not... not a freak show...

"What was that?!" Trixie glares, taking a single step towards you, arms folded across her chest and eyes still smoldering with barely restrained anger. "Trixie did not hear you, 'fan.' Do you have something to say? Still want to make a mockery of the Great and Powerful Trixie?"

She's - she's not a freak show! She's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen! You always thought she was unbelievably, impossibly, incredibly smoking hot, and what you just saw wasn't just hot - it was perfection! Anyone in the world would be lucky, would be outright honored by the privilege to service Trixie's glorious shaft!

Almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, you can't believe you said them. What in Equestria had possessed you to think saying that would be a good idea? Shutting your eyes, you grit your teeth, turning your head to the side and hoping the unicorn's retaliation won't hurt too badly.

Nearly a minute later, you finally dare crack open an eye.

Trixie still stands before you, but the light of rage has left her eyes once more. In its place you see only a blank, quizzical expression, as though you are a puzzle she can't quite figure out. Her arms hang loosely at her sides, the tension completely gone from her posture. Though she clearly notices you opening your eyes to look at her once more, she still gives no response, only staring with a confused sort of curiosity.

After several more seconds pass in silence, the field around you abruptly dissipates, dropping you to the floor with a heavy -THUD-. Groaning, you slowly, arduously move to rouse yourself - it feels like every muscle in your body has fallen asleep after being suspended in the air for so long. In front of you, Trixie turns away, arms once more folded across her chest.

"Leave." Trixie says, her voice coldly imperious. "Trixie must finish preparing for her performance." She glances over her shoulder at you. "You will attend. Do not leave after the show; Trixie will send for you. We shall continue this conversation then. Do you understand?"

You nod.

"Then go. And do NOT disappoint Trixie."

If Trixie is as distracted by your earlier encounter as you are, she sure doesn't show it. Up on stage, the showmare is in her element. Every gesture, every flourish seems to put her just a little more firmly in control of the crowd. Her voice rolls and pitches at all the right moments, demanding the audience's attention and always putting them in just the right mood for the current trick. She was always at least as good at showmareship as she was at her magic, but she's clearly improved since last you saw her all the same. She's finally donned her distinctive cape and hat, as well. Corny as you thought they looked the first time, you could no longer imagine a Great and Powerful performance without them. You'd swear she tuns sharply far more than she has to, just for the excuse to have that cape flaring out dramatically behind her as she does so.

Well, you can't argue with success. This place is packed. Much as Trixie's reputation may have dipped for a while, she's rebuilt it in spades here in Manehattan. It seems like only just yesterday that she was performing on vacant lots on the outskirts of the city to whoever she could pull off the street; now, she's up on stage of one of the poshest theaters on Bridleway. You smirk inwardly at the idea that you can now honestly boast to your friends that you were a fan of The Great and Powerful Trixie before she was cool.

Still, the events of a couple hours ago weigh heavily on your mind. Throughout the evening, you can't help but look closely at the showmare's clothes as she parades up and down the stage. Once or twice, you think you can make out just the slightest bulge in her skirt... but you can't really tell if you're seeing it because of the power of suggestion, or simply because you'd never really thought to look for it before. Remembering the sight of that gargantuan pillar at full mast, you shiver slightly - how she could hide it so easily was beyond you. For your own part, it was a sight you doubted you could ever forget. That thick, veiny, dark blue shaft, matching the rest of her coat as perfectly as though it had always been there. Such a powerful, virile contrast to her slim, soft, delicate body, yet every bit the match for her overwhelming personality. The scent, so heady your thoughts begin to cloud slightly again at the mere memory of it.

And you could only imagine how it must have feel... so smooth, the flesh so soft, yet so reassuringly rock hard in your hands. Burning hot, commanding your reverence, your worship of such a superior being... And even the mere idea of tasting it was almost...

A particularly loud fanfare and burst of fireworks pulls your attention back to reality once more, and you look up to see Trixie basking in yet another round of applause, a shockingly realistic illusion of Queen Chrysalis lying dazed and defeated at her feet. Your eyes widen at the sight, thoroughly impressed despite yourself. There weren't many mages alive powerful enough to craft such complex, realistic illusions on the fly, let alone a fully animate one; it's just become more obvious than ever that Trixie has not been resting on her laurels.

Incongruously, you find your mind returning to the expression of sheer animalistic rage on her face from earlier, when she'd first become aware of your intrusion.

You applaud just as loudly as everyone else. But your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"Everyone, thank you all very much for coming!" The usher pony cheerfully proclaims. "However, it has been a very long night for Miss Trixie, and she will not be meeting any more guests this evening. On behalf of the Mare Iott, I hope that you've all enjoyed the show, and have a very pleasant evening! The theater will close in five minutes; please make sure not to leave any belongings behind!"

You sigh. You probably should have seen something like this coming.

You'd just about been dancing from foot foot in anticipation with the ending of the night's festivities, all manner of scenarios dancing in your head, but it seemed Trixie was ultimately planning on just blowing you off the whole time.

She'd done the usual 'mingle with the crowd' thing, of course. You were actually kind of impressed by how much she'd obviously learned about how to restrain herself from snapping at ponies. Yet you never quite worked up the nerve to approach her - she'd said she would send for you when she was ready, after all - and she'd never headed in your direction. After thirty minutes of awkwardly waiting on the outskirts of the crowd, Trixie had finally excused herself for the evening, retreating backstage. You'd hung around for a few more minutes just in case, but were rewarded only by the cleaning staff beginning to creep out from wherever it was they hid during the shows, making the first few tentative efforts at reclaiming the building from the levity that had so taxed it.

With a sigh, you rise from your seat, turning and heading for the theater doors. Really, you supposed you should probably be grateful Trixie's revenge was as mild as this; considering how angry she looked, she could have done much worse.

But as you approach the exit, you hesitate.

Trixie's instructions had been very, very clear.

You waver indecisively for a moment, before eventually turning back towards the interior with a much put-upon sigh of annoyance. You would keep waiting for as long as you could. No sense giving her any more ammo for being pissed at you, after all. Just as you plop down heavily in your chair once more, a voice catches your ear.

"Sir?"

Turning your head, you see the same usher pony from before, hovering in the aisle next to you. Quickly, you assure him that you know the theater was closing, you were leaving in just a minute, you just wanted to wait until-

The user cuts you off. "Excuse me, that's not it, sir. I was sent to find someone matching your description by Miss Trixie. The lady has requested your presence in her dressing room at once."

The placard in the door slot reads, "Dressing Room." Underneath it, in an insert clearly designed to be quickly and easily removed or edited at will for whatever big-name actor or actress happens to be in town that day, you see the subtitle "Trixie Lulamoon." Swallowing harshly to subdue the sudden dryness in your mouth, you raise your hand. For the second time today, you find yourself knocking on Trixie's door.

After a moment, the door swings open slowly of its own accord, the faint chiming of unicorn magic fading away as it swings inwards.

"Enter." Trixie's voice is calm.

The dressing room would be quite a sight to see under different circumstances. Clearly designed to cater to the delicate sensibilities of even the most uptight stars, your footfalls are inaudible against the thick, rich, royal red carpet. An enormous mirror stands atop the nearby desk, its spiraling wooden frame gilded in lustrous gold, and you can just make out the marble flooring of the private restroom tucked away in the back. Your attention, however, is fully dominated by the extravagantly embroidered fainting couch resting against the center of the back wall.

And the blue unicorn reposed upon it, smirking confidently at you. Behind you, you hear the door swinging shut once more, a soft -click- announcing its lock.

"Welcome to Trixie's dressing room, fan. Trixie is pleased you could make it. Did you enjoy the show?"

You can't help it - your eyes instinctively flicker to between the mare's slightly spread legs, where a bulge deforms the fabric of her skirt. Once more, you marvel that it was so unnoticeable during the actual performance. Did she use some sort of illusion spell on herself? Even flaccid and hidden away underneath her clothes, you can clearly make out her impressive girth now.

"Trixie asked her fan a question. It isn't polite to keep your betters waiting." Despite the unicorn's words, her confident, aggressive smile seems to have only grown at your obvious momentary lapse.

Quickly - and with easy sincerity - you assure the showmare that this performance was easily the best you've seen. You can't even begin to understand how she did half the things she did, and aside from a few specifically-requested crowd pleasers, you hadn't seen a single repeat trick in her entire repertoire. It was a real privilege to watch her perform.

"Mmm.... yes, it is, isn't it?" Trixie slowly lifts her head back, brushing a long lock of hair out of her eyes. "And you've been to every single one of Trixie's shows in Manehattan. You have been more 'privileged' than most." Rising, she stalks across the room toward you, running a slow, delicate line across your shoulder with one finger as she passes. "Really, Trixie has been too good to you."

Trixie's voice sounds from behind you, as she continues her slow, pacing circle. "But you want even more, don't you?"

... You... you don't-

"This afternoon, when you were watching Trixie." You feel her hovering just over your shoulder, now, paralyzing your muscles with her proximity. "You enjoyed yourself, didn't you? You couldn't tear your eyes away. Just couldn't stop staring at Trixie's big."

Her voice comes closer. "Thick. "

Closer. "Throbbing."

She whispers in your ear. "Cock."

"Could you?"

You swallow hard, your heart hammering in your chest. You can feel her, the warmth of her face, hovering just inches away. You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.

"What was that? The Great and Powerful Trixie could not hear you."

You... That...

Trixie chuckles, a low, knowing sound, and you feel her presence vanish from beside you. A sudden rush of disappointment fills you at the abrupt emptiness.

"Oh, is Trixie being too hard on her number one fan?" Behind you, you hear the shuffle of clothing, followed by the soft 'fumph' of cloth falling to carpet. "Then perhaps Trixie should make this easier for you." You nearly jump as a gently tingling magical aura envelopes you, the unicorn seizing your entire body and turning you to face her once more. "Is this what you want?"

Your heart nearly stops. Trixie stands before you in all of her glory, naked body on full display. Your eyes drink in the sight of her, committing every detail to memory. Her confidently smirking face, enjoying your obvious appreciation. Her arms, folded underneath her chest, bringing even greater focus to those full, perky, flawless breasts. Long, smooth, curvy legs, leading up to the small, tight pink flesh of her slit. And nearly obscuring that delicate feminine opening completely...

You let out a small, choked-off sound as you once again look upon the Great and Powerful Trixie's magnificent rod.

Though she's still flaccid, Trixie's pride easily dwarfs your own rapidly stiffening erection in length and girth alike. Inhaling deeply, you almost swear you can taste it in the air, potent musk almost seeming to demand you prostrate yourself and worship this sexual goddess as she so richly deserves. You bite your lip as your gaze wanders from the tip of her flat, fleshy cockhead, down to the rounded line of her medial ring, to those heavy, furry blue balls, just begging to be cupped and licked and sucked until they reward you with their precious, precious seed. You grunt in mild discomfort as your own dick presses painfully against the confining limits of your pants.

A sight which is not lost on Trixie. "Why, fan!" She laughs, voice thick with condescension. "Your body is much more honest than you are!" Her horn once again setting aglow, you find a softly shimmering magical field engulfing your clothing, quickly and deftly removing every last article of clothing from your body even as you stand there. The speed and ease with which Trixie performs the feat bespeaks a level of skill most unicorns can only dream of, and within seconds you stand uncomfortably exposed, shifting slightly from foot to foot as Trixie unabashedly eyes your prick.

"A-hmm, hmm, hmm... Is that all? Perhaps Trixie understands you a bit better now, fan. It only makes sense that someone of your... limitations would be so fascinated by a REAL dick." As she speaks, she lowers a hand, beginning to slowly, deliberately pump at her massive shaft, smirking all the wider as she watches your scope locked gaze upon her body. You feel yourself begin to pant, lightly, as that monstrous shaft slowly begins to engorge under the unicorn's delicate attentions, rising with excruciating slowness. Trixie sits upon the couch once more, still slowly stroking her meat, watching you as you watch her.

"You like it when Trixie gives you orders, don't you, fan?"

... Yes...

"Do want to touch Trixie?"

Yes...

"Do you love Trixie's fat cock?"

Yes! Oh God, yes!

She reclines, leaning back into the couch, and spreading her legs slightly to grant access to that towering shaft. "Prove it."

You almost dive for the couch, scrambling forward as fast as you can while falling to a suitable position on your knees in the process. The paralysis over you broken by your mistress's permission, it's finally time to show her the reverence she deserves. Your nerves alight as you slow down just enough to handle her cock with the care it so richly deserves, the simple contact with Trixie's hot, masculine flesh a reward all on its own. Inhaling deeply, you smile giddily, desperate to fill your lungs with as much of Trixie's musk as possible. Adoringly, worshipfully, you begin to gently massage and knead at Trixie's voluminous horse cock, your own desperately hard prick completely forgotten in your eagerness. Your hands glide up and down at the pony's length, exploring every rock-hard, veiny inch. She's warm, so very warm in your hands, and leaning in close, you can just barely smell the faint traces of spent cum from her session earlier today. Letting your hands dip lower, you take each of the unicorn's heavy, plump balls in your hands, cupping them lovingly, imagining the sperm churning inside of them. Burying your face in her sack, you moan in delight, once again deeply breathing in your beautiful, benevolent mistress.

Perfect, you moan out loud. She is absolutely, perfect.

A magical field chimes into existence around you, pulling gently but firmly away from Trixie's now fully-erect cock. "Mmn... Very good. Do you want more, pet?"

Yes, mistress!

She pauses at the title, as though surprised. Soon enough, however, her face creases in a pleased smirk. "Well then. Since you've been a very good boy today, you get a special reward." Your eyes widen in surprise as the still-active telekinetic field around your head flares to life once more, forcing your mouth open. "You get to suck your mistress's dick." Without another word, she pushes your head into her lap.

Your jaw stretches to accept Trixie's cock, discomfort warring with the righteous buzz of pleasure you take from servicing the mare's mighty tool. She tastes wonderful, strong and hard and smooth and hot and so very, very powerful. Distantly, some part of your mind tries to tell you how wrong this all is - how you shouldn't be doing this - but that voice is small, and far away, and unimportant. Trixie, perfect, beautiful, wonderful Trixie... she is here, and real, and so very, very, very right. You moan around the cock in your mouth, and feel as much as hear Trixie's satisfied "Ahhh...!" as the vibrations stimulate her massive fuck stick. You can't smile - your mouth being otherwise occupied - but feel a burst of warmth shoot through you nonetheless, happy to have pleased your mistress.

Trixie's magical grip on your head dissipates, and you take advantage of your regained control to plunge your head down further on her shaft, nearly gagging yourself on thick pony dick. As Trixie bottoms out in your mouth, you swirl your tongue all around her shaft, trying earnestly to please her as much as possible. Your hands quickly join in - Trixie is much too big to take all of her in your mouth, but that can be an asset in its own way. Needing both hands to appropriately service Trixie's impressive girth, you begin pumping at your mistress's cock in time with the bobbing of your head up and down at her tip. Trixie grunts, rewarding your efforts with a thick dollop of precum, and you eagerly shorten the bobs of your head to suckle lovingly at her flare. Trixie's pre is surprisingly sweet, and you use a hand to smear as much of it about her cockhead as you can, licking it all clean eagerly, cherishing every gulp.

"Mmmngh... You're quite the talented little cocksucker, pet. If you keep this up, Trixie may just have to keep you... " Her voice grows rougher. Hungrier. "Would you like that, pet? You want to be the Great and Powerful Trixie's personal cock warmer?"

She doesn't wait for a reply, however. No longer content to allow you to set your own pace, you find a pair of hands coming to rest firmly on each side of your head. Before you can react, Trixie pulls down hard, burying her length in your tight throat with a single thrust, choking you on her enormous phallus. Gagging, you reflexively struggle, flailing, but Trixie's grip is strong.

"Y-yes! Just like that! Take it all, you little bitch!"

Trixie pulls her hips back just slightly, and you cough, gasping for air after the surprise attack. Your mistress holds your head firmly in place, not allowing you to retreat. As soon as your breathing begins to steady, she thrusts her hips forward again, once more completely filling your mouth with thick horse cock. This time, you are a bit better prepared, and brace yourself to accept the heavy thrust, your tongue gliding along the bottom of Trixie's shaft as she enters you. The unicorn moans, quickly setting up a rhythm, fucking your face with rising urgency.

"Yeah, you're loving every second of this, aren't you? Must be... dream come true... for a slut like you..." The showmare continues her thrusts, heavy, furry balls slapping against your chin now with the intensity of her movements. Helpless, you have little choice but to accept your rutting, Trixie's thrusts now coming too fast and hard to even attempt to service her. Your eyes water from the forcefulness of the unicorn's movements as you are reduced to nothing more than a warm hole for your mistress to sheathe her cock in, and the realization sends a shock of sheer, shameful joy racing through your entire body.

Trixie pants unevenly now, her hands helping shove your head back down onto her prick with every push, fucking your face for all she's worth. You feel her cock begin to flare out in your mouth, stretching your jaw to its limit, and you hear her hiss through suddenly gritted teeth.

"Here it- here it comes... don't you waste a single drop...!"

And then, with a long, feminine cry, Trixie mashes your head into her lap, cumming powerfully down your throat.

Warmth floods your mouth immediately, Trixie's sheer volume easily matching her prodigious size. Just like her pre before it, Trixie's seed is oddly sweet, and you find yourself savoring the taste. Before you have any real time to enjoy yourself however, her dick twitches again, dumping another load of gooey unicorn cum into you. This time you have no choice but to swallow immediately, the heavy load flowing easily down your throat. You marvel at the way it seems to warm you all the way down, depositing soothingly in your belly. A happy, satisfied feeling suffuses you, and you continue to gulp hungrily as Trixie's orgasm continues, spurt after spurt of spunk sliding down your throat. The unicorn continues to hold your head in a vice grip, locking you in place on her rod as she dumps her potent sperm into you.

Several long, satiating moments later, Trixie finally relaxes her grip on your head with a sigh, sliding back slightly in her seat and pulling her dick from your mouth. A long, unbroken strand of cum extends from her cumslit to your mouth. The unicorn smirks at your dazed, submissively lowered gaze, your shoulders still heaving lightly with exertion. With surprising gentleness, a hand runs over your hair, petting your head.

"Not bad, pet. Not bad."

Her hand slides under your chin, taking you firmly in hand, and forces your gaze up to meet hers.

"But Trixie is not even close to satisfied yet."

The magical push isn't harsh, but it's sudden and it's firm, and it's more than enough to send you tumbling onto your back away from Trixie. The unicorn uses the room to stand, staring imperiously down at you, her full, perky breasts on full display thanks to her straight-backed, confident posture. Still, something nags at you, and after another moment your eyes bulge in shock as you realize what it is.

Even in the wake of that massive orgasm, her glistening cock has not even begun to soften.

Trixie laughs, the sharp sound mocking you as she sees you finally pick up on it. "Didn't Trixie tell you, pet? She is far, far more than even the most virile of stallions. Or did you honestly think that YOU could outlast The Great and Powerful Trixie?"

Looking up at your mistress now, in all of her great and terrible glory, a sliver of that same exhilarating fear that brought you here tonight finds its way into your heart once again. She's a monster. She's too much. Too strong. Too big. You can't handle her. She'll break you.

And part of you desperately, desperately wants to be broken.

"No more games." Trixie tells you commandingly, hunger creeping back into her voice. "No more foreplay. Are you ready, pet? Ready to become Trixie's slave? Ready to swear yourself to Trixie, to pledge yourself to my pleasure, to become my toy for as long as I care to keep you?"

Yes. Yes, you are.

"Then beg." She whispers harshly, gratingly. "Beg me to fuck your ass."

The words tumble out of you effortlessly, all the easier for their sincerity. You implore her, plead with her. You beg Trixie to take you, to claim you, to make you her cock sleeve. To do anything she wants with you any time she wants, so long as she promises to give your life meaning in properly servicing her.

Trixie's eyes unfocus, breathing going heavy as she takes in your words. Her masculinity seems to twitch right before your eyes.

"On your knees, slave."

Trixie wastes no time - the very instant you finish positioning yourself, you feel the warmth of her body radiating against your own. Her hands come down on your hips, and you yelp as a spell probes your depths, something warm and slippery squirting into you hurriedly. Once Trixie is satisfied with the results, the sensation fades. For a brief, eternal moment, there is only the weight of the unicorn leaning into you, her breasts upon your back, and her breathing heavy in your ear. Then, you feel it, the head of that monstrous shaft probing at your entrance, lining up with your pucker. At last, she finds it, and you gasp as you feel her head press firmly against your trembling asshole.

Trixie's whisper is gentle, and for just a moment, you hear not your mistress, but your old, dear friend.

"Try to relax."

And then, she slowly but insistently forces her way inside of you.

You inhale sharply, continuously, in a bizarre reverse-gasp as your ring stretches around Trixie's bulbous cock head, letting out a sharp cry of satisfaction once it pops into place inside of you. She's so big, so big, she's already stretching you and she's only barely inside, there's no way you can ha-aaaaaaaaaah!

The thought vanishes, along with every other thought. Trixie pulls you back onto her length, impaling you on her rod, inch after inch of fat mare cock slowly disappearing into your ass. Trixie moans in approval, delighting in the hot, tight feel of your flesh clinging to her rod, walking her hips forward in time with her hands pulling you back onto her. Already you feel completely, totally full, stuffed with pony cock, but Trixie shows no signs of stopping. Her prick widens out gradually as it goes, spreading you obscenely the deeper it penetrates. Feeling her width suddenly, abruptly increase, you let out a sigh of relief. You are honestly amazed you managed to hilt her inside of you, but you aren't complaining.

With an extra hard grunt of exertion, Trixie pulls you back into her lap at the same time she slams her hips forward - and your mouth shoots open in a silent scream as her medial ring, and several more inches with it, slip into your already over-stuffed depths.

Basking in her triumph, Trixie remains inside of you, smiling down at her prize as you try to adjust to the monstrous cock filling your body. Your arms and legs tremble slightly under the strain of sheathing your mistress, your muscles eagerly and involuntary clenching around her, massaging her, milking her. Eventually, Trixie reluctantly withdraws from your depths. Her cock slides out of you, her passage much easier thanks to her earlier stretching of your hole, and you cry out in dismay at the horribly empty feeling she leaves behind. Stopping with just the head of her cock left within you, she growls.

"Who do you love, slave?"

Trixie...

In a flash, Trixie thrusts forward, her earlier care forgotten, burying her entire length inside of you in the blink of an eye. You cry out, unable to help yourself, fingers tightening aimlessly into fists against the floor beneath you.

Trixie pulls out again, faster this time. "Who do you belong to?"

Trixie!

You scream out in pleasure once again, the burning pain from Trixie's ministrations rapidly fading in the face of the overwhelming pleasure.

This time, you clench down desperately as Trixie pulls halfway out, trying in vain to keep her inside of you. "And who is going to pump that tight ass of yours full of nice," She thrusts, pushing into you so hard that your body shakes from the impact. "Hot," She thrusts again, her ring slipping in and out of you on every push, punishing and rewarding you in equal measure every time. "Gooey... " She pulls completely out of you this time, letting her cock glisten proudly in the air, before she rams the entire length into you as hard as she can, completely bottoming out in your welcoming depths. "Cum!"

Trixie! Trixie! TRIXIE!

Trixie fucks you brutally, pounding your body with every bit of strength her limbs possess. Flesh slaps against flesh again and again, your ass rippling under her forceful strikes, and her balls slap against you wonderfully every time she buries her rod inside of you. Your entire body feels both numb and alive with pleasure at the same time, a thin line of drool escaping your mouth unnoticed under your mistress's merciless rutting. Trixie leans over you, broadening her stance and wrapping her hands around your waist, balancing against your back. Her breasts press into your back as she changes her angle, shortening her thrusts but keeping her cock wedged much more deeply inside of you. Her breathing is heavy, right in your ear. For the second time this night, you feel her cock begin to flare out inside of you, stretching your ass to its fullest.

Trixie's thrusting slows ever so slightly, the broadening of her flare making the task increasingly difficult. The showmare simply hisses through her teeth however, redoubling her efforts, jack-hammering you for all she's worth.

"Tr- Trixie, is... going... to..."

This is it. This is what you've been waiting for. What you NEED. What you've always needed, and you just never realized before. Wordlessly, silently, you beg your mistress to finish, to finish what she started, to take you and make you hers. It comes as a shock, therefore, when she suddenly, violently pulls free of you, your ass gaping open as she leaves it. Before you can react, however, you find yourself once again seized in a magical field. As quickly as she can, Trixie spins you about, plucking you from your hands and knees and depositing you lying down on the floor, facing her. Immediately, she lifts your legs up over her shoulders, plunging into the tight embrace of your depths once more. Her breasts bounce freely with the bucking of her hips, eyes wild with passionate affection as they roam all over you, watching your face intently as she fucks you senseless. Trembling with effort, the unicorn pulls out of you just long enough to thrust back inside, burying her length as deep as it will go, battering your body with the force of her movements. She bucks against you once, twice, three times, grinding her cock inside of you at the end of every push.

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" Trixie screams as she hilts herself inside of you and cums.

Your own body is immediately racked by an orgasm of its own, muscles clenching down hard on your mistress's throbbing shaft. You want it all, everything she has to give, and Trixie does not disappoint. Wave after wave of soothing warmth fills you, hard spurts driving the mare's load deep inside. The natural plug of her flare insures that none of her seed escapes to pool back outside of you, not a single drop wasted. If you thought she tasted good, it's nothing compared to this - every slick, smooth burst of the unicorn's essence within you sets off a fresh burst of pleasure in your brain. You smile dopily through your delirium, happily accepting all that your mistress has to give. Nothing you've experienced has ever felt so right. You pat your stomach softly, almost swearing you could feel it expanding slightly under the sheer volume of spunk Trixie has filled you with.

The unicorn herself, finally, finally spent, collapses forward on top of you with a sigh. She pulls her cock free of you with a slight 'pop' and a wince, a backflow of spent cum almost immediately drizzling out of your abused hole in its wake. Her usually immaculate countenance is a wreck - long, gorgeous hair stands disheveled, her body covered in beads of sweat. The confident smirk that seemed such a permanent fixture on her face is gone, replaced by a sleepy, blissful smile.

Yet, of all the surprises you have seen from this mare today, the greatest has only just arrived.

Climbing onto your prone, spent body, Trixie wraps her arms around you in a tight hug. With a soft, radiant smile, she places a long, gentle kiss on your lips. She collapses into your chest with a sigh, arms still possessively wrapped around you, her cock pressing against your own. Almost at once, her eyes flicker shut, and you hear the deep, relaxed breathing of sleep.

She won't be staying in Manehattan, you know. She's a traveling performer. Always has been. Give it another week, maybe two, and you were sure she'd be off to her next destination.

Eh, fuck it. Manehattan was getting boring anyway.

Author's Note

Special thanks to the folks at Rule34, who requested this story. I hope you have enjoyed it.