Author's Note
This story contains weird fetishy sex stuff, and probably not in the way you expect or want. But this time, I'm not even slightly sorry. Way too much fun to write.
Thanks to 8th for the glorious prompt that sparked this atrocity.
-Pencil
The role suits her...
You’ve been in Equestria exactly one week before you receive that fateful letter which changes everything.
Spike delivers the telegram like a good little child slave one bright morning, fire-vomiting it into your hands like a mother bird feeding its young. This time, you don’t even bother trying to hide the disgust. While most things in this sweet and colorful land seem to be tidy and near perfect, a regurgitating dragon who talks like he’s going through his third round of puberty feels...wrong. The first time you saw him vomit a message, you noted that all the other ponies just smiled, as if nothing was the matter, whereas you couldn’t imagine touching anything like that.
Well, you were now, and you weren’t happy about it. You manage to thank him, even though your face shows nothing but revulsion.
“Er…thanks Spike.”
He beams at you.
“Don’t mention it!” he says brightly, and again you notice how much he sounds like he swallowed a tiny clarinet a while back and has never bothered to get it removed.
Absolutely disgusting.
You watch him leave, then read over the note carefully. It instructs you to come immediately to Princess Celestia’s castle, alone, and to be sure to notify Twilight Sparkle upon your arrival.
To be honest, you’re not entirely sure why you’re being summoned. You know these horses have some sort of weird monarchy system, and that their ruler is a white princess with both a horn and wings, and probably a fuckload of magic besides. White supremacy aside, she does seem like a decent enough ruler. So why on earth would she be calling for you? Doesn’t she have more important things to do? Still, a summons is a summons, and you make preparations to leave immediately for Canterlot. You’re curious, excited, and more than a little confused, but hey…what else is new? You’ve been that way ever since your arrival in this strange place.
Besides, nothing could get weirder than cartoony ponies who sing at the drop of a hat and look like they’re made of play-dough, right?
Yeah, you just go on thinking that, buddy.
As Twilight leaves you in the main hall outside the throne room, you notice that she gives you a little look of jealousy and suspicion. You wonder if maybe this summoning is a rare event, and the thought of it makes you again a little uncomfortable, to say the least. Maybe you’re in trouble! You hadn’t thought of that before…
Maybe she intends to banish you!
Maybe she intends to transform you into a pony!
Maybe she wants to examine your strange, unusual form to see what makes you tick, how you’re put together!
Ok, that one might not be so bad given the right situation and mood lighting, but this not knowing thing is killing you. And your boner.
You decide there’s nothing for it but to go on in, and the guards carefully move aside to let you pass. You study their faces for any clues, but they’re super stoic. Whatever’s going on, you’re not going to guess it from eying them. With a final deep breath, you push open the massive golden door to the throne-room.
Inside, you see some of the most absurd, beautiful, and fake looking architecture you’ve ever witnessed. Everything is gold and bright colors and swirls, like Lisa Frank herself vomited the color palette. Honestly, it looks like a nine year old designed a doll’s castle, and everyone said “awww, look at that, she’s trying, let’s leave it that way.” It makes you feel all fuzzy and mushy inside, and it also makes you want to hire an architect to tear the place apart.
At the front of the room you spy a large white form sitting in a plush and gold throne. Her head is high, and her immaculate rainbow mane ripples in a nonexistent breeze. The jeweled crown atop her head shimmers as it encircles a horn that looks like it could plow clean through your ribcage and out the other side should the owner desire it. She’s roughly your height, so you’d be looking eye to eye with her, which is far larger than any of the other ponies you’ve met so far. But somehow she seems larger than that, larger than life and expectations.
You suddenly feel very small and insignificant, and you bow almost out of instinct more than anything else. You can see why ponies worship this thing.
“Your highness,” you say as reverently as possible, hating the sound of your own beta voice.
As if just noticing you, she regally turns her head, looks you up and down a moment. Then she smiles gently.
“Ah, the human who just arrived in Ponyville,” she says, in a motherly and delicate voice. “Is that correct?”
You raise your head and straighten your posture, then give her a simple nod.
“Yes, I came as soon as I got your message. It’s Princess Celestia, right? Or is there something else I should call you?”
You see her smile flicker for a moment, as if she’s unsure about something, but it’s instantly back before you can take too much note of it.
“Princess Celestia will be fine,” she says. “And you are Anon?”
“Yeah, that’s fine for me too.”
“Very well, then I am pleased to say we’ve made our introduction. Tell me, you are a human from Earth, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“And you have not been here very long?”
“Right again.”
She’s done her homework on you. That’s…not creepy at all. She seems to consider this, still upholding a warm and genial smile. You stand in awkward silence a moment or two, waiting for her to say something more, but she remains quiet. You fidget nervously. You glance around the gaudy room, you examine your shoes to see if they hold the meaning of life somewhere in the stitching (they don’t.) After what feels like an eternity, you finally venture to speak.
“Uh…Princess Celestia?”
It’s like you’ve shaken her awake from a deep slumber. Her head snaps up and her large, heavily lined eyes lock on you once more. Her smile regains some strength, and she slowly stands up from her throne.
“Anon, I would like to speak with you privately,” she says clearly, nodding to her guards.
They seem to understand the simple command, and with a quick salute, they turn and exit the throne room, shutting the door tightly behind them. You feel a sense of apprehension growing in your gut as you hear the click and slide of the door being locked. Before you can think about it much or prepare, you’re alone with the Princess.
Huh, that sounds like the beginning to some sort of porn movie, doesn’t it? You try to push the inappropriate thought from your mind, best not to be thinking such things around a princess.
You look her up and down, once more trying to find some clue or hint as to what the fuck is going on around here. As if in answer to your questioning gaze, she approaches you, shimmering mane and tail continuing to ripple through the air as if she’s underwater. You’re struck by how lovely she is, how utterly beautiful. You’re also struck by how easily she could kill you right now, and that given her royal status she could probably cover it up pretty easily.
It’s an unusual contradiction of fear and arousal. It’s also an interesting contradiction of wanting to wet your pants…and also adjust them a little.
As she draws near, you can make out a strange sort of eagerness in her expression, almost a yearning or lust. Does…does she look a little seductive to you? Is she…coming onto you? You’re sure that can’t be it, and yet…she is walking with a certain sway of her hips, a certain coquettish look on her face.
“P-princess?” you stammer out. “Wha-“
“Hush,” she says, holding a hoof to your lips to silence you. “Not here.”
Her hoof is cool against your face, and you can hear that all formality and regality has left her voice. In fact, she sounds almost desperate now. She glances around the room as if she might be watched, then beckons you to follow her. Again, the way she moves and gestures to you with one hoof seems so suggestive. But really, you must be imagining it, it can’t be.
You follow the princess down a small stone corridor behind her throne. It winds past locked doors, stained glass windows, and small flaming sconces set into the wall. It feels like you walk for miles, in complete silence, before she at last stops in front of a simple wooden door. She again glances right and left, then pulls the door easily open and gently motions you in after her.
Like a moth chasing a weirdly sexy flame, you follow.
To your great surprise, what greets you is a simple, plain, and cozy little bedroom. Her bedroom, you realize. The princess has brought your to her private bedroom. You can’t suppress a gulp of nerves.
Why would she do this unless…
Does…does Princess Celestia have a thing for humans? Is that what this is all about? As you turn to look at her once more, you can see an unmistakable roll of her shoulders and flank as she saunters cooly towards you, intent and purpose apparent in her expression. You gulp again, quickly getting more and more sure that these is something honestly sexual going on right now. Holy fuck, this IS the beginning of some kind of porn, isn’t it.
“Anon I…I need your help,” she says softly, a whisper like the coo of a dove.
“Ok,” you stammer dumbly.
“This is something that’s very important to me, something I desperately need. But you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone.”
“I promise,” you say without hesitation.
Hey, if a princess wants you to be her secret sexual plaything, what are you going to do, say no? Who cares if it’s all on the downlow, getting a little action from royalty is definitely a feather in your cap and an honor for your dick. Not to mention you haven’t gotten off in a week, so there’s also that.
She smiles as you agree.
“Good,” she says. “This might be…a little difficult for you. A little confusing. But I promise I’ll walk you through it all, I’ll explain everything. And I’ll be very gentle about it, so don’t be afraid. Ok?”
“Ok,” you say again, and you’re sure you can hear a little tremble of desire in your voice.
She lets out a little giggle, and you can see her posture has changed some. She looks…relieved? Yes, definitely relieved, but also a little nervous herself. Maybe it’s been a while for her.
“W-when is the last time you-“ you manage to say as she tenderly caresses your face with one hoof.
She just shakes her head slowly, batting her large lovely eyes at you.
“Oh, never,” she says. “You’ll be the first person I’ve done this with.”
You blink at her, and you feel your jaw drop agape a little at her words. Wait, is she a virgin? You’re going to be her first time? A sense of pride swells in your chest and in your cock with this thought. Hell, she won’t even know if you’re bad at it! You can just have at, and she’s bound to enjoy it.
“Then…I’ll be gentle too,” you try to say comfortingly, unable to match the grace with which she said it earlier.
You get the sense you need to be tender and caring here, do the making love thing rather than the fucking thing, It’s not something you’re a huge fan of, but it makes sense that gentle intimate sex would be the kind these lovey-dovey horses are into. You can ease her into the kinky stuff later. You gingerly touch her hoof where it caresses your face and she smiles.
“Thank you Anon,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”
She slowly steps away from you a few paces, a little int he direction of the bed. Her hoof trails along your cheek, down your neck to press off lightly from your chest. You follow her a step or two, but she holds up a hoof for you to wait, and you stop. She blushes at you sheepishly.
“Promise you’ll be able to handle it?”
“I promise,” you say. You can barely hide the desire from your voice.
As you watch, she turns coyly away from you, looking over one shoulder. She moves gracefully, swaying, like she’s putting on a little show, she even rises up onto her back legs some, so slender and pale in the low light of her bedroom. You’re hard and at the ready, and your fumbling hands are already at work unbuckling your pants.
This is really happening. You’re about to fuck a pony princess.
Her hooves stretch up over her head, then down to her back and…
A sudden gleam of metal catches your eye, and you freeze. What was that? What was that…silver thing near the back of her neck?
Before you can try to figure it out fully, you see her reach up to it with one hoof, then pull downwards in one slow, long motion. As she does you can hear a low, almost distant buzzing noise, like the sound of a drunken honeybee. And even more distressing, it looks like the skin and fur is suddenly parting down her back in one smooth line. Like she’s cutting herself open.
Holy shit, maybe she’s already into the kinky stuff after all. And it’s the stuff you like! But no, that’s not it…
As you watch, frozen and dumbfounded, Princess Celestia draws her hoof all the way down to the top of her rear, tearing open the skin and hair along her back as she does. When she at last moves her hoof away, you can see the further gleam of metal, and your brain begins to register exactly what you’re seeing here.
Is…is that a zipper?
Just as your mind begins to wrap itself around that notion, you get thrown another curveball. The gap along her spine widens, suddenly gaping like a great, horrible, metal-toothed mouth, and out of it begins to emerge a shape. You’re so dismayed and sickened, that at first you don’t even recognize the form. The strange mass of sweaty hair. The sloped shoulders. The narrow, elbowed arms, and the familiar shoulder blades and neck…
This form…is human.
The form of Princess Celestia falls away, hitting the ground around the narrow human frame with a sickening thud of cloth and metal. Her wings crinkle and splay out across the floor looking broken and unnatural. You look down at the now lifeless head of the Princess, then back at this strange shape that has climbed like some satanic man-spider out of her back. The human turns slowly to look at you, and you recognize the plump waist, the curve of breasts, the overly-thick cellulite-flecked thighs.
The human is female. A stout, short, overly plump female in a skintight wetsuit, with greasy slicked back hair. She turns her pale face towards you, smiles weakly, and raises one hand in a sheepish wave.
“H-hi Anon,” she says, in the same exact voice as Princess Celestia.
Your mind tries to catch up, fails, and resorts instead to obscenities.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” you erupts at her.
She winces and pouts her lower lip at you a little.
“Hey, you said you could handle it!”
“WHAT THE ACTUAL T-REX DARWIN JESUS FUCK IS THIS?!”
“W-well…” she stutters out. “My birth name is Amy, but I stopped using that a long time ago. See, when I was back on earth I was part of this group of people known as otherkin, and I’ve always known that I wasn’t really a human bing inside. I’m really a unicorn in a humans body, the spirit of a winged alicorn trapped in a simple human form. When I realized that, I decided I needed to represent my true form somehow, and I built a suit of my fursona, Celestia.”
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
“I can see how the suit might be confusing, it is rather complex,” she says, as if she didn’t hear your froth-mouthed screaming. “I slowly added animatronics to it, so the mane is always moving and so the eyes blink and everything. It was a labor of love. Anyway, when I was transported here, I figured I’d finally come to a place where my soul was free to exist as it should! What’s more, Alicorns are basically gods here, and when they saw me, this super tall thing, they decided I was a sister to all their other gods, and a rightful ruler of their realm! It was amazing, it’s like things were totally meant to be!”
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
“And I didn’t seem to age at all which was, you know, like totally awesome! No getting old gross, no having to adjust the size of the suit. So I could just be a magical princess for all of eternity and rule over everything! It should have been perfect but…”
She pauses and turns away, biting her lower lip fretfully like this next part is hard to talk about. Meanwhile you can hear your heart and breathing pounding, as hard as your father on his most recent whore purchase. What is she even saying? What do these words even mean??
“But after the first few thousand years I started to feel…out of place. Wrong inside. And I started to realize that deep down I really am human. That this form I created can only do so much….so basically…”
Here she suddenly begins to cry, and approached you like she wants you to hug her. You step forcefully away like she’s an amorous leper, and she doesn’t move to follow you any further. But she still keeps crying.
“I couldn’t take it any more! I can’t take it any more! I don’t want to be a god or a pony or a princess! I just want to be me again, I want to be Amy! There are always royalty things to do here, and they aways expect me to do magic, which I usually fail at but no one even seems to notice for some reason. I mean, sure, I always just ask students to do the real work for me, or ask them to send me letters about what it means to really be a pony so I don’t get this whole pony princess thing wrong, but still! It’s too much! I can’t take it any more! I can’t! I WONT!”
She begins to wail openly now, sniffing back lines of snot as they worm down her sweaty face. Oh god, she’s like a giant toddler who just realized that santa isn’t real. Honestly, shouldn’t you be the one feeling that way.
“U-uh…” you say, more because you don’t know what to do or think right now, and your jaw is kind of opening and shutting on its own.
She sniffs heavily, and it’s suddenly like she notices you again.
“Y-you see…that’s where you come in.”
Wait. Wat. You? What do you have to do with this?! You don’t know, but you’re pretty damn sure you want no part at all. Before you can make a formal protest in the form of a uppercut and run, she goes on with ever increasing speed.
“See…the ponies still need a ruler, right? But only a person like me can operate the suit! But you’re here now, and you’re a person so…”
You stare at this strange, damp, blubbery girl in horror and disgust. Surely, she can’t be suggesting what it sounds like she’s suggesting. There’s no way she thinks that you, just some random human, would be willing to put on a sweaty, smelly horse suit in order to rule a kingdom! That’s disgusting on just about every level, just like this…person.
“Fucking. No.” you say simply.
“B-but…”
“Nope.”
“But they need you!”
“Definitely not, no way in hell, never going to happen. I will never fucking put that thing on.”
Her pouty lip sticks out even further and more tears bud in her eyes. But your heart remains cold to her, she’s not even slightly cute enough to pull that off. It’s not even vaguely appealing to you to become a secondhand furry pony princess…and yet…
All that power. I mean, you’re not a furry really and you don’t have any aspirations to be a fursuiter…but there are some perks to this. You’d be in charge of everything. You’d get infinite bitches…er…mares at your every whim. You’d get food, riches, everything you never got. And all you have to do is dress for the occasion. On the other hand, it’s so fucking gross, so perverse and fucked up, and not in all the fun ways either. Maybe that’s a trade off you’re willing to make though, at least for a little while.
But then there’s the fact that this weird self-absorbed girl is asking you to do this, that she has the fucking nerve. Not to mention who know what the fuck kinda masturbating she’s done in this thing. She lured you in here like she was going to fuck you. She pretended to be all sexy and horselike and elegant…and then to drop all this on you? She deserves to suffer, she deserves to be stuck in this form forever, just like she originally wanted. If only there was a way for you to torture her just a little bit more, teach her to be careful what she wishes for.
All of a sudden, something occurs to you. It’s disgusting, devious, and somehow it warms the dark twisted parts of your trollish little heart.
“Fine,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. “But I have one condition.”
She lights up and clasps her vienna sausage-like fingers together in a hopeful way. You take note of her smile, and guess that it probably won’t last long when you name your terms.
“Sure! Anything!”
“…anything?”
“Well…yeah, sure,” she says, suddenly sounding a little hesitant. “Why? What exactly is this condition of yours?”
You cant quite suppress a slow, mischievous smile from spreading over your face.
“…is that fursuit anatomically correct?”
“A-are you almost…hng done?” Amy whimpers from inside the Celestia fursuit between grunts.
The steady thud of your hips against the well-stuffed flanks of the fursuit ring out with your every thrust. You can at least say that this ass looks a hell of a lot better than the cottage cheese flesh you know lies underneath, so this is probably the only way you’d pound that. You increase your speed just a little as you feel some pleasure in you increase at the sound of her utter discomfort and distaste. Fucking a fursuit pony wasn’t exactly your intent today, but hell it’s something you can say you’ve done now, and her annoyance is just enough to keep you hard. Besides, upsetting her is more fun than it should be.
“Shh,” you say briefly. “Fursuiters don’t talk when they’re in costume.”
“W-well actually s-some do.”
“Not in my headcanon!”
“What d-does that even, hgnh…m-mean!”
“Stop oppressing my creativity!”
“What?!”
“Don’t tell me what to think, no one understands me! This is my aesthetic!”
“W-wait, what—”
You throw another hard thrust into the well-stitched vaginal opening of the suit, and further inside into Amy. She yelps and stops speaking, as was your intent. She’s so overheated in the suit, and you can feel her tighten up with indignation at every Tumblr-centric phrase you bleat at her. You’re not sure you’ll be able to cum this way, but you’re sure as hell going to try, and she’ll take it until you’ve satisfied yourself if she ever wants you to take over as Celestia.
In fact, you can’t suppress a little giggle as you realize that you’ll soon be a princess, ruler of all the pony world. You can tell Twilight to banish that Spike atrocity. You can have Fluttershy say dirty things to you that make her blush. You can order Rarity to wear stripes and polkadots wherever she goes! You can make everyone hate themselves and you, and you have an eternity to do it.
And if you ever push someone to far, if you ever finally send someone over the edge, and they tell you to go fuck yourself…
…you can say with confidence that you already have.
-End-
