Not Only a Princess on the Throne
On a Saturday evening, long after sunset, while the nightlife in Canterlot was abuzz, a crackle and yellow flash behind thick shrubbery announced a successful teleportation. A white-coated, lean pegasus with a vibrant yellow mane stepped out of the bushes and walked to the nearby building.
The young mare, known in the establishment as Citrine, stepped through the employee entrance at the back and looked around. The first pony she saw was her boss, Cherry, and Citrine gave the middle aged, slightly chubby mare her warmest smile. She was about to say ‘hello’, but Cherry ran up to her and didn’t gave her the chance.
“Ci! You’re here!” Cherry yelled. She looked like she wanted to tackle Citrine, but managed to contain herself by excitedly hopping on her hooves. “Oh, you will not believe how happy I am to see you! It’s been so incredibly busy tonight, it’s… it’s as if a premier league hoofball game has just finished, or something.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Citrine chuckled. “Hoofball doesn’t interest me much, I’m afraid. But, that’s a good thing, right?”
“Good? Well, yes, it would be, but… There just aren’t enough girls tonight. Even if every one of you had shown up, it still wouldn’t have been enough. I’m so glad you’re here, though. Will you be doing the usual? How long will you stay? Oh, we could so use you.”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t planned on staying for very long, to be honest. But… who knows. I’ll see.” She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes slightly. “And you know I do not rush things. I’m not going to start just because it happens to be busy.”
“Oh! No no no. Please, dearie, I wouldn’t want you any other way. I’m just happy you showed up, is all. I’m sure the stallions are as well.” She wrapped a foreleg around Citrine’s withers and pulled her in a tight, motherly hug. “I’m sorry for coming across as demanding.”
“It’s quite alright,” Citrine said, smiling at her. “And yes, it’s the usual for me.”
For once, Cherry didn’t pout in disappointment. Usually, at this point, she’d start suggesting—begging, really—for Citrine to take on a more active role in the bedrooms; she was certain that a “pretty, little, passionate thing like her” would become the highlight of the establishment. She always did so in a joking manner, knowing Citrine would decline. But even though it was just a token effort, a little tradition between them, she still had a tiny glimmer of hope that Citrine would one day give in, which was why every time Citrine came around, she had a new argument ready. Cherry could get quite creative in her attempts to convince her, and had made Citrine laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of her arguments on multiple occasions.
When that failed, Cherry often resorted to asking if she, at least, wouldn’t mind to please come more often? But Citrine always countered, that, if she did, it wouldn’t be as special for her anymore, which would show in her performance. To this day, Cherry still hadn’t found a valid counter-argument to that, as she was well aware of Citrine’s unique passion and valued it greatly.
Citrine missed it a little. The flattery, token or not, always made her feel appreciated and confirmed that she was still doing a good job. Not that she had any doubts, but it was always nice to hear it from somepony. Although, Cherry skipping all that, and just being genuinely happy that she was there at all, showed a different type of appreciation that didn’t mean any less.
“Well, shall I get to it, then? As lovely as it is to hug an older mare, it’s not exactly what I’m here for.”
Cherry laughed and released her grip. “Feel free to, dear. You’re the only one in the stalls, so pick your favourite.”
Citrine stepped away, gave her a little wave, and entered the narrow hallway which contained the stalls. While Cherry had probably said it in jest, as all the three stalls looked exactly the same and unremarkable, she did in fact have a favourite. The last one, the one in the back, had always made her feel a bit more comfortable and safer than the others.
She entered that one and turned on the ceiling lamp, bathing the stall in a dim, red light.
With the door locked, in the safe anonymity of the four narrow walls, the young mare known as Citrine released the grasp on her spell, shedding her disguise.
Princess Celestia quickly sat down, as the stall wasn’t made to accommodate a standing mare of her size, and faced the small, round hole in the wall. Her heart thumped in nervous excitement as she pulled the cord before she could change her mind, flipping a sign on the outside that let the patrons know that a mare was available, willing and waiting.
As she waited, she quickly tied her mane at her neck with an elastic band so it wouldn’t get in the way—or worse, drift through the hole and give her identity away.
It took less than a minute before her ears picked up a muffled shuffling and a closing door on the other side. Seconds later, forehooves thumped on the angled wall and a short, flaccid penis appeared through the hole.
Celestia swallowed and licked her lips. Luckily, that was usually how they were presented to her, and was exactly how she liked them. It was rare for them to enter erect, but when they did they were usually too aroused, too eager to reach climax, to appreciate everything she had to offer. Such a shame. This old mare enjoyed her traditional, slow foreplay, and the stallions did too, even if they didn’t know it yet.
The stallionhood was a uniform, unmottled black—but then, nearly everything appeared black in the dim, red light—of average size, she supposed. Judging could be difficult before they were fully erect, and she had been surprised a few times too many to make assumptions. Still, this stallion already showed he had nothing to be embarrassed for.
As expected in a higher-end brothel like this, faint traces of fresh soap or shampoo drifted through the hole as well. That was one of her strict requirements, and this establishment had yet to disappoint in that regard.
There had been... others. Sadly, not every business owner took the necessary care and precautions this line of work deserved. Prostitution was, for good reason, a touchy issue for her subjects. While most were in favour, seemingly everypony had concerns and opinions on how it should be handled properly. Celestia shared all those concerns and, experiencing it first hoof, possibly took them more serious than anypony else. Negligence was, unfortunately, not as rare as it ought to be. Especially, the lower end establishments tended toward skimping on proper hygiene and taking advantage of their employees, which, in turn, also made them indifferent of the laws and proper conduct surrounding the profession.
Celestia had even been fired from her last job after she, as Citrine, refused an unreasonable demand and talked back to the owner, reminding him of her rights and the laws in place. Such a coincidence it was that the very next day an inspector arrived to find a wealth of malpractice evidence and shut the place down. It wasn’t the first brothel in Canterlot that closed—or received a stern warning—due to her hoof, but hopefully, it would be the last, as the new ones that appeared in their stead knew better than to make the same mistakes.
Being directly responsible for making the Canterlot nightlife a better place did wonders in justifying her unprincess-like behavior.
Cherry’s had been everything she could have hoped for. The mare went above and beyond the laws, and not just because they were laws, but because she couldn’t imagine it any other way. Her establishment was always as clean and proper as it could be, with a warm, welcoming, and relaxed atmosphere. She treated her girls with the same kindness and understanding a mother would. It was just her way. In turn, Celestia was all too pleased to work for her and hoped she could continue doing so for a long time. She even felt a bit guilty for being so unreliable. Cherry deserved better than her vague ‘maybe’s’. While the mare would surely sympathize if she knew about her other job, it pained Celestia that she had to lie to her and be so secretive.
She brought her nose close to sniff his masculine scent and closed her eyes as she reveled in the erotic, musky aroma that never failed to arouse her, deeply inhaling when she realized how much she had missed it. Why mares were born with an inherent weakness that left them drunk with desire was something she’d never understand, but she loved it, and wouldn’t have it any other way. All her hesitation and doubt flew right out of the window in favour of a primal, untamable lust.
She made it a point to remember that irresistible smell, and how it made her feel, so she wouldn’t waffle about for days the next time she felt an urge. But then, she did that every time. The memories never weighed up to the real thing.
Celestia raised a hoof underneath the limp, hanging penis, and pressed her cheek against the soft skin, moaning softly at the mystical characteristics that a simple piece of male anatomy had no right to possess. She felt its warmth radiating against her cheek and the soft rushing of blood through the veins, making it swell and pulse ever so slightly further from its sheath with every excited beat of his heart.
Just a gentle touch, just the knowledge and confirmation that a mare was tending to him was enough to arouse him. It wouldn’t take long—it never did—but the simple act of getting a stallion hard, knowing that she was responsible for that, added so much to the experience.
She rubbed her cheek along the ever increasing length, appreciating the simple wonder of having a willing stallionhood so intimately close.
Two ponies needing each other, wanting the same, simple thing, wasn’t worth any controversy and had no reason to be anything but a glorious experience. He wanted her warm, moist, experienced mouth, and she wanted to wrap her lips around his hard, potent erection. It had been madness for her to think that there could possibly be anything wrong with that, to have denied herself the pleasure for so long, all because of some title in front of her name and the expectations other ponies had given it. She was glad to have come to her senses and shed that nonsense, for not only had she neglected her own most basic desires, she had, at the same time, deprived all those potential stallions of sharing these innocent pleasures with her.
She dragged a trail of wet kisses along the side of the shaft, all the way from the medial ring to the thick, bulging head, feeling it pulse against her soft lips. There, she circled around the sensitive rim with the tip of her tongue. Thanks to her light teasing, it twitched and grew in rapid spurts.
Celestia lowered her hoof and watched how the heavy, thick shaft dangled at a downward angle, gradually rising and stiffening of its own accord. She had been right in her initial assessment—he was of average size, or would be when fully erect. A delicious, clean, perfectly shaped average that would give no mare a reason to complain. Her breathing quickened when she realized how lucky she was to be served such a treat. If the stallion it belonged to was even half as attractive as his cock was desirable, he had no business seeking relief in a brothel. But his motivations didn’t concern her.
She brought her muzzle down to the tip of the twitching length and opened her mouth, wrapping her lips around the shaft just behind the thick rim. Having it grow to its full size inside her mouth as she suckled and flicked her tongue against the supple head, bloating her cheeks with gradually hardening cock, was always such a delight, something she couldn’t help but do every time.
Once at full erection, with the tip inside the wet confines of her warm mouth, he pulled back and delivered impatient, shallow thrusts. That was always a shame, as there was easily over a foot of thick, delicious shaft between her lips and the wall that she had yet to attend to. Having him rush to orgasm by fucking her mouth while she had barely even started to give the impressive stallionhood the pleasure it deserved was not something she’d put up with. Not yet, at least. Other mares would, maybe, but not her.
Other mares often had different incentives. Bits, mostly. But Celestia had no need for more bits, which made her something of a unique case among her fellow prostitutes. Perhaps that was why she was so good, why no stallion ever left the stall unsatisfied. She was driven by nothing but pure passion, a passion to experience everything a cock had to offer and to please it to the best of her abilities. Because she only worked when the urge became too great, and stopped when she was sated, she never performed halfheartedly.
She backed away and let the thick flare pop from her lips, leaving the stallion pathetically humping the air before wondering where her luscious mouth went. She didn’t blame him, for she knew through experience how hard it was for them to hold back, how tempting it was to shove their length down her throat. But she didn’t have to engage him either.
The shaft made for an obscene sight jutting from the hole, thick veins bulging and head glistening in the red light, filled with sexual intent and promise. Such an image would have surely bothered her before, or at least made her blush and cover a gasp while pretending to look away.
Her mouth watered at the sight and her dock twitched, excitedly whipping her tail from side to side and spreading the heavy scent of aroused mare through the small confines of the stall.
Panting with her mouth open and tongue lolling, she held it steady in the cup of her fetlock and stroked along the length while she set to appreciating the entirety of the wonderful organ. Starting from the base, she extended her tongue and dragged it over the wide surface, taking note of all the thick veins underneath the skin and blindly tracing their contours, following the curves around the girth to wherever they led her. After each long lick, she smacked her lips to better taste the intoxicating arousal of the opposite sex on her tongue. She kissed it, passionately, as if it were the lips of a lover and pressed the long hardness against her cheek for no other reason than a desire to feel the cock against her skin. Ducking underneath and letting it rest on her forehead, she paid special attention to the underside, slathering the entire length with saliva, as, for some reason, the thickest masculine flavour was always to be found there.
Evidence of her own lust dripped on the floor, forming a small puddle between her haunches. Her pussy was slick and swollen, leaking a steady trail of feminine juices out of her invitingly parted lips. She reached between her thighs with a hoof and briefly rubbed over her sensitive teats, surprised at how perked and stiff they were. She resisted the urge to further tend to the heat between her legs, as it would be too hard to stop, and allowing herself to orgasm would only tire her out and dampen her passion. It wasn’t what she was here for, anyway.
A long string of precum dangled from the tip, and she let it drop on her tongue before following the strand to its source. There, she pursed her lips in an attempt to suck any more of the sticky liquid out of the urethra, eyes rolling to the back of her head when she tasted the tiniest hint of male essence on her tongue. She swallowed, wanting to keep it in her, even though there was hardly anything to swallow. It was a delicious tease, and she wanted more.
Celestia moved her head forward and opened her mouth wide to envelop the entire thick head and then some, nearly reaching the medial ring with her lips. Instantly, her mouth was filled to the brim with tasty cock, the broad tip pressing against the entrance of her throat. She closed her eyes as she bobbed her head and slid her wet lips over the slick surface, circling and caressing the sensitive head with her tongue, thirstily drinking every spilled drop of precious precum. The overwhelming smell of sex saturating the air entered her flared nostrils with every deep breath, spurring her on, making every semblance of rationality evaporate from her mind in favour of a depraved craving. Lewd moans and slurps escaped from her mouth as lost herself in the act, but she didn’t care, as she couldn’t suck him to the best of her abilities without airing her enjoyment and making the occasional wet sopping noises.
Keenly aware of the warm and wet mare wrapped around his cock, and close to release, undoubtedly affected by the enticing scent of an excited female, he pulled back and pushed in an attempt to get deeper, again, driven only by an instinctive urge to penetrate, to mate, to shoot his seed inside this willing mare—anywhere inside her. She allowed it, for she wanted nothing but the same, but moved her head with him so he wouldn’t make her gag.
She’d be more than happy to let a smaller penis slide inside her throat until her lips reached the base, but he was simply too large for it to be anything but an impractical, uncomfortable feat. Celestia was much more concerned about getting him to orgasm, to tasting his essence, and for that, her mouth and the delicate touches of her flexible tongue were much better suited.
The cock fucking her mouth was eager to get as deep as possible, but she kept her throat out of reach, instead providing additional stimulation by squeezing her lips as tight as possible and keeping a pressure against the underside of the shaft with the entire length of her tongue. It was more than enough, for after only a few thrusts, the cock-head flared to nearly twice its size inside her mouth, puffing out her cheeks. The frantic thrusts stopped, and in a last-ditch effort, he pushed his length as far in her as he could. Celestia closed her eyes in anticipation of his hot, delicious seed spilling on her tongue.
Sperm rushed from his throbbing cock and the first spurt shot straight into her throat, surprising her, and giving her no choice but to swallow without appreciation. The back of her mouth was filled before the first load had disappeared, so she could only gulp down the warm semen as quickly as possible as if her life depended on it. It was too much too quickly, the spurts coming faster than she could swallow. Overflow escaped past the flare and leaked from the corners of her lips, dribbling down her chin. She opened her mouth wide and pulled back to remove the squirting head from the entrance of her throat, hoping it would offer her a breather. The thick ropes flooded her mouth, coating her tongue and teeth and bloated cheeks in a sticky white bath, and she was still forced to constantly empty her mouth in gulps.
After having drank multiple mouthfuls of cum, the spurts finally slowed down and she was able to savor the flow of warm liquid slowly washing down her throat, calmly sucking and lapping the last dribbles straight from the tip. His softened shaft, still thick and long, slipped out of her mouth with a wet pop, and Celestia let out a long, throaty, ‘Ahh’, as if she had been severely dehydrated and just had her fill. She gathered all the remaining stickiness from the corners of her mouth with her tongue and swallowed that, too.
She brought the quickly shrinking, glistening cock back up with a hoof and once again put it in her mouth to lick and slurp it clean, sucking any residual cum out of the soft head. That was just proper conduct. It wouldn’t do to let the stallion leave in a coat of his own ejaculate.
As his cock shriveled back into his sheath, sated, emptied, and relieved of pent up arousal, he pulled back, and, after a moment, left the stall with the same muffled sounds as when he’d entered. Celestia was confident that the experience had been better than he had hoped for, and that he would certainly want to return, perhaps even tell his friends about the cock-loving, cum-guzzling whore in the stalls. Sadly for them, one would have to be incredibly lucky to stumble upon her.
Celestia caught her breath as she stared up to the ceiling with lidded eyes, unable to ignore the liquid mass sloshing inside her. Only then did she notice the wetness sticking to her chin, and she brought up a hoof to wipe the thick glob from her coat. She looked at the glossy mound, how the red light reflected off it, and licked it from her hoof. She smacked her lips and actually tasted his sperm for the first time, as the warmth and thickness of the spurts overwhelming her mouth far overshadowed any of the other characteristics. While it didn’t taste bad at all, it wasn’t quite as delicious as she always fantasized in the heat of the moment. It was more the idea of swallowing down mouthfuls of stallion seed that was so arousing to her, making it delicious by extension.
Of course, if she knew who were on the other side of the wall, it would undoubtedly influence her ideas and arousal. Celestia knew a lot of ponies in Canterlot—stallions—and did not view them all favourably. It seemed that, generally, the richer and more influential they were, the less she could stand them, and the less tempted she’d be to have their cock in her mouth. It was why she could only do this if she did not know who was on the other side of the wall. She treated them all equally—wanted to—even though she knew she must have been pleasing some stallions whom she’d rather strangle instead. She could not afford to know, for that would ruin everything.
They couldn’t know who she was, either. If they knew that the regal princess sitting on the throne in front of them, denying their absurd, selfish requests with a stern, disapproving look, had, at some point, been moaning in pleasure with her lips wrapped around their cock, her belly filled with their seed… She did not want to think about that.
It was a delicate position to be in, and there was little room for deviation—even less for error—but it worked, and was satisfying enough.
She dabbed her face with a wet cloth and rinsed her mouth clean. It was so satisfying, in fact, that she thought she could very well end up staying for a long while. Cherry would be happy, but she didn’t really do it for her.
Celestia pulled the cord again.
