Mean Twilight

“And you can tell Mister Rich,” Mayor Mare said, twirling the phone cord about her finger with glee, “that if he can’t deliver the goods within my new timeframe, I’ll find somepony richer to take this very lucrative contract with the town.”

Clink.

And with that, the Mayor of All Ponyville kicked back into her squishy, red-velvet recliner, and celebrated conquest. “Haaa!” she sighed aloud, pushing the chair into a spin to watch the world go by. “A-hahaha!” Her cheeks were red-hot with the flush of victory, her heart kicking in her chest like an Apple come harvest season. She loosened up her tie, and undid a straining button, fanning herself just to cool down.

After a call like that, Filthy Rich was going to be falling over his own hooves just to kiss hers. She had to commend herself: that had been a slaughter. Completely and utterly. Why, she’d be surprised if a black-suited stallion didn’t show up at her doorstep tomorrow morning with a suitcase full of bits. Bribery was his only hope left if he didn’t want her to crush him like an ant. Then, the both of them could be filthy rich.

Mayor Mare wriggled herself deeper into her seat, ample thighs the color of coffee-cream (and just as smooth) rubbing idly against each other. Victory wasn’t the only thing flushing her cheeks. She was just as hot and ready as she was red-hot. All day, she’d been riding a rising tide of power-highs, coasting on the feeling of stomping on hopes and sitting on dreams. It was just, mm, too much to ignore.

...So she got off on abusing her authority. What was anypony going to do about it, tell the mayor?

A quick spin of the chair brought her back to her phone line. Beep, beep, beep. For the Mayor of Ponyville, a secretary was only ever a few buttons away.

“H-hello, Mayor?” a soft, trembling voice came on the line within the first ring. Raven Inkwell, the office wallflower. Or she would have been, if she didn’t wobble everywhere she walked and her perpetually puffed-out lips could stop begging for a kiss. “Is there something that you needed?”

“Oh, hello, Inkwell,” Mayor Mare said, her voice a-drip with intent to seduce. On the Town Hall’s internal line, she couldn’t quite say what else was dripping, but she certainly implied it. Her voice went whisper-low, her tone just barely softer than her secretary’s curves. “I’m expecting some... company in my office soon.”

A tinny gasp came through the receiver. Mayor Mare closed her eyes, imagining Raven Inkwell were already in the room. She needed so badly to feel the pillowy, powdery softness of Raven’s cheek in her hand, her ruby-red nails running gently up those marble-white thighs. In her vivid daydream (and soon-to-be reality), Raven’s dusky eyes were filled with simple, animal need. The primal urge to be bent over a desk and given a red palmprint as a Cutie Mark.

Mayor Mare sighed. She’d have to have a statue commissioned of a prize like Raven Inkwell, someday. Smaller than hers, of course, but a statue all the same. It was possible that she could swing it with the board; a lot of things were possible with creative interpretations of the Mayor’s powers and privileges.

“See that you could come join us once you’re done with that paper I put you on, mm?” she continued, still talking in their traditional code. No one listening in would ever mistake the gasps and groans and moans that came over the line - goodness knew Raven wore her libido on the rim of her mini skirts - but she had to maintain something in the way of plausible deniability. “I’ll need a scribe to take notes. And be sure to look your most professional. There might be consequences involved if your dress just so happens to slip again... Do you understand?”

Silence. The Mayor grinned. If she’d placed her ear up to the receiver, she might just have heard Inkwell’s circuits sparking.

“Y - yes, Mayor!” Raven’s voice came back in a rush. “I’ll be up as soon as I can!”

Clink.

“Haaaa!” The Mayor sighed again, longer and louder. Her heart racing faster than ever. Well, if stepping on Filthy Rich hadn’t been enough, this second course would more than satisfy her.

She spun around again in her seat, this time taking in the view of her office. It was the office of a successful pony. The most successful pony in Ponyville, she reminded herself with great (and mounting) pleasure. The walls were packed to the brim with Mayor of the Year awards, framed photo ops... and, best of all, mirrors.

She loved those mirrors. There were nearly a dozen scattered about the office, placed at varying heights and made at varying sizes. Not only were they excellent for practicing speeches and winning smiles, they were perfect for admiring the (mm…) Face of Ponyville, as it were. She turned to a Mayor-sized mirror in the corner, admiring her figure even as her hands explored it intimately. Her right reached up to grope and squeeze and play with an abundantly soft breast. The buttons of her starchy white shirt strained with a rrrr-ip of failing thread as she toyed with herself, and she bit her lip as she watched pools of coffee-cream flesh well up from the deep, her tie sinking slowly into the growing depths of freed cleavage.

Her left hand luxuriated in the rich purple fabric that hugged her hips like a lover. Ah, to be the proud owner of the curviest figure to ever squeeze into a power suit. Her bountiful rump, fattened on the spoils of office, practically wrote her campaign ads, and it filled the cushioned seat of power like a hand in a glove. It overflowed her own hand when she pressed in on it, oodles of soft, decadent flesh that just begged to be squeezed.

“Mm-oooh,” she moaned aloud, hardly caring who heard. Even this was the privilege of her power, to sit in her luxuriously cozy chair and feel herself up as she waited for her secretary to come join her. Oh, the things she would do once Raven Inkwell arrived. The mirrors would fog right up upon witnessing a show that steamy.

A final spin brought her to the curtained window of her office. The view upon her domain, ever-expanding and fattening still on the spoils of Canterlot above. Under her careful stewardship, what had once been a run-down hick town of pet-sitters and apple farmers had grown into a jewel of Equestria, a thriving hub of trade and activity for wealthy noble-types to stop by on their way up to the capital. Sparkling dresses, creamy cupcakes, hip stores, and - yes! - ample-bodied ponies of comfort. All could be found in Ponyville. And the Town Hall sat right at the eye of the storm, the center of a metropolis-to-be. The Mayor’s Office was placed specifically to grant her the greatest view in town. She wondered idly what new stores, what new sparkling, spectacular, tourist-drawing enterprise would be transpiring when she opened the window this time...

Thwip!

The curtains rose, and her jaw dropped.

No warm rays of sunshine. No vistas of beautiful carousels and cupcake-styled bakeries. No, all that could be seen from the Mayor’s window at Town Hall now was an enormous, sprawling construction site. Towers of steel beams and mountains of cement bags had been stacked audaciously close to the center of her Jewel of Equestria! And above the construction site stood… that. The all-eclipsing sign that blocked every last ray of sun from view, printed with giant, sparkling lavender letters:

PRINCESS TWILIGHT’S FRIENDSHIP FACTORY!

(COMING SOON)

And in just a single smile-ruining, ego-popping moment, Mayor Mare was reminded that she was not technically the most successful pony in Ponyville.

She grit her teeth. “Twilight Sparkle,” Mayor Mare growled aloud, the name itself foul in her mouth. Who did she think she was? Besides a Princess of the Realm, of course. But who exactly did she think she was, prancing about town with hardly a care for respect, rules, or laws? She didn’t have anything productive to do with herself, that Mayor Mare had ever seen! Instead of useful, taxable work, all Twilight Sparkle ever did was fill young mares’ ears with ideas of friendship and fill their bellies with thick, sticky fluids!

And just like that, the pleasant heat suffusing Mayor Mare's body departed, leaving her icy-cold and rather frustrated. An entire morning's worth of erotic, sizzling cat-and-mouse play - all in the name of steaming her up, building her up until she was boiling over for a pleasant afternoon bout of interoffice sexual harassment - wasted! Mayor Mare had completely lost her appetite, no longer interested in making that padded chair creak or her padded assistant squeak.

Ugh!

She clutched absently at her abundant curves for just a few moments longer, fingers half-heartedly exploring the cooling flesh in vain hope that she could push past the complete and utter mood-killer the unduly-elected Princess represented... and came up with nothing. Ooh, it just wasn't the same without the smoky coal of corruption stoking her boiler! Even her pursuit of Inkwell only worked so well because her assistant understood the fine art of ‘not wanting it too much’. How was she supposed to get off on her abuse of power, with an even higher authority dropping factories down right on her head?

Ahh... But…

A sly little thought sidled its way into her mind. One that had taken hold of her heart even as it formed in her brain, her chest pounding harder and faster as she thought and more upon it. Excitement gripped her.

...A factory fallen onto her head. Wasn’t this rather an opportunity, fallen right into her lap? New zoning projects and constructions in a town were bound - by the very highest of all laws in Equestria - to come through the Mayor's office. Even with the power of a Princess, the paperwork still had to be filed. And processed at a pace controlled entirely by the Mayor herself. Had Princess Twilight, in between sweaty bouts of despoiling Ponyville’s finest, stretchiest mares in front of the tourists, thought to file the proper paperwork for her Friendship Factory with the proper authorities? She rather doubted it. But, just to be certain, the Mayor double-checked her files, struggling to check her giddiness as she scanned page after page.

It was a tough task, though! For someone of this mare's particular inclinations, dry legal documents with incriminating legal powers made for delightful sort of foreplay. As the contents of her ‘IN’ Box dwindled, and no official record of Twilight's work presented itself, Mayor Mare felt that breathtaking heat in her loins rekindle itself, her childlike sense of braggadocio slinking back into her heart. Oooh... A chance to turn those rules and regulations she so adored on Twilight Sparkle, the untouchable princess herself... who could resist? Not Mayor Mare, that was for certain!

Creeeaaak.

“M-Mayor?” Raven Inkwell’s head poked through the crack, her cheeks flushed and her expression already done up in an anxious little pout. Raven obviously came expecting playtime: the secretary looked a treat with her alabaster curves bulging through the fabric of her dress at every thread. But that wasn't enough for her boss, goodness no! So she further intensified the effect by spilling out her night-black mane, leaving it free to fall in inky waves upon her shoulders. “You said you, mm…” she inched her way in, legs pressed tightly together. That was Raven’s natural posture, of course - her skirts were always too small to contain hips that would’ve matched two mares - but the fidgety rub of thigh against thigh betrayed the steam building within her core. She was ready. “You said you w-wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did!” Mayor Mare said, with a gleeful laugh. Nowhere to be found! Twilight Sparkle hadn’t filed even a single page of a single form with the Mayor’s Office. She laughed and whooped and skipped about with glee, her secretary’s confusion (and frustrated sexuality) lost upon her in the celebration. “I’ve got her,” she announced, to the world. “I’ve got her now! We’ll see how high and mighty she is after this!”

“Um…” Raven cocked her head, lips pursed. “If you say so, Mayor…” The affairs of politics were far above her, and she doubted she’d have understood what the Mayor was laughing about even if she’d been told. But… She gripped her clipboard close to her beyond-ample chest, sighing even at the gentle pressure the flat wood provided. “But you said that you needed me, Ma’am?” she reminded her boss.

“Yes, yes, I do, Raven,” Mayor Mare said, patting her secretary on the head like a she would a lost puppy. “I’ll need you to pull the laws for me, and to accompany me on the trip. And to cancel all of my other appointments, of course. This will take all afternoon. If I’m lucky. Ah, ha ha ha!” She laughed one final, throaty laugh, and pointed out the window, toward a shimmering, crystalline castle standing in the distance. “Look out, Twilight Sparkle!” she shouted. “This Mayor is about to topple a Princess!”

-

In the blink of an eye (and the commandeering of the fastest carriage in town), the pair found themselves standing upon the threshold of that garish eyesore Twilight had called home after her involvement in the destruction of the Ponyville Town Library. Really, this place had been Sparkle's first transgression against the town all those years ago... Mayor Mare had certainly never approved any overgrown playsets in her idyllic little countryside town! Only the unique and special rights granted to the castles of Princesses had kept her from rejecting the permit to this place, too!

But here they were now, craning their necks skywards to take in the full sight of the intimidating purple edifice. What a pair they looked to be, themselves! Raven stood buxom, stacked, and soft enough to make any mouth water. They Mayor beside her stood... equally as buxom, stacked, etc, etc. It wasn't as though she could help it! Despite her veneer of the stern, severe authoritarian from the neck up, genetics and a careful regimen of spa visits had been exceedingly kind to the Mayor. Her thighs were thick enough to engulf any stallion lucky enough to have them wrapped around him, to say nothing of her bust. Any cock caught between those would doubtless need a search party to bring it back!

But where Raven flaunted her assets in garments befitting office eye-candy and tea-serving floozies everywhere, Mayor Mare came dressed considerably more down-to-earth, in a well-tailored pant-suit that did its best to rein her decadently-sculpted figure in.

It was, of course, no coincidence that the Mayor and her assistant were two of the most built mares in all Ponyville. As a full-figured mare who only loved other full-figured mares, her narcissism had served her well in the limelight of public office... and it was hardly any trouble to cook the books and hire the fattest-breasted cupcake she could find to laze around her office. Together, they looked like the world's tastiest pre-made harem - if they hadn’t been utterly off-limits to anypony but the most absolutely commanding of dominants!

“Onward ho!” Mayor Mare shouted aloud all of the sudden, charging forward into the castle while Raven brought up the (bouncing) rear. In a storm of clop-clops and wobble-wobbles, they assailed Princess Twilight’s Castle of Friendship, flying up nigh-endless staircases and charging down gaudy crystal hallways until at last they stood before the crystal-paned doors of the Throne Room.

It had been a dangerous trip for the pair of them, fraught with peril, and more exercise than two plump mares who lived worked all day sitting at desks (or bending over them) were used to! But, at last, they had arrived.

“Whew!” the Mayor gasped, panting for breath. She wiped at her sweat-soaked forehead with the sleeve of her suit, fanning herself desperately for air. “What a nightmare that was! I don’t know how she can live in a place like this.”

She refused to give voice to her second thought: That Twilight was so obscenely, decadently wealthy that she could afford to live in a castle that tired ponies out on a trip to the Throne Room. Most likely, Twilight hardly ran about her castle at all; the small army of ample, young maids they had passed on the way up probably brought her anything she wanted. Themselves included.

Mayor Mare glanced back toward Raven, red-cheeked from effort and heaving for breath like a filly in heat... Although, given the nature of her job, that wasn’t an unusual look for her. None of Twilight’s maids, at least, were quite so wide and soft and squeezable as Raven Inkwell. Even if she did have dozens and dozens of them. “Quality over quantity,” Mayor Mare whispered to herself, as she placed her hands against the doors and pushed. “I am the Mayor here.”

“Twilight Sparkle!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, as the doors gave way. Her voice echoed about the crystalline walls of a massive, office-dwarfing Throne Room, tiled in amethyst and lined every which way with gold. At the room’s center sat a towering, diamond throne, upon which the purple object of her hatred was lounging - rather smugly so, if Mayor Mare was any judge of such things. Which she was. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

"Oh."

That was all Twilight said. Just 'Oh.'

“Yes, and I’m not leaving until I’m through!” Mayor Mare raised a finger, already prepared to launch into one of her famous tirades. The sort that won elections and put fancy-pants stallions like Filthy Rich straight in her place. “You see, I-”

But the little one opposite the duo cut her off presently. "Well, snap to it, then. I'm a very busy pony, you know. If you’re here for a bone, why don’t you come on up and get it?"

"Ah..." Mayor Mare floundered for a moment, then finally found the words she sought, albeit with the help of a little nudge to her pleasing curves from the black-maned beauty beside her.

"Yes! Of course. Ahem!"

Mayor Mare drew herself up to her full height, swaggering across the room with Raven in tow. They made their ponderous way along the velvet carpets all the way up to the throne, circling around it, sidling against its back. It was a move the Mayor had long practiced against stammering business stallions, she and Raven together leaned down over the throne to flank the little pony seated upon it, imposing upon her with bigger, heavier, curvier forms... and instead achieving the effect of a pair of call girls draping themselves around the boss. Especially when Raven grazed a fingertip over the throne's star-shaped crest. The very same symbol gracing Princess Twilight’s flank.

"Twilight, Twilight, Twilight," Mayor Mare teased, taking a moment to look down at the pony between them. And taking another moment to look again. It was easy to be disarmed by such a tiny little thing sitting beneath her - so, disarmed she was.

Where the pair of common ponies perhaps came in at around six-foot-plus each, among full-grown mares and stallions Princess Twilight Sparkle might just have been one of the most diminutive ponies in Equestria. Or anywhere else. Standing straight up, she might have just barely cleared five feet, her figure petite and flat-chested. In fact, her only real curves had been deposited straight in the back, making a rather splendid caboose that may have been small by the absolutes, but bordered immense when placed on her fun-sized form.

The imposing Throne of Friendship only intensified the effect of her smallness - obviously built for a much larger pony. Sitting right in the center of the seat, Twilight left enough empty space on either side to fit two more of her! Mayor Mare, on the other hand, would have found it a tight fit even before accounting for 50 pounds or so of winter weight.

Small. Twilight was so small. And big! They were so big! Mayor Mare hardly even needed to strain her brain with this one, it looked like physical intimidation would be more than enough.

Or she could insult Twilight's choice of clothing.

Yes, why not go the extra mile and cement her dominance?

It was clear at a glance, after all, that Princess Twilight must have had to shop in the child's section of stores, denied the finest pony fashions available to well-rounded adult mares such as herself. Today she wore a plain dress shirt, a short leather skirt that rode up her hips and two black leather boots with laces up to the knees. A pair of thin, circle-rimmed spectacles sat on the Princess's snout. For reading, perhaps? How dreadful!

It was terrible. Awful, even. Just tragic fashion sense, really. Mayor Mare felt better already!

...Although.

As Mayor Mare’s eyes made one final pass, the snide remark already forming on her lips, she paused. The words dying on her lips. Twilight's skirt was... riding up? Now what could that be? She took a closer look. And her heart melted when she saw what was waiting for her there. Her senses reeled.

Of course, everyone in Ponyville knew Twilight had one of those... but actually seeing it, so large and fat and thick Twilight couldn't even get her skirt down over it - instead, letting the small leather garment ride up almost to her smooth, soft belly just to accommodate her own length. How ridiculous! How excessive! How… obscene!

Cocks had always been the most difficult part of a stallion's anatomy for Mayor Mare to handle, and Twilight's was certainly no exception! Rather, it seemed determined to prove the rule.

She chanced another glance down at it, her eyes widening at its sheer size. That unnatural, girthy size, not just reaching down to her knees but shooting past them! Down, down, down went the tightly-wrapped heaping helping of sheer, personified arrogance, flopping all the way down to the little pony's boots. It dangled just a few inches over a dark-stained carpet, leaking fat drops of sticky goop upon it in a slow, almost methodical rhythm, like a faucet that had not been fully turned off.

As a mare who preferred mares, Mayor Mare had only glimpsed a few male members here and there... and Twilight had them all beat! Even as it lay completely soft between her legs (Rather like a sleeping dragon! the Mayor thought, with a gulp), Twilight still out-hefted even the largest of poles wielded by even the grandest of stallions. To say nothing of the free-hanging pair of balls that came with the rod, so large and sloshy and fully-loaded they forced her fat cock to thrust outwards, leaving it to dangle a foot or so away from her core. In contrast to the tight flesh of Twi's dick, stretched thin over the pillar until the veiny muscle just beneath the surface could be deliciously appreciated, that sinister sack only belied its contents through the impression of the great weight dragging them down: like a sturdy sack pulled into a teardrop by the bowling balls within.

A world-class cock and balls, then, hanging off a pony only a little bigger than it. If one were to weigh Twilight Sparkle and her equipment separately, it could come up as 25% of her weight. She was 1/4 cock!

... Well... at least the rest of her was still small.

“So,” Twilight said coolly. She brought a finger up and gently pushed the Mayor’s fallen jaw back into place. “Are you going to suck it, or take it?”

“What?” Mayor Mare recoiled back in shock. And still further back as the leviathan lurking beneath Twilight’s skirt lurched sleepily upward, plumping and surging and growing at the scent of nearby prey. Slowly, Twilight’s cock passed the level of her hips, and arced upward into the air, inch by fleshy inch. It was, the Mayor noted as she stared into the head of that darkening purple length, almost pointing at her. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

The Mayor took another step back in retreat, hoping to keep well clear of wherever Twilight decided to point that thing next. Poor Raven had been left behind, her eyes transfixed upon Twilight’s length, her nostrils flaring with every breath, drinking in the scent of Ponyville Royalty’s raw sexuality. She looked like a mouse caught in the path of a diving hawk. She circled her tongue about her pillowy lips, wetting them as she leaned closer and closer over the throne…

“Ahem!” Mayor Mare cleared her throat, breaking the spell over her secretary. Or what she hoped had only been a spell. Raven Inkwell blinked, suddenly alert, and shuffled sheepishly over to the Mayor’s side - her eyes still darting between her old boss... and the new one between Twilight’s legs.

“As I was saying, Twilight Sparkle,” the Mayor said, finger raised and wagging at the pint-sized Princess lounging in front of her. “You are in a lot of trouble with the Mayor’s Office, young miss!”

“Oh?” Twilight said, a coy little smile curling on her lips. She leaned back even further into the cushioning of her throne, pushing her burgeoning erection upward until - in a stark reversal of fortunes - it seemed to be looming over them. Not that it needed the help. “And that’s what you came all this way to tell me?”

“Yes!” the Mayor pressed on, finger wagging harder than ever before. “In violation of the very highest laws in Equestria, you very clearly neglected to file the proper zoning paperwork to build your silly Friendship Factory in Ponyville. Paperwork that has to come through the Mayor’s Office by law.” She grinned, her voice building in confidence and clarity as she settled into the rhythm of her speech. This was her element. This was any good politician’s evidence. It would be to Twilight’s bane that she’d allowed the Mayor to get a word in edgewise. “By law, Twilight Sparkle. Do you hear me? Law!”

“La-aaaaw,” Twilight repeated, swirling the word around in her mouth, as if she had not had to think about it for a very long time. Idly, she reached a hand up and gently rubbed the fleshy purple pillar between her legs, her fingers running along it in long, satisfying strokes, like a favorite pet. “Hum.”

The Mayor took another step backward as it ‘purred’ in delight, a glorp of off-white cream bubbling up from the tip and rolling down the long, steep slope of Twilight’s shaft.

“And!” Mayor Mare continued, seeking not to break stride. This here was her trump card. The ace she’d been keeping up her sleeve for just this moment. “Under Ponyville law, any individual who shall fail to file proper zoning paperwork before the beginning of construction will be subject to punishment at the Mayor’s discretion.” Her grin widened, victory at hand. Already, she could see herself whipping Twilight Sparkle’s fat, spoiled rear with a riding crop - punishment enough for daring to laze about in a diamond throne all day. “Remember: It’s the law.”

“Oooh,” Twilight’s eyes lit up. Evidently, she had found whatever it was that she’d been thinking about. “The law.” She giggled. “I’m sorry, girls, when you’re a Princess, there are so many other, more important things to think about. You go on and tell the Mayor-”

“I’m the Mayor,” bleated the Mayor.

“-that under Article 4, Subsection 8, and Paragraph 2 of Equestria’s Land Distribution Treaty, the Princess shall have the right to file all necessary paperwork at her convenience, with deadline set at completion of construction.” She shot Raven Inkwell a sly little wink, even as her monstrous cock shot an arc of creamy gunk that splatted dangerously close to the Mayor’s hooves. “We have so many priorities bigger than worrying over files and technicalities, after all. Diplomats to deal with, nations to rule, factories to build...”

At that, Mayor Mare positively shook with rage! She flared her nostrils in frustration at such open defiance - and almost immediately regretted it. The smell so copiously wafting up from the pillar of power throbbing beneath her nose came so thickly she would have liked to declare it a public hazard and quarantined the whole area.

Why did it smell so strongly? How could it smell so strongly? The fresh sheen of saliva and the many, many lipstick smears adorning its prodigious length evidenced that Twilight had ‘washed’ it little more than an hour ago. How, then, just after driving doubtless a dozen maids into an early retirement, did Twilight’s cock smell like it had been stewing in rut for weeks?

She couldn’t imagine. She didn’t want to imagine.

Mayor Mare stomped a hoof, dizzied and dazed enough she hardly noticed she'd planted it in a warm pile of Twilight's sticky pleasure. "Ha! The exact treaty you're referring to also stipulates that the elected authority of the province - yours truly - can require the paperwork to be filed sooner, where..."

She paused as she caught another whiff of that uniquely equine bouquet filling the room. Mayor Mare ran some fingers down her cheek - sweaty and blushed hot with a need her conscious mind refused to recognize - and reminded herself to only breathe through her mouth. "...Where said construction infringes upon their ability to manage their territories! And I say your silly Factory most certainly does! The paperwork, Princess! File it, before I send a wrecking crew around to pound your little entrepreneurial enterprise back to the Ice Age!"

“Gosh!” Twilight threw her hands up in mock surprise, her eyes a-rolling. For all she seemed to care, Mayor Mare might as well have threatened to unleash a pack of puppies upon her. Or to savage her with a pillow. Or to bend right over and let Twilight do whatever she wished. “Well, we can’t have that! We don’t want anyone to get pounded now, do we?”

In the back, Raven’s hand shot into the air.

“The law is the law, I suppose!” Twilight said, shrugging. Even this simple motion seemed to set her cock waving about, swaying to and fro in gentle rhythm like a hypnotist’s watch. It was hardly any wonder that Twilight seemed to have Ponyville’s mares wrapped around her royal finger; their legs wrapped around her slender waist; their throats wrapped around her shaft. Her every little move seemed designed to seduce, to excite, to overwhelm. “I’ll have that paperwork filed straight away, then.”

“You - you will?” Mayor Mare choked out, unable to stifle a sigh of relief. “I mean… Yes, of course you will!” Truth be told (not that she would ever tell it!) she felt as though she’d barely managed to dodge a bullet train. She was well within her rights as the duly-elected Mayor to demand all of this, so far as she knew, but she didn’t want to think too hard about what might have happened if Princess Twilight had simply… disagreed. “Right. Well, I’ll expect it immediately, then! If those papers aren’t on my desk by the time I come in tomorrow, I’ll have your Friendship Factory flattened...”

She snapped. “...Like that!”

“What a terrible fate that would be,” Twilight agreed, a cat-who’d-cocked-the-canary grin plastered across her face. “I’ll put it in with your secretary, then.” She winked. Although whether it had been for her, or… Raven behind her… the Mayor couldn’t quite tell. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

Mayor Mare exhaled, for the first time in a while. That had gone rather well, in the end. Her power high from before might have flagged, but for the moment it was tempered with something equally delicious: anticipation! It wasn’t a pleasure the impatient and impulsive fillies of Ponyville could easily understand, but a seasoned mare like herself knew all too well the satisfaction of a toe-curling delight lying just beyond the corner.

So she anticipated her victory, and felt very, very nice in doing so.

"Well, was there anything else?" the pint-sized plutocrat asked in a honeyed tone. "I believe I'm due for my two o'clo - oh, there she is now."

The door behind the two heavy-breasted dignitaries swung open again, and a third, equally-colossal form swaggered in between them. Starlight Glimmer, Twilight's classy, well-trained, and dangerously stacked assistant, with enough breast on her to fill her generous lap sitting down. She entered milk-jugs-first on tottering high heels, and frowned rather disappointedly when she saw Twilight had guests.

"Oh... Am I interrupting something?" Starlight susurrated in lipstick-drenched tones.

Mayor Mare snorted out a half-whinny of discomfort, averting her eyes and pushing her glasses up her nose. She'd shown plenty of restraint in allowing Raven to dress however she wished, even permitting sensible and comfortable clothing. The demands of holding public office even necessitated that employees come dressed with reasonable modesty. But this Starlight character Twilight Sparkle had under her thumb... She was sporting hoop earrings, towering high heels, a slitted miniskirt, and worse besides!

"You... ordered a call girl?" Mayor Mare asked in disbelief. How could a Princess of Equestria call in a pony dressed so… obviously. In front of her greatest political rival, no less! Didn’t she care? Wasn’t she worried about the scandal that would surely brew if it were known that Princess Twilight were ruining buxom mares for anyone to see?

If it didn’t make her even more popular, anyway.

"A call girl!" laughed Twilight. "No, she’s just my secretary. The call girls will be in after her."

At that, it was Starlight's turn to avert her eyes.

Mayor Mare gulped, swallowing. "Well... Ahh... Anyway! We were just leaving, weren't we, Raven?"

Raven looked on, spellbound, at Starlight Glimmer's outfit. Of course, she'd pushed endlessly in the past for the privilege of wearing comfortable shoes and slacks like the Mayor’s every now and then, and she had succeeded in making a few changes to the dress code by it. But now, actually seeing what she could have looked like… Well, she couldn't really argue with the results!

"You look fantastic," Raven murmured dreamily. Already imagining herself in the very same outfit as Starlight’s. Maybe if she had the same boss…

"...Come along, Miss Inkwell!" Mayor Mare huffed, more insistently this time.

Raven stood stock-still. Her ears twitched at the Mayor’s command, but her nostrils flared for the scent hanging thick in the air. Her eyes darted this way and that, scanning over every inch of Starlight’s figure. Her oh-so-fashionable clothes, her silken mane, her pleasantly plump purple form, thickened surely by a diet of the heavy cream that flowed liberally from Twilight’s tip.

If Starlight herself noticed Raven’s presence in the room, she didn’t seem to let it bother her. With professional, practiced form, she sashayed her way toward Princess Twilight’s throne; the hips that had nearly toppled Equestria bouncing from side to side with every step, shaking to the beat of some unheard rhythm.

“Let’s get this done quickly, then,” Starlight said, drumming her slender fingers up Twilight’s throbbing pole as she walked. “You’ll want me to do that paperwork afterward, I’m sure.”

“Mm, don’t be so sure,” Twilight hummed.

Her cock was already responding to her secretary’s kind treatment, dribbling thick white cum down its impossible length until Starlight’s fingers were soaked in the stuff and stuck to Twilight’s shaft. At this, Starlight’s motions transitioned smoothly into strokes, her fingers curling (as far as they could) around Twilight’s shaft and her hand slid uuuu-up and down again, up and down, like a piston working in an engine. Starlight, ever the faithful secretary, was machine-like in her efficiency, her motions calculated to bring her Princess maximum pleasure.

Raven was sweating. The heat in the room seemed to have doubled since Starlight had started, and nowhere did Raven Inkwell feel it more than her own core. She crossed her legs standing, shaking with need. Oh, she’d have given anything to be in Starlight’s place right now! So hot and bothered was she that she didn’t even hear the Mayor’s voice in her ear, shouting at her to come along this instant, or else!

But if Starlight had ignored Raven entirely, Princess Twilight seemed to have some pity for the poor girl. She waved a hand dismissively at the lesser of the two secretaries, a serene little smile on her face. “Go on,” she said, her voice thick and sweet as honey - or the strong-smelling juices she pumped out by the gallon. A wet glrrk! filled the room as Starlight finally wrapped her electric-blue lips about that enormous, flaring head. “I’ll drop the papers off with you tomorrow.”

Raven heard that. “Yes, Princess,” she said, bowing low, hoping against hope that Twilight’s gaze fell upon the marble canyon of cleavage positively spilling from her outfit. The Mayor did so love that part of her, and she hoped Twilight would as well. “Of course, Princess.”

She might have stuck herself that way for another ten minutes, too - if the Mayor hadn’t wrapped an arm about Raven’s waist and hoisted her up over her shoulder.

“If those papers aren’t in my ‘IN’ box by the time the cock crows, Princess,” the Mayor growled, stomping out the door with her heavy-set secretary in tow, “I’ll be sitting in that throne the next day. Good-bye!”

She turned about, and madder than any she’d ended any conversation in her life, she slammed the double-doors shut.

“My goodness!” Twilight giggled, and she gave Starlight’s head a gentle pat. “What a drama-queen.”

“Mmph-hmph!” Starlight agreed.