“SHINING ARMOR!” the cry would have echoed throughout the castle, if the silencing spells on the doors weren’t quite so potent. “SHINY!” the Princess screamed again, “Oh, YES!” The last yell drew on for quite some time, leaving the thankfully hypothetical eavesdropper in no doubt that somepony was thoroughly enjoying Shining Armor’s presence, or at least the thought of it.
Once she has calmed down a little, Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, would very clearly like to inform the reader that she is not in the habit of visualising her brother when she masturbates. Today was purely a one off, and there were many, many other stallions her imagination could conjure up. Nor had anything indecent ever happened between the two in real life. She’d only seen his erect member twice in her life, both times when she was really too young to understand how important it was, earning each of the siblings a very clear lesson in knocking before entering a room.
But just once, she hadn’t been able to shake that stubborn image from her mind, and then had been too lost in her imagination to care. Maybe she’d only seen it twice, but that was once more than any other stallion, and so this particular fantasy had an edge of realism that wasn’t dulled by a somewhat disappointing memory. Shining was anything but disappointing; she didn’t know if it was just because she’d been so young back then, but the girth she remembered was incredible. She smiled happily as she thought about it, sighed into her pillow, and the pale glow around her horn vanished in happy exhaustion.
She was actually quite proud of herself; very few unicorns had the self control to manage any kind of magic once they were close to the edge. Most mares probably contented themselves with using their hooves. But Twilight had more determination and more magic than most – sometimes it seemed like she had more magic than everyone else she knew – and she could keep her horn lit right until she exploded. It was incredible.
Usually, it was enough to satisfy any urges her body presented her with. Now, however, the princess was in heat, and it seemed that her recent transformation had enhanced her hormones as well as the more obvious changes. Barely an hour later, every breath of breeze across her body was making her shiver with lust, and it was impossible to concentrate on her work.
She had a lot of work to do, some of which involved poring over ancient books. But she couldn’t focus, because her mind took every opportunity to think about sex. Even innocuous words like ‘long’ and ‘hard’ sent her back to thinking about one day when she had been so young, bursting excitedly into Shining’s room to tell him about some particularly amusing fact she’d read and seeing him out of breath, stroking his magnificent–
Twilight Sparkle cut off that thought as soon as she realised she was unthinkingly starting to touch herself again. Was it too much to ask, that a regal princess could go like five minutes without living through memories of her brother’s humongous stallionhood? She told herself she only remembered it being so huge because she’d been so small then. She’d thought it was gross, but what would she have thought if she’d known how important things like that would come to seem once she was grown?
She was sure that if she’d understood back then, she would have been more careful to mind his privacy. She might never even have seen his titanic, throbbing member, and now her fantasies could be filled with healthy, wholesome stallions who she might actually have some chance of fucking. Although all the foresight in the world wouldn’t have stopped her from seeking refuge in a disused storeroom at the library one day when she was a young filly and even the sound of other ponies’ pages turning in the library seemed designed to distract her from her book. She couldn’t have stopped Shining Armor and his marefriend choosing the same room to hide in when their adolescent hormones got too much for them to handle.
It was strange now, she couldn’t even remember if it had been Cadance she’d seen that day, or if Shiny had been with somepony else before. She could remember the force with which her brother had almost thrown her into a room they thought deserted, and then charged forward to claim his prize. She remembered in exquisite detail how surprised she’d been to see his member, throbbing like a living thing, and how her gentle big brother was suddenly powerful and commanding, while still being just as caring as he’d ever been. He’d taken a few moments to realise there was anyone there, and little Twilight had stared in naive confusion at his cock, taking in every detail. She’d wondered in her innocence if it folded up somehow to remain unseen, not knowing how it really worked. She’d been excited then, but hadn’t really understood, and had no opportunity to ask what was going on in the chaos of yelling, anger and apology the twin responses to her confusion.
If she’d known back then how important it was to have a cock inside you, she would probably have bolted straight away so as not to interrupt the two who needed it so much more than she did. Or she might have hunkered down behind a battered crate and watched, unnoticed, learning all her big brother’s little tricks so she could one day teach them to a lover of her own. She never doubted that Shining Armor would know exactly how to please a mare, would do everything right. It was a mixture of the strange power that seemed to take him over and the devoted attention to detail that seemed to rule every part of his life. He’d be strong enough to take control, but gentle enough not to hurt.
Twilight could just imagine how the scene would have played out if Shiny had worried about his little sister’s state of mind after the mare had bolted. He would do the right thing, even if he was still engorged and finding it tough to think. She would have just stared, wondering what this thing was that had so changed his demeanour, and desperate to understand. She would have felt her heart racing as she thought about it, and a little tingle from parts of her body she didn’t yet understand. Nothing like the surge of desire that she felt years later, just from thinking of a scene that had never played out, could never have really happened.
She could imagine it, though. Without a second thought, her horn began to flicker as she applied a gentle vibration to her clit, and then focused on the images in her mind. Sniffing at the unfamiliar part of his body, asking what it was. His embarrassment as he prayed for it to go down, but the shame just returned it to full stiffness and made it bob against his abs. She would have asked if it was some kind of parasite, changing the way he thought. She knew the thought had crossed her mind, as she’d just been reading about such disgusting creatures. But if she’d asked him, she could have got the answer from his own lips instead of looking it up in a medical text the following day. He would have told her that it was a part of him, but that it felt so good when touched that he sometimes forgot himself. And not really understanding, the filly Twilight would have reached out to touch… no, to lick, while her muzzle was already so close, staring without really understanding. Maybe she’d use her magic too, and give his balls a little vibration while she started to suck on his shaft.
He’d try to protest at first, to explain why it wasn’t appropriate. But she hadn’t known back then, and he’d only be able to utter a low moan after a few flicks of her tongue. She kept on going, and he started to thrust harder, knowing what was coming but unable to stop himself. Twilight sucked obliviously, working by instinct but spurred on by the joy in her brother’s voice. She felt his cock flare in her mouth and almost gagged, not knowing what to think. She pulled back, wondering if she’d somehow injured this sensitive part of Shiny’s body, and looked uncomprehendingly at the now-flat tip, and then…
Princess Twilight gasped and screamed as another orgasm shook her body, hooves and magic working in perfect harmony to push her over the edge. For a moment her thoughts settled like white flakes in a snowglobe, and she felt a pang of guilt over satisfying herself before her brother was finished. Even with a figment of her imagination, her instincts were always to be generous.
Her body’s demands satisfied yet again, Twilight started to wonder if she would be better off leaving the castle after all. She had important research to do, but it wasn’t particularly urgent and as long as her thoughts kept drifting back to sex she was making no progress at all. She could always put it off until next month, when she would be able to think clearly. Today, it could be more productive to do something she needed to do in the town. It was still a little early to start preparations for Hearth’s Warming, but she had volunteered to be on the committee organising the celebrations this year.
If she was going to spend next month catching up on her studies, she would have to spend this month talking to all the people who would need to know their roles. With other ponies around, it wouldn’t be possible to lose herself so often. She was starting to realise that abstinence wouldn’t be possible with her newly-enhanced alicorn hormones. But she could still hold off until she’d finished some section of her duties, and treat it like a little reward.
Half an hour of frenzied masturbation later (and thankfully not involving thoughts of her brother), she was finally organised enough to go outside and get some work done. Knowing that she was in public would do wonders for her self-control, surely.
What could possibly go wrong?
2 - The Trials and Tribulations of a Princess in the Street
Twilight Sparkle realised that she’d made a mistake by the time she reached the end of the street. A few years ago, when she was an ordinary unicorn mare, she would have had no problem keeping her urges under control. A few decades before, even some hypothetical alicorn in heat could have done her shopping in peace, if maybe needing to find herself a moment of solitude to collect her thoughts once or twice. But Ponyville had changed a lot in the last twenty years, and Twilight was only just coming to understand the traditions she and her friends had helped to overturn.
Once upon a time, Ponyville had been strictly segregated. Mares ran the shops, and all of the Mayor’s important officials were mares. Some people said that even the word ‘mayor’ was a contraction of the earlier title ‘head mare’. So when anypony was in a certain condition, she could happily visit the town and take care of whatever work or day-to-day business she needed without any chance she’d pick up on the distinctive scent of a stallion’s sweat. Some ladies, it was said, simply couldn’t control themselves if there was a hint of male pheromones within half a mile. Meanwhile, the stallions stayed in their own homes, or did mysterious jobs that the mares knew nothing about in male-only settlements away from the town. Whether it was in the sweat lodges on the outskirts of the Everfree Forest, with the wandering Cloud Caravans, or at the Barracks of the Royal Guard, the stallions would be kept out of the way where they couldn’t cause any trouble.
For many years, some had protested at this treatment. It was like the tribal days all over again, every stallion being told that they weren’t permitted to interact with the opposite sex, that they had no communication skills anyway, that a stallion’s place was in the home. Eventually, civilisation began to work towards a compromise. Some stallions were allowed to do their own shopping, if there was no mare to do it for them. Shops that would welcome them put up discreet signs, and the storekeepers would take time off for any days on which they felt unable to maintain a proper degree of decorum. And at the same time, some stallions opened up stores of their own, and the law only required them to advertise the fact with a sign in the window so that the less strong-willed mares could shop somewhere else.
It had been Twilight herself who came up with a slogan about the weak of mind staying home. For her first estrus, and most years after that, she’d felt nothing more than a distracting urge to stare at the Royal Guards’ flanks; and maybe read a little literature that was more explicit than her usual tastes. Nobody could blame a mare for that, it was a perfectly normal part of nature. She’d thought that because it was easy for her, it would be the same for everyone. If a mare couldn’t control itself it must mean that her mind was deficient, or she had no morals, or she was just not making enough effort. So she’d pushed for the town to be open and accepting of everypony. Whether it was sex-crazed stud stallions like Raging Blossom (as long as they kept most of their activities behind consenting closed doors), shy guys like Satin Cloud who’d rather avoid the machismo of stallion camps, or female minds born in colts’ bodies like Pinkie Pie. Everyone was welcome in ponyville, everyone could spend time with whoever they wanted.
Except the mares who chose not to resist the influence of their hormonal cycles. Twilight thought that was quite fair, because it was obviously their own problem to get over, their own choice to make. But now she was an alicorn, and it seemed that as well as the obvious wings she was now endowed with longer life, keener senses, and super-powered hormones that could melt her finely honed mind into a puddle of lust. She’d become exactly the sort of pony she used to look down on, the weakest mind in town. Was it like this for everypony?
Still, she would be able to control herself in public for sure. She knew everypony was watching. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for the slightest little slip in her demeanour. If she couldn’t act normally now, it would be too humiliating to think about. She was sure, as she passed ponies she spoke to every day, that fear of that would be all the motivation she needed to stay focused on the things she had to do. She’d be like a stallion in a university storage closet, worrying about all the people walking past so much that he couldn’t get it up.
By the time she got to the end of the street, she could feel the pressure building up inside her. She had to touch, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to find somewhere out of the public eye to relieve this urge, but she focused on the people all around. She knew she couldn’t give in, and she could feel the determination stiffen inside her, pushing her forward. Every time the desire surged stronger, her need to remain decent thrust back in counterpoint, allowing her to just about keep control of her own body.
Now she was in a more densely populated place. She was aware of the steady dripping of desire down her legs, and pressed her thighs together tightly. She just hoped nobody would be able to see under her tail. She could see the faces of friends and acquaintances, and she could just imagine how shameful it would be if they noticed. But they didn’t bat an eyelid. Two mares chatted over tea without so much as glancing in her direction. A busy stallion…
Her introspection stopped, he careful analysis of the scene stopped. Shame faded in an instant, and she didn’t even think about it as she turned slightly away, looking back at the stallion so that he couldn’t meet her eye without getting a good view of her flanks. Her tail swished to one side, giving just one lucky guy a full view of her eager sex. She winked seductively at…
‘No!’ she berated herself. That was even worse than using her magic to pleasure herself in public. She couldn’t present herself like that, not to a sta– not to a pony who she knew wasn’t interested. She quickly dived into a side alley, hoping with all her heart that nobody had seen her acting like that. To have flashed and offered herself to Mr Cake of all ponies, it was practically unthinkable. Staying at home and trying to think her way out of this problem obviously wasn’t going to work, and hoping that the knowledge of everyone’s eyes on her would keep her libido down wasn’t an option as long as there was even one male, no matter who, in the crowd.
There was only one option left. She couldn’t let her work get so far behind, so she’d be rushing to complete her research and do the first preparations for the celebrations at the same time. She’d have to find some way to satisfy these urges, and hope that would make them fade a little.
Even here, in a back street that would see few people walking, she could pick up the scent of a stallion in the distance. She wished so much that she hadn’t been so eager to let them integrate into society, in her ignorant desire to let her friend be accepted. She had no way of knowing just how many mares had suffered the problems she was now facing, because she hadn’t even tried to understand their plight.
The scent got stronger and more distinct as she got closer. She hadn’t meant to follow it, but her legs seemed to act without any thought as she had been regretting her actions. The scent was strong as she got close, stronger than she’d ever noticed before. But after a moment, she came to realise that it wasn’t the scent of one stallion, but of several. And stale sweat too. Was there a gym down here, somewhere she’d never known about? That would be perfect, there was nothing like good exercise to get a guy in the mood for…
No!, she couldn’t act like that. She couldn’t go down and take advantage of some unsuspecting colt, or a stallion whose mind was as desperately confused as hers. It just wouldn’t be right, but her legs kept on moving.
Eventually she arrived by a sign. It wasn’t a gym, but a bar. Maybe. The sign was battered and stained with old beer and unguessable emissions to the point that the name ‘Twin Oaks’ was almost unreadable. It also had a crudely painted depiction of manly stallions posing. A gay bar? Or someone who’d thought of the particular needs of certain mares?
A quick sniff revealed that the doorposts were liberally smeared with stale sweat. That could explain the terrible state of the paintwork, and the general unpleasantness of the stink that sickened her even as she couldn’t help moving closer. Someone had deliberately marked the place with the sweat of stallions, and had done the same for weeks without washing it down. It was awful, but she couldn’t resist it.
“Oh, Celestia!” a tangle-maned black and red mare gasped as she opened the door, “I kinda been hoping you’d be here, babe. Your season’s got to come sooner or later.” Twilight stared in shock, but she knew she couldn’t possibly hide it. She was standing with her hind legs apart, tail raised, and she knew there wasn’t a hope in the world of presenting a respectable pose with all the pheromones in the air. Knowing the scientific basis of these urges didn’t help at all when it came to suppressing them.
“The Princess is in season,” the uncouth mare hollered back to the inside of the bar, making even Applejack seem like a dignified lady by comparison, “See if Brick and Indisputable got any stamina left. This filly needs it bad.” and then she turned to meet Twilight’s horrified stare, “Don’t worry yourself, hon. You look like you got a need, and where there’s a need, there’s someone to fill you up. Discretion is our watchword, I assure ya, nobody ever needs know. My daddy told me growing up about the day the Princess stepped into our place, and he swore me to be secret even back then.”
The madame – Velvet Desire, she called herself – carried on prattling in that vulgar tone as Twilight followed her inside. Saying things like the longevity of an alicorn meant they couldn’t go into heat every year, or they’d be up to their necks in children, but that when it came it was enough to make up for twenty years of calm. That in Velvet’s father’s time, a princess had come in twice before she learned a magic that would let her wrest control back from her hormones. That there was no shame in indulging what nature demanded, and it was good for you to play once in a while.
Downstairs, Desire didn’t lead her into the bar, but a side room with no furniture but cushions. And a rack at one side, with gags and suggestively shaped object, and – Twilight gasped, in shock or lust she didn’t know – the most taboo of all items, an antique riding crop. She could smell a stallion approaching, and her legs wouldn’t let her run away.
She couldn’t run. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t fight these urges.
She couldn’t wait.
