Victor's Spoils, Blueblood's Fate

The first thing that struck Blueblood were the breasts. Or rather, the side of one heavy H-cup with its force buoyed by the sway of its twin, knocking the undersized hyper stallion out of the way of the nine-foot mare’s path. He steadied himself and shook his head clear of the stun.

Not quite the same way as when you were living the high life, old colt, he told himself as he began to mutter hasty apologies and back towards the wall. Where he once might have thrown a fit or marked someone for back-alley reprisal, his inner horror at whom he had become and the depths he had sent himself to would not permit even a posh sneer now. Just evasion, and curling in upon himself.

Blueblood knew it didn’t help his public persona rise out of the gutters of rumors very much, but he cared substantially less than it helped. There were two thousand, four hundred, and forty-two ponies whose opinion of him wouldn’t rise if he turned into the Alicorn of Apologies; twelve who could only be consulted by necromancers; two from whom his mind shied; six…

And six, he told himself, that you’ve been breaking your promises to, again. The speech you gave Fluttershy was right out of the Blueblood Version One playbook, wasn’t it? Blueblood’s recriminations lost coherency as he tried and failed to duck out of the way of the heavy mound of breastflesh that followed him after the initial whap.

He couldn’t quite meet the mare’s eyes. Not just his personal sense of shame. No, this was quite literal. Indeed, given her near three foot height advantage and the fact that each of her imperiously thrust breasts closed on four times the mass of his head, it was hard to see anything as she pushed him almost into a kneeling position.

As Blueblood tried to make his way around the entrapping rack, he thought he had enough clues as to what was going on, and his stomach tensed. From the forced-casual set of her broad hips and the huge, tensed muscles of her potent arms, especially where her vast forearms bulged with the effort to not ball into fists, this had to be a relative, friend, or loved one of someone he’d harmed before.

He’d used his magic to burn the memories of the ones he had harmed into his psyche. The lecture that Princess Twilight had given to him after that debacle… Well, he told himself, At least you will remember…

This mare wasn’t one of the ones he had harmed, either directly or by the use of his lawyers and less above-board factors. He’d shied away instinctively from most hyper mares in general, and he didn’t think he’d ever done more than make a pass at anyone over seven feet in height. He’d been stupid, not suicidal.

Still, there was something about the entrancingly warlike female’s scent, about the way she filled out her business suit, that was maddeningly familiar. Blueblood didn’t want to reminisce; didn’t want to know. He walked the servants’ access because the guards, at least, knew he had surrendered more than just in the ring to the Princesses. Knew that he was under their wings, and restrained by them.

Though thankfully, not how I’m restrained. His pants grew tight and he tried to focus on things other than the hammering tits as he tried to squirm away.

Only to be boxed in by another nine footer’s prodigious chest. The two mares were dressed in the corporate equivalent of a tattooed clanmare’s kilt and claymore. That is to say, exquisitely tailored suits and slacks with distinct enough visual style to be striking but enough complimentary and matching elements to show intersecting aesthetics. Close friends, briefcases with matching corporate blazons in hand.

Blueblood’s tenseness turned into a fist around his gut. This wasn’t the first set of mares to box him in, since it became clear that he was no longer capable of fiscally empowered vengeance. They usually stuck to words or snubs, though, given what they plainly considered the inexplicable protection that the Princesses still held him under.

Then the original mammary marcher spoke, and her voice was such a match for one of the twelve’s voice-- Sweet Canary’s-- that the fist opened. And Blueblood felt like his own guilt and shame would send him straight crashing to the ground. He froze, rounded softness over slowly improving musculature quivering slightly, then stopping.

Punishment, then. The two of them began comparing a male they’d shared, quite graphically, with former lovers. The analysis was interspersed with more professional talk of their positions at Lucre Industry Corporation, but the anger in both mares’ voices turned to mocking salaciousness almost at random between both topics.

Terrified and self-loathing alike, Blueblood froze. He would have remembered Sweet Canary’s voice and face even without the spell. She’d been the first to commit suicide under pressure from his lawyers and publicist. Not the last, once “old Blueblood” had gotten a taste for the power as well as the licentiousness. At the moment, he’d viewed it as triumph over a dragon.

In honesty, it had been a vicious character assassination of a mare who’d carried a foal of his to term that would have been oh so inconvenient. Money would have made her go away, but to acknowledge parentage into a line of Zebra alchemists that still feuded with Unicorn nobility had been an actual danger to his status within the Canterlot Crust.

Sweet Canary hadn’t had a lot of experience with males like Blueblood. She had trusted he’d do the right thing and had kept trying to find a “friendly solution” throughout the debacle. She’d just assumed he would post a parental bond and acknowledgement of extramarital inheritance until the very end, when his lawyers had moved for her juvenile record to be unsealed…

And had threatened to do the same for her older half-Equestrian sister. Almost certainly the same sister whose immense breasts were keeping him huddled against the wall along with a close friend’s.

Oh. I thought that fate had become less… pointedly direct with me. Blueblood kept his expression rigid and his eyes fixed on the floor. Of course, Sweet Canary’s sister would choose now. After all, he had broken his promises to go through the taming. Had stifled the ritual he’d chosen.

Given the large amount of very large entities that trafficked through Castle Canterlot, it was inevitable that the design incorporated not only the very strongest building material, but was enchanted to a fair-thee-well for durability. Nonetheless, some entities could cause the very floors to shake in their passage. Their Astral Highnesses Princesses Celestia and Luna, of course, but few others.

Among those few was the eight foot tall amazonian alicorn bouncing her way through the halls. Her mind on magic and mating alike, her enthusiastic power walking caused light tremors in whichever passage she took. The occasional hops, skips, and hip-checks that smacked the walls only accentuated the problem.

The profound jiggles this produced on the massive curves that complimented her titanic muscles did tend to make passers-by also forget about the shaking. No one really had the heart to ask her to stop, after all.

Horny, territorial, and needing despite an excellent session with Hopper, Twilight Sparkle made her way through Castle Canterlot. She was cheery, she’d admit, from said time with her coltfriend, but her hyper instincts were in high gear today. Honestly, her wings surprised her by not being stiff out or tensed to pounce. Maybe she’d finally gotten control of the darn things? She wasn’t entirely sure why she was feeling so boss-mare-meets-the-new-herd, anyway; the crowds of various other large species weren’t an unusual sight, after all!

Somehow, today, just seeing them there, all around, left her wanting to get pushy-- and to move to the more fun kind of results. As a result, on days like today, Twilight found it extremely useful that Celestia and Luna had forced her to learn to control her arousal. For reasons public and private alike.

She gritted her teeth again. Hooboy, she thought. Being with Hopper really is bringing out my aggression just a bit. Lovely, stimulating boy that he is. Drawing on her lessons from Cadance again, she re-focused from lust and aggression to love and fondness. She took a sort of calmness in remembering her last deep tissue massage session. It would make her a little sad to share him with any other than the Astrals, but, plus side, she'd get more Astral in her face! Good times.

The thought of extra time beneath Celestia and Luna's thighs had just finished soothing her when, her pendulous breasts swinging ahead of her turn, she rounded a turn and another minotaur guard delegation. She bulled through on personality and presence, and then she sighed a bit mentally as her ears picked up something she hadn't wanted to detect in a side passage. Amidst the other incoming sensory data, her nostrils scented semi-desperate stallion musk as well. Familiar semi-desperate stallion musk, and not in a fun way.

Instantly, Twilight's existing crankiness upped to "rather grumpy," even as she started to turn down into the staff passageways, past the guard with the appropriate inspection spells. Her own magic warned her of what was coming, and she’d have some words with the security coordinators. She told herself, At least if I have to deal with a supposed stallion by age who still is just a little colt in his behavior, I have a real stallion who'll be waiting for me tonight.

Even though he just graduated from colthood. She did, however, wish Blueblood had been keeping his appointments; she felt randy and hormonal enough right now she'd have to be careful with the poor little thing. He had volunteered for the rite and the submission, which gave her certain permissions to be aggressive, but she had to make sure she would never abuse that.

Twilight didn't really hold much animus against him any more, anyway. A twit he'd been, and insulted her friend; and ultimately, his behavior had entered into the unspeakable. That said, he'd paid the price in the arena, and while he'd been problematic since, he'd tried to do better. He failed occasionally, but he did try. She'd even become vaguely fond of him, in an ill-trained but well-meaning pet sort of way.

They were working on the training, too. More importantly, he had surrendered to Celestia willingly. Which meant his life and comfort were Celestia's to arrange-- and hers to protect.

Not, Twilight growled mentally, for two stupid office hyper mares who think that nine feet and a business suit give them the right to play with my boss mare's sub. She added a bit of stomp to her step. Nine feet tall with H-cup racks or not, big, muscled amazons or not, both mares immediately turned away from their target. The two jumped up broodies had been using their klutzy tits to block Blueblood from moving without crawling beneath their racks or legs. They'd even been pretending to ignore him while rather graphically talking about the packages and rumps of the strippers they had supposedly been watching the night before.

She did not approve of this nonsense. Her lips curled back into a fierce sneer that might have been ridiculous on her younger body. Now, with her body toned and trained from a decade of protecting Equestria and making friends with all who would take her hand, it was a warning. Do not fuck with Friendship.

For all that both mares were taller than Twilight, neither were as broad in the shoulder, nor as heavily built as she. Twilight's body had been reforged for war between the gods, or between the gods and titans. Earth ponies too, she thought as she glared wordlessly at both women. Both of them. Should have realized my disapproval was for them by now!

For a moment, she debated openly naming Blueblood her ward, which had the virtue of being true. Doing so now, though, would mean that the stupid overblown wimps would have to face her in the ring, however. For all the part of her blood-loyal to Celestia conspired with the part of her that was very protective of her friends, she settled, barely, on just chewing them out.

Struck by the fury of her gaze, illuminated by her mane bursting into empyrean flames, both mares went down on both knees immediately. Her wings snapped out behind her, flexing lightly in time with the crackle of fire around her horn. Behind them, better taught and knowing this fire burned on his behalf, Blueblood dipped one knee forward and carefully bent his soft, yet much improved body at the waist. Looking at the pair and noting the upset, pouting lack of comprehension, she decided for blunt language.

The arena was… unfriendly. At least, the public one. There would be no walking back from it for them, and she'd gain responsibility for them, as a result. Twilight did like taming a tall one occasionally, but neither of these two twats were worthy of eating her out, anyway. And even that vague confirmation would embarrass Blueblood all the worse. Especially if it was connected to the (admittedly true) rumors about what had happened to his private life and why he had abruptly stopped wasting his budget on cheap hookers and not-so-cheap parties. That, she judged, would not be as her beloved teacher desired things; more importantly, it would hurt a friend.

Even if she felt nearly as pissed off at him right now as she was at the mares.

"Ladies," Twilight said, narrowing her eyes. "While I am aware of some of the disadvantages of having tits that block off significant percentages of your default visual sphere, I am not particularly willing to believe that you didn't notice a pony there, waiting like quite the little gentlecolt, for you to move so he could be about his business.” A din of protests stirred her to raise a hand to cut off the pair's babble.

Evidently, the twits were shocked by her defending "that rake." Or calling him a “good pony.” As though she hadn't stepped up to the plate for worse ponies before.

"I don't give a gram of manure what you thought you were doing or why. Or what might have happened in the past. Prince Blueblood is a good little pony of late, and dear to his Aunt," she repeated. It happened to be true in more ways than one these days , but these twats didn't need to know that. "You have been amazingly disrespectful to him, and by extension, Princess Celestia." Twilight hefted her gigantic U-cups in her broad hands, some of the succulent flesh drooping around and between her fingers. "Challenges, not excuses, do you understand?"

As the mares babbled their apologies-- no one could be dumb enough to think that she had more than the lightest sense of humor about the diarch to whom she dedicated her heart and soul-- she let her tits drop and bounce. The heavy rack jiggled like an avalanche somehow in abeyance. She let some of the tension ride out with it, and focused on making sure that further nonsense of this sort was not likely to recur. Her horn glowed for a moment of concentration, then went quiescent once more.

Nostrils flaring, Twilight exhaled and said, "Ladies, this is pretty simple. I don't know your names. I don't want to; you've failed one of the basic tests of friendship. You don't want me to know either, since you've pissed me off muscling around back here. What you're going to do is give Blue your business cards, and Blue--" she suddenly turned towards the half-kneeling prince, who nodded his head, "You -will- report to me by the end of the week the charity to which they've decided to shell out a hundred K each." Blueblood nodded; the mares didn't dare protest.

Twilight jerked her muzzle towards the tunnel behind her. "I don't know why you're back here, anyway. But regardless of how, you're not allowed back. I have your herd signatures, and the guards won't be able to let you past the wards any more. Now get out!"

She minorly regretted the outburst; the frightened hyper mares literally crawled on their hands and knees past her. She hadn't wanted to humiliate them, but felt fairly certain they'd be back up soon enough. Pushing their minds around more, even to reawaken their pride wouldn't be healthy. Honestly, she felt more pity for Blue; the little mini-hyper would be paying a bit more for his avoidance of the Schedule than she'd originally planned.

But there had been an agreement. His behavior risked himself, and the last time they'd had to take him in for correction… Loyalty hadn’t been kind, and Dashie had only managed to restrain herself from vomiting at her Element’s rage until after the punished male had left that night, contained.

Blueblood made as though to rise and leave, but sighed when she fixed him with a glare. "I appreciate your intervention, your highness," he said in the soft, diffident voice he'd affected for the past few years. Their retraining had been good for him; he'd gone from occasional rapist and constantly abusive rake to being quite well thought-of in some circles.

Is it possible to make up for a life like that? Twilight wondered. Celestia had said that the rite Blueblood chose, harsh as it was, would help both to retrain him, and to make karmic amends for the awfulness he’d been steeped in. Of course, in some cases, only Fluttershy would know if it really worked.

And he’d been a little jerkbutt to Fluttershy, too. That said, at least publically, he’d become quite the redemption poster boy in public.

Which only made the two hyper mares' actions more unforgivably stupid. He'd become quite the leading expert on charities and helping to map into and explore the still-majority-wild regions of Equestria, as it happened. Though after a few of his longer term adjustments, he’d been restricted for very immediate reasons to trips of only a few days. Unless the site was near one of her Elements, of course.

But he’s been squirming out of things again so much he’s endangered his health more than if he’d gone to Germaney for a year! She pinned her fists against the proud vastness of her hips, and tapped her foot as she examined Blue.

Blueblood controlled his face nearly as tightly as other restraints worked below. By sheer force of will, he prevented the wince his growing arousal at being under the protective and wrathful gaze of Twilight Sparkle was causing. I could ask her… no. No, it’s all gone wrong. I just need to get away.

But he couldn’t move. Those fierce lavender eyes held him fast, on the one hand worried for him, on the other hand infuriated by his actions. Again.

Twilight just kept staring at him. The "tiny" hyper unicorn, a mere six foot six, swallowed heavily. "Your highness," he repeated, "I … know I may not have been, exactly following my part of the agreement."

"Don't," she ordered, and Blueblood bowed his head, silent. "I know what you told Fluttershy when she inquired after your health." She snorted and nodded when Blueblood closed his eyes in shame. She didn’t have to say it out loud, but he knew by the tone of her voice she was close to putting him and his rite completely in Mistress Luna’s hands.

In the hands of one of the two goddess-dominants who had the most contempt for him, and the least belief in his ability to manage his own affairs. He wondered if he deserved that harsh, blue hand; he hadn’t done so well, had he?

All Twilight said was, "Unless you wish to discuss our terms and the consequence for breaking them out here," and her voice lowered to a whisper, "Where ponies can travel by and hear our discussion, you will wait until you feel them cross the wards, and you will head into the linen closet down the hall. I'll follow; no one else will dare."

His face fell, but he swallowed heavily and nodded his acquiescence. Part of him continued to scream that he should just run. Flee. He had the right to refuse. Part of him wanted desperately to have guidance again, to help him out of his profound failure of late.

Far too much of him simply yearned to do whatever Mistress Twilight wished. However she wished it, rite or no rite. Two to one, old colt, he told himself, and scurried towards the closet.

Twilight watched Blue wriggle away, the handsome, if soft, little stallion squirming in a way that talked to a deeply lustful and hyper part of her pussy. But her heart and her mind were in control; she tended to him, tended to all her friends how they needed. The idea of humiliating a friend in public revolted her, and she restrained the urge to pounce her sub then and there.

She just rose and leaned against the wall. It looked like she would need to be a bit informally late to her beloved Princess, not tardy, thankfully. That said, she'd have more to report to Celestia. More to report, she thought. Something clicked internally and the horny parts suddenly suggested, And pictures to tease and taunt Hopper with...

Twilight had never invoked that part of the contract before. The private display punishment clauses… Mm, clauses. Of course, she'd never had a dom-happy coltfriend before, and Blue had been doing so much better until the last few months. He hadn't been eligible the last time.

Shortly thereafter, Blueblood clutched his dimensionally folded tote bag and left. She was glad to see he obeyed the safety rules, at least. As much as she preferred her hardbody studs and bitchmares, she did appreciate the view of the jiggly little wimp as she watched him go. She wouldn’t be sad to see him keep getting back in shape, too; it was healthier for him. She had charts, showing both upticks and plateaus!

The last few years have been good for him, she thought. We haven't let him keep the potbelly, just some cute little plush, and without as much reason or opportunity to indulge, he's gotten a little form back. A bit cushy for a hyper, but for a second or third status stallion-- or a stallion with an understanding lead wife-- he'd do ok, especially since Dove has been properly rehabilitated, too.

A sudden notion made Twilight wince. She really hoped that his intransigence hadn't caused Dove trouble, not with Rarity's spell on her. That had forced rehabilitation quite quickly, after all.

Speaking of Rarity, she thought, he's going to need to see her next. He's getting a bit shabby, and probably unfashionable in the wardrobe, and that was why the rumors started last time. The suit was a sedate cream, but it was showing signs of wear. The pants were loose over Blueblood's soft, rounded rump.

They had to have give around the rear and groin, of course. But custom tailoring came as easy as breathing to the Alicorn of Nobility. And she was willing to keep them up as her part of the rite. Indeed, Rarity's share of the ritual judgments had been that Blueblood would maintain certain standards for membership, if bottom-run, the royal herd.

A twitch in Blue’s well-groomed tail distracted Twilight’s hyper side from thoughts of her herd-sisters. The deep drives pushed an emotional growl over her alicornic kindness and she glared at his departing rump. Standards he isn't meeting by avoiding all of us. I'm going to be a bit rough on him, so I'll make her be gentle, she decided.

She stalked after him after waiting long enough to make sure no one followed. With a carefully subtle check and move, she quietly opened the door into the linen closet. She let her temper and lust play out in her body language.

Tense muscles bulged dangerously under her tight jeans; her ‘ceps put on a show beneath her hide as she seemed to push out in all directions with her full potency as an alicorn battlemare. As she'd intended, after she closed the door completely, Blueblood was forced back against the wall. In the tight environs, there was only a bare few inches between his strained face and her enormous, wobbling rack.

Horniness flickered through Twilight's body as she looked down at him. The sight made her lick her lips in anticipation. Here was her lawful prey, yet rebellious submissive. Kept tight against the wall by her bubble of imposing personality and interposing rack, his hands clutching onto bag. Small, barely muscled arms trembled almost as much as the juicy, enormous melons bobbing in front of his face. The dim light of the scant crystals flickered almost like old-style candles, and she thought it made him look almost as shifty as at his lowest, most conniving point.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and hornbase as he kept looking around, as though to try and find a way past her mammoth melons and mighty arms. She frowned. It looked like Blueblood still wanted to squirm, and she wasn't in the mood for that.

Blueblood fought the urge to wriggle his rear with the impetus to-- escape? Anticipate? He wasn’t sure. I could end this, he thought desperately. Right now. All I need to do is call on Clause 1, I…

A casual ripple of mighty muscularity rippled through the towering princess. She’s angry, he thought before his mind went blank of anything except how gorgeous the amazonian dominatrix standing over him was. The potent swells of hard tissue, the plush softness of her immense curves, those sparkling eyes… All of Twilight Sparkle seemed to be conspiring to reduce Blue to drooling all over himself.

The only thing that saved him from falling on his knees and begging then and there was the tight constriction of his locks. He began to double forward, then realized that would smack his head into her breasts, uninvited. The smaller hyper froze, eyes tracking Twilight as he started to wriggle, will he or nil he.

I asked for this, Blue remembered. When the money ran out and they ground my face in what I did. I wanted to be reborn. No-- remade. And I chose to belong to them, not as a stallion to a herd, but a plaything to their will. To Mistress Sun’s, most of all, and this is her enforcer.

Oddly, the thought was reassuring. Oh, Twilight Sparkle had certainly enforced his position within the rite more than any; Luna and Rarity didn’t trust themselves with more than light doses. But he knew she would help him. She never gave up on anyone.

Unless… Unless I pushed things too far? His eyes widened, his breath deepening. The contraction of the chest which had slowly been strengthened under Rainbow Dash’s stern training began to shudder. He didn’t know if he wanted to return to the usual grind beneath her heel, or if he wanted… more.

“Definitely feeling like you can squirm out of this again, Blue?” Twilight nickered, frowning at him. He could, of course. She-- the herd, really-- was obligated to test him, push him and train him back up from who he had once been. But if he did, she was done with this. With the rite. He’d have to face justice directly. So she waited, her tail tensing and her wings flexing.

Mind you, Twilight did enjoy good squirming in a plaything, but the terms of his contract prohibited her from using him to get herself off without his offering first. Even if he decided to try to negotiate, she was in no mood to lighten his punishment in exchange for a tonguejob. Despite how good he'd gotten from multiple trips between dominant mares' thighs; he did seem to belong on his knees with his face in pussy.

So she turned slightly, forcing him to squish up against the wall. She bracketed him, one of her magnificently rippling, giant arms resting slightly against the wall to his left. Completing the bracket, her jiggly mega tit ground up against the wall just past him. She made her intent quite clear with every motion of her amazonian body. Both her powerful limb and eager breast brushed up against him as she locked the door and cast a sound proofing ward.

As Twilight prepared to cast the sealing ward, he cleared his throat peremptorily. The flare of arrogance earned him an irritated glare and somewhat less care when she whipped back around to stare at him. As a result, her huge boob smacked into him with a loud crack. The unrelenting U-cups lifted him completely up off his feet and bounced the mini-hyper princeling against the rear wall.

Blueblood had something of a hyper's toughness, and they'd been forcing him to at least gym joint broodie levels of activity. Nonetheless, he slid down onto his tush with a loud yelp, and her stormy facial expression lightened just a bit at his helplessness. She sighed, shook her head, and said, "You’re pushing the terms of the rite again, Blueblood. You've been missing your appointments with my girls.”

Shiftiness flickered across his face, and some of her goodwill evaporated. That said, she'd gained a feeling for his neediness for sternness and external control as a sub-- as a pony, period. She felt a bit guilty about the trappings, but after all, he'd been the one to beg to be "forced" to be a good pony.

So it was time. Twilight’s eyes narrowed. "Blue,” she told him, “Don't even start. Don't deny any of it; we need to get started, now." she told him. As she pounced verbally, she placed one of her huge feet on his groin. Even now, she took care of him, carefully placing her bootheel on the stone floor to take most of her weight. She didn't want to harm him or what he'd sold to Celestia; just to get his full attention. As the smaller hyper squirmed, his horn flicking and flaring with half-cast spells, she sternly she pressed forward against the trouser-hidden secret of their success in taming his urges and tantrums. She made sure he felt it, though. Made sure to remind him that he'd chosen to be tamed.

Blueblood swallowed, and grabbed ineffectually at her big size twenty-two-and-a-half foot. "I… I have the right to decide to skip an appointment!" he protested. "You… I… I don't want…" he whined at her-- but didn’t complete the statement. He left it hanging, but couldn’t seem to deny her claim.

Nor deny his desire to be taken once again. She ignored the not-quite-protests, simply raising an eyebrow as he strained and sweated, trying hard to move her pinning shoe. She contemplated pressing forward more, but decided that pushing verbally would have better results.

Her gaze traveled up and down over his body with cold assessment. "You have the right to skip appointments, true," she allowed. The little unicorn’s body seemed to deflate, other than the tightness against her shoe. There was real fear in his eyes now-- not fear that Twilight would dominate him, however.

No; he was tensing like a rabbit beneath a wolf with fear that she might not. It left her grumbling mentally. He's protesting, and his shoulders are slumping because I might just let him slack more. How is that fair? She cut that misperception off with more sharpness than she might have if he weren't still playing stupid games this far into his ritual servitude. "Of course, I have the right to tell your aunt-- your mistress-- that you're making it impossible for me and mine to take care of you, Blueblood. Again. That you've violated your terms of submission. That you've violated your oath to protect yourself. Again!"

Twilight growled and he shuddered with more fear than pleasure. Good, she thought, though she felt guilty again. He's been a jerk. Gruffly, she spelled it out for him, saying, "Last time, it was Luna's punishment. Do you really want to find out what happens when your mistress has to handle you personally, Blue? Do you really think you're a tough enough sub to have a personal session with Mistress Sun? One on one?”

Blueblood swallowed heavily. Luna hadn't been pleased with him in the first place. She'd been substantially less than pleased to find out that Blueblood had been a major embarrassment to the Houses Alicorn and Platinum, nor that he had been racking up debts, regardless of whether or not the Houses would be paying for them. When word had reached her that he had then been considering chopping up part of Princess Platinum's original estate, she had been livid. She and Platinum had, after all, argued and become friends afterwards. That was how Luna thought things should be done between mares-- some form of fight and then boon companions.

Stallions who couldn't keep their gifts in their pants infuriated Luna. Or rather, as Celestia had proved when he had challenged her finance minister over a cap on his wastrelry, overgrown colts who thought themselves stallions made her angry. Twilight did have to admit that Luna was slowly coming 'round on tolerating stallions most of the time.

With Blueblood? She was so angry she had personally told him that his plans were going nowhere-- then ignored his tremulous attempts to force the matter with her. The Warmistress of Equestria was utterly unwilling to permit him him to challenge her in the ring, having no wish to see if he'd manage to provoke her into a more lethal duel. Nor, however, was she willing to permit him to cut up the Platinum Range. She'd had the law on her side, too; Platinum Range was his Ancestral Domain, and tied to the continued grant of Platinum's title to the line.

Now, usually, Celestia waived the law that said that if the Ancestral Domain slipped from the House, so did the title. She didn't want to discourage Houses from trying investment ventures or the like, after all. Often, the High Princess found reasons to be Generous with nobles who tried honorably and failed, attaching titles to new seats.

Luna had convinced Celestia to refuse to waive the requirement. It had left the spluttering colt at the point where he might have been sent into fiduciary management until his bills were paid. However, his persistent attempts to get Luna, Celestia, or even Twilight herself to punish him in the ring again had been suggestive that he might prefer a more private option. With less legally mandated records.

Oh, and because it was Celestia's ruling, he also could have simply sold off the majority of his lands and lost his title. "But you didn't want to lose your title, did you, Blue?" Twilight told him, not caring if he followed her thoughts or not. If he was sick or injured, it would be her fault-- she was looking after him for Celestia!-- and she'd accepted him as her sub, too. "You didn't want to become just plain 'Blueblood,' no fourteenth, no social prominence."

And so Blueblood came to them. To the royal bachelorette herd; not just her Elementals, but to plead his case before the entire herd. He'd been under Applejack's most potent Honesty that night, make no mistake. He had freely bound himself; had sworn an oath to be theirs, in exchange for upkeep and training.

They broke him of most of his bad habits. In some cases, only after he violated his oath, and the Loyalty components had punished him for it. Loyalty hadn't chosen the form until the last, but it had forced him to seek longer term, more invasive means of correction. Means that could only be broken if he really found Harmony in his heart, or if he joined another herd. They had no intention of letting him do so without making sure he'd both behave and be well tended.

Twilight watched him wince at the reminder, and began to gently rub his crotch with her massive tennis shoe, teasing over the contractual holder. "You didn't want to be that barbarian any more, Blueblood. But you felt you couldn't stop. What was the word those jumped-up, oversized broodies used? Rake? Only because by the time you got bad, only those who wanted rough trade would do you for any amount of money."

Color drained from Blue's face, and he whispered, "I haven't gone back to…"

"If you did," she growled, "You'd be feeling Loyalty's lash as an oathbreaker. Three times, Blue! Another unclaimed child fostering with Cadance, a smearjob for a mother, and then when your temper snapped…" The toe of her shoe tapped hard on a certain spot in his crotch. The metal beneath clinked, and he groaned, tongue lolling out and his body tensing. He must be really over the limit, by his reactions.

After a few moments, with no reaction, Twilight folded her amazonian arms under the tremendous roll of her chest. She grunted, forcing her anger back under control, and said, "Your temper snapped, and Loyalty snapped back. The geas wouldn't permit anything less than a total bind. And that means draining you, Blue! There's only so much the magic can do for you-- you know that. And I don't know if the oath would let us heal you from self-inflicted dissolution."

There were no protests. Blueblood shook his head, but she judged that was at himself, not at her words. She sighed and added, "That'd be bad enough. But it would hurt Celestia if you did damage yourself further. You know she thought the arena and your submission punishment enough. She grieved for you when you crossed the line again-- and again, and again! She had me and the girls watch you, and when Dove tried to rob you and run, Rarity bound her to your health-- you damn well better not have endangered her life too…"

"I haven't," he said hastily, his eyes wide as Twilight started to press harder against his shuddering groin with her heavy shoe. "I… I promise, on the final lock!"

Unimpressed, she grunted again. "I didn't ask you," she said gruffly, but nodded. "Good. So you haven't gone all the way back down,": she said with a sigh. "And perhaps more importantly, Celestia gave you a safeword to use," she noted, and smiled a bit as Blueblood's jowls blushed red. He was such a cute little squishy thing when he wasn't trying to be tough. She just wanted to tie him up and tit-smother him until he got over his snit! Nonetheless…

Twilight scooted her foot around and under him, rather than over, and she warningly prodded his plump ass, nodding at the fallen tote bag. As he scrambled to his feet, clutching the bag, she said simply, "And while you haven't dropped trou like you're supposed to, you haven't said 'Fancypants' yet, either."

Making up her mind, she glared. "You have two options, Blue. You can call 'Fancypants,' walk out the door and deal with Celestia and Luna tonight, or you can stay, get naked below the waist like a good overgrown colt, and let me seal the room. No, you won't be getting real sex with me. I'm not going to let you worship my pussy when you're like this. Not when I'm this angry. Pick, because you won't like it if I have to do so." Mostly because I absolutely will dump this in Luna's lap. I'm busy with an actual stallion to play with, thanks, was her silent addition.

Blueblood hastily knelt down and began to undo his business shoes. She sighed, tension leaving her rugged shoulders as her anger fled. Her horn briefly blazed with light in the dark room, her magic spinning around the edges.

Safety and privacy ensured, Twilight looked him over, contemplating her own actions as much as his. The room was warded. No one outside would be able to look in. She loomed over the once-proud prince, silent as she considered him.

Mostly, she felt that Blueblood was managing to pull himself together with laudable quickness. She did make a critical whinny when he made to just toss his socks aside. That wouldn't do.

Remembering Twilight's compulsive neatness and the paddling his sensitive rump had earned from past sloppiness, he whimpered lightly. But again, he snapped back to the correct path instantly. WIth another swallow, he very, very carefully folded his socks to put in the shoes, the shoes neatly in the corner, and when he rapidly shimmied out of his pants, folded those up carefully, too. Closing his eyes, he made ready for the final step, and stuck his thumbs in the waistline of his very, very stuffed looking boxers.

Pity struck her heart. I wish I knew how to just tame him properly, she thought. It's a failure of Harmony; I just don't know what's wrong with him. But...

"Wait," Twilight said quietly, and gave him a wan smile. He swallowed, still trembling under her gaze, softened or no. She sighed again and nodded at him. "Just… leave them on for a moment and take off your jacket, please?"

Blueblood blinked. She could read the lack of confidence in his face. Not even Fluttershy generally told him 'please' anything or moved out of the usual checklist. Let alone me, she acknowledged, Twilight Sparkle, the checklist general. Not in years. "Ah… mistress…" he said, swallowing heavily and keeping his eyes planted on her shoes.

Softly, she said, "It's not mistress until you drop the boxers, Blue, that's the point. I'm a bit mad at you, and I want you to feel safe going into this. Trust me, please-- take off the jacket, leave your boxers on, and come over here.: She sat down with her back to the door, and patted a meaty, musclebound thigh.

There was no shiftness this time. He merely swallowed, took off his jacket, folded it up neatly, and put it on one of the shelves. Even sitting down, Twilight was immense by comparison. She didn't have to do much more than lift her gaze lightly to meet his eyes.

As she expected, she could easily see how nervous Blueblood was as he came closer. His horn bobbed and his pupils dilated. She gave him a sad smile, and held out her arms to him. Trembling, he took the offer. With a soft exhalation, sank into the impossibly muscled embrace of Twilight Sparkle, and she swept him off his feet like an oversized doll.

Twilight cradled the trembling Blueblood to one of her heavy U-cups silently for a few seconds. Then she sat him down with his legs beneath it, lying them across her treetrunk thighs. She carefully unbuttoned his top four shirt buttons, then his cuffs, as he stared up at her. She didn't speak yet, just gently caressed his short muzzle, and smiled a bit. In the arena, you learned that you're just a little colt, she thought, Learned it when she tamed your cock to her pussy, and you learned to be obedient to your mares when she tamed your cock and your hands to just her muscles' flex. What do I need to do to teach you to rely on us, little colt? To lean on our strength?

Blueblood swallowed as the silence dragged on, and she smiled. "So adorable, if so weak, my little Blue," she said softly. A tentative smile finally crossed his face; something of the handsomeness just clicked for once. She just couldn't help herself, and rubbed his just slightly fat little tummy through his thin shirt and undershirt.

Her hand was gentle, caressing the slight chub. Nothing like the potbelly he'd been developing before they took him in. As he squirmed about half-embarrassed, half-soothed by the giant hand's manipulations, Twilight giggled, oddly fillyish given her status as third mightiest mare behind Luna and Blueblood's perpetual wet nightmare of Celestia only. She tilted him back up against and over the mountain of her breast again, and kissed the top of his forehead. Dutifully, she stayed away from the hornbase

Crooning softly to Blueblood, the giant, dominant mare pulled her wings carefully from behind the door. In a gentle sweep, she wrapped them about the little male in her lap, who might be tall in any non-hyper company. As her wings sheltered her panting sub against her, she whispered, "That's alright, little toy. Cling on. I think I understand now. You don't really think you're a true, free stallion again, do you?"

The blush was adorable. It was possible her sweetiestud was biasing her towards redfaced males, but this was a different sort of blush, she thought. Less self-restraint, about the same amount of embarrassment, but more deference. Twilight cooed softly at him, and the once-arrogant prince abruptly clung to her gigantic breast. His trembling arms squeezed as tight as he could-- she barely felt it.

He couldn't manage much, not like her sweetly aggressive Hopper. Instead, Blueblood was almost like a drowning pony, clinging to her pillowy tit like a life preserver. "That's it, honey," she nickered at him, and smoothed his mane down. "You've just gotten a little scared and lonely, since all Dove does is take care of your cleanliness. A bit frightened of us to offer yourself to us, I think."

Twilight gave him a tender tap on the top of his head, to the right of his horn this time. The fear and resentment that held him to his pride evaporated, and he started to tremble and weep against her huge rack. Not denying her words but unable to answer her, either. With a shake of her head, Twilight sighed, and stroked his blond mane.

A gentle squeeze on the submissive male's rump made him groan and shift his hips, and she chuckled softly. Speaking gently, she told him, "You've come a long way, Blue. You're never going to be a stallion again, sweetie. Not a real, free one. A broodstallion; I imagine the title's been worn before in private."

Hanging his head against her mammoth melon, Blueblood mumbled his acquiescence. She stroked a strong finger against his loose boxers, pressing against the overfull bulge again. Her huge hand closed around his nutsack and the bindings on it. She waited until he met her eyes and told him sternly, "These balls belong to Celestia now, and whoever she chooses to delegate. So no dating for you; you might be tempted."

Twilight hugged him through his next crying jag. "But I'll see about getting your loneliness needs taken care of," she told him tenderly, then tapped his nose. "Come to us, baby Blue. I promise you, kneel like a good colt, and we'll make sure you get off as well as we do." Her face turned to a thunderous frown. "And you don't have to kneel, if you're threatened. Come before us; you have claim on us, too, and we will protect you." Those aren't the first stupid cunts to mess with you, are they, Blue?"

Her frown didn't seem to frighten him this time. Indeed, his whimpering stopped, and, if hesitantly, he was able to explain the matter. Blueblood admitted that relatives of some of the women he'd been… unwisely rude to, or to whom he'd humiliated via lawyers in battles over foal care, and other such provisos, had come forth to start intimidating him since he had withdrawn from the party life. They'd sensed weakness, an outcast in the herd.

They thought wrong, she thought fiercely. Twilight growled and hugged him tight. Yes, we'll take care of your needs, little colt. I'll get Celestia to marry you off to some nice, understanding mare who has some of the true traditionalist honor, someone who will understand Dove. I wish Rarity hadn't been quite so pissed when tying your destinies together-- I still can't figure out how to unknot it. And I'm going to find out who's been taking advantage of our little colt and explain very thoroughly who exactly are the only mares-- the only people, period-- allowed to do that.

Dove had learned that lesson. The little Prench wimp had tried to steal from Blueblood and blackmail him when she found out why he'd stopped being so rough with her during sex. And why his allowance for indulging her had been cut off.

She'd have been wiser to just leave, call it a bad job and split. Worst of all, save perhaps Pinkie's humor, it had been Rarity who found her out. Rarity, who took the role of dominant provider almost as seriously as Celestia and Luna, had descended on her with full wrath. The spell she had used had been full of terror for one who spurned Generosity and indeed every measure of Harmony.

Rarity had claimed, even when interviewed by the Astrals, that it had been done on pure instinct. Twilight did not think experimenting with the threads of their lives and fates would do them any good, and the Rainbow Power wouldn't summon for them. Either not bad enough, or the punishment was viewed as fitting by the Rainbow of Light.

From that moment on, Dove knew that any threats to Blueblood's health would happen to her threefold. Not spankings and other discipline that the alicorns gave him for being a naughty little herd slut, but illness or true damage. She had been given the option between anonymous service in the border guard or becoming his live-in nurse and personal groomer.

Twilight hadn't seen what Celestia had done to Blue and Dove after Rarity had linked them, and wasn't sure she really wanted to know what her mentor and lover was capable of when that angry herself. But these days, Dove doted on Blueblood, but simply didn't have the strength of mind to manage him and keep him from backsliding. Now, others would have to learn lesser versions of her lesson. She mentally noted to order Rarity not to get involved or interfere. She figured she'd set Pinkie on them, and Harmony help their souls.

But. Handling Blueblood was the problem now. She didn't want him to feel like pouting and sulking like a diaper-wearing foal was an option. He may have lost the right to be called a stallion, but even an adult colt needed some standards. Now he knows I care, Twilight thought, and her hyper drive to dominate quickened in her belly. Now it's time to remind him why he should be run to us for aid, and not worry us with this foalishness.

Lifting him up under one arm and carrying him with her with a dismissive casualness, Twilight stood to her feet. Once up, she unwrapped her wings from around him and stood him back on his feet. Face stern, she nodded, reaching into one of her pockets for a handkerchief to dry his cheeks. "It's time, Blueblood," she said bluntly, and a very horny part of her reveled in how he swallowed and nodded, hunching in on himself. "You've earned what you've got coming, haven't you?"

"I have, mistress," Blueblood said softly. The boxers were still on, but.

"So today, we have a caution safeword," Twilight told him. "You're to say 'hooker' if you actually feel flat out panicked, rather than just chastened." She frowned. "I will know if you misuse it, and you'll lose the privilege."

"Yes, mistress. 'Hooker' is my caution safeword."

"Repeat it ten times."

Blueblood obeyed and Twilight nodded. "Finish stripping below the waist," she ordered. "Show me the seed vaults of the royal bachelorette herd."