"Now," asked Trixie Lulamoon, High Priestess of Luna Selene Solutae, "Are you absolutely sure you're up for a no-holds barred naked submission match with Trixie?"

Shouldn't I be askin' that? Noble Cause wondered. The weight of her new position as Princess Luna's hoofmaiden, aide, and reverse wet-nurse still settled uneasily on her hefty shoulders. With one broad hand gripping her own huge bicep, she also wondered why she was shivering and Trixie was standing there, calm and smug.

When Noble Cause came to the High Priestess' quarters, Trixie Lulamoon was already naked, except for her hat. Proud and poised, with an agelessness that marked the direct and beloved servants of the alicorns, the smirk on Trixie's face made her seem more than merely "at home" with her heavy GG breasts. The lush blue mammaries were proportionally larger than Noble's own hefty pair, easily bouncing forward with only the slightest, delicious hint of sag.

Trixie's body still showed the athleticism of a former travelling showmare, taut muscles on long, slinky legs, lithe arms and an easy, almost bouncy stance. Oh, she had a pronounced curve to her tush and well-padded hips that were starting to accommodate to the passing of time. Other than that, Trixie Lulamoon's time as Archmage of Illusions had left little but a glowing elegance to her still-lithe form. She, at least, didn't seem to have the slightest problem with their goddess' preference to have her worshipers naked at all times.

Barring the hat, of course.

For her part, Noble was not yet comfortable with this aspect of her new life. Sure, she went without underwear easily enough. That was nothing new, a delicious thrill she'd indulged herself in for a long time. It wasn't like she was wearing much now, either. Not even her tee and skirt, just a navy blue, sheer wrap that clung to every chiseled muscle it touched-- to every contour of her cream-colored hide, to every curve. It barely concealed her sex, and the thought of that made her wet.

Not to mention I'm thinkin' that a blindfolded mare could see how stiff my nips are, Noble thought. Her face stayed flushed, so she concentrated on her advantages. On her advantages, and not being put off by the widening grin on Trixie Lulamoon's blue face.

She towered a full foot over the normal mare in the first place. And while Trixie was, of course, quite possibly the best mortal illusionist, Noble knew herself to be strong-willed. Strong enough for her Goddess' purposes. That gave her a handy edge, and of course, she had quite a number of counterspells for illusions in general. No shopkeeper in a primarily unicorn city could afford to be too ignorant of the games conmares played, after all. When you added the reach advantage to that, and the fact that Noble's fireplug form could have fit two Trixies within her shoulder breadth, Noble just couldn't see why Trixie was so confident that her magic could overcome Noble's hyper might.

Feeling better about her chances, she swallowed heavily, frowned, and took a wide, ready stance. Planting her heavy fists on her broad hips, Noble managed to say, "I might be askin' you the same, High Priestess. Unless you brought a friend to tag in?"

Boom. The smirk… got smirkier. Not so boom. Trixie's eyes glittered with an almost hateful amusement, deep in the grayish purple of her irises. She smirked and replied, "What makes you think Trixie has any friends down in your weight class, pudgebutt? Powerwise, I mean. Not pounds."

As Noble spluttered, Trixie tapped her fingers against the taut curve of one hip. Considering the question, she pondered aloud, "There's Starlight Glimmer, of course, but shi's bigger than both of us put together, not to mention shi makes even the Great and Powerful Trixie's magic look second-place. And mistress, of course, but that would be thrice-thrice again as unfair."

Noble snorted. Trixie was definitely putting on a show, and resuming her third person speech patterns was the least of it. She kept her muzzle high, tossing the striped waves of her silky mane about, the forward curl almost gesturing for Noble to "bring it." Don't let the bi- High Priestess get you off your game, filly! she warned herself.

Putting on a show and putting on her A-game when it came to driving ponies mad, at that. Just before Noble could retort, Trixie waved a hand in her direction. The arrogant archmage cut Noble off with just a sniff. "No," Trixie said, dismissing her hyper opponent's 'threat,' "Trixie has no need of assistance to put an oversized lunk like you on her knees-- where you belong. Think of it as training for our Mistress, my new cult-sister!"

Eyes narrowing, potent fists tightening, Noble almost charged forward. She hadn't even pushed off when the violet glow of Trixie's magic shoved her back painfully. Not that it was a hard shove, but the smirking archmage had slammed a telekinetic slab of force right across Noble's tits. "Bitch!" Noble cried out as the door closed behind her, her temper claiming precedence over propriety and caution.

Shaking a snooty forefinger, Trixie clicked her tongue against her teeth and said, "Ah-ah-ah! Naked match. And we need to discuss terms-- no holds barred within the Lady's rules is what I offered, though I am surprised a newbie like you would volunteer to be Trixie's fucktoy." Noble gritted her teeth and braced herself against the wall. Again, before Noble could even breathe a word about competition, Trixie just went on, rambling over her. "Can't really call you a lightweight. You hyper mares. Almost as muscle-minded as stallions. No finesse, no control."

Trixie gave a condescending coo. "You could just surrender now, pretty pudgy," she told Noble. "Trixie will control you good. You'll even be thanking the Stunning and Mind-Blowing Trixie for putting you on your knees-- if Trixie leaves you capable of speech, that is!"

Was it possible for a laugh to double as two raised middle fingers? Noble wasn't sure it should be, but Trixie's dismissive chortle was giving it a good go. Swiftly pulling off her clothes and hurling them to the side, she snarled at the smaller unicorn, "Fuck you and fuck surrender; I said no limits and I meant it. We go now."

"No limits is against Mistress' orders," Trixie said bluntly. "Are you as dense as your thighs? Even the stallions know we swear to Her limits. I may break your mind, but I will put the pieces back together. I may leave you sobbing, but I will tend to you afterwards. And if you safeword proper, it's over." Noble just snarled, and Trixie glared.

Getting control of herself, Noble nodded. "Fine. No magic that harms the soul; no injury that cannot be healed, and restraint away from that as best we can. Other than that no limits and my granny's favorite grandchild will enjoy kickin' your rear end straight to the Lady's moon!"

Trixie waited, expectantly.

Noble wasn't sure what the arrogant cunt was waiting on, but she refused to be intimidated. She kept herself in place, breathing in measured, controlled increments, and waited right back at Trixie. Even if her nips were starting to get kind of itchy.

"Well?" Trixie huffed, her fat Gs bouncing.

"Well what?"

The Great and Powerful Trixie rolled her eyes at Noble, and made a dramatic sigh. "Is it diet?"

"... Huh?"

"Your safeword, pudgy. Is it diet?" Trixie clapped her hands together and bounced her heels. Wobbling, almost hypnotic jiggles followed from her soft, slightly droopy rack, while her hat twitched around like some manic bat's claw. "Ooh, I bet it is. Diet, and then moderation for your caution!"

Bam. Noble almost lurched forward, but held herself back. The effort rippled through her chiseled frame. The clash of discipline and wrath caused muscles to bulge and tendons to tense, bulking out so hard her heavy Fs actually flounced up towards Trixie. "No!" Noble snarled, her fingers clenching into huge fists.

Unfortunately, the only reaction Trixie had was… to reach down to her neatly groomed mound. Agile blue fingers stroked the archmage's stiff clit. She even had the nerve to moan a bit and lick her lips from side to side. Trixie's form had a smooth comfort to it, a casual horniness to each stroke and every self-caress. Even the dance of her fingers within her dewy mound just came off as… relaxed.

"Oh, don't mind Trixie, sweetie," she said, waving her free hand at Noble. "The Great and Powerful Trixie is just enjoying the pretty pre-show you're putting on, just for her! But do tell your safewords. I do need to know if my breaking is a bit too much for you!"

Wordless, Noble spluttered and growled and whinnied. She couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, much less answer Trixie's unstoppable irritation.

Rolling her eyes-- and rolling her throbbing clitty between two eager fingers in swift, happy motions-- Trixie moaned, then shrugged. Masturbating all the while, she said, "Fine. Trixe will go first, stupid hyper." She grunted a bit as her little mare in the boat sent a particularly good signal northward, and her forefinger and middle began a rewarding series of light, swift flicks.

"If you somehow hear Trixie yell, 'Mediocrity,' it will mean you have managed to irritate Trixie enough we should slow down," she told Noble, then bit her lip, groaning and rutting her hips forward against her hand before continuing. "If in some strange fluctuation of a cruel and uncaring universe, you manage to panic the Great and Magnificent Trixie, she will deign to scream 9-2-5 like a little filly until we stop and sure then you can kinda have a win, but who believes such nonsense in days like these?"

Eventually, Noble just couldn't take it any more. She wanted to fight so badly it made her horn ache. But she would never trespass against the Lady's Laws!

Not even to squish this fuckin' jumped-up broodie like the bug she is! she reminded herself, then grunted, "Asimoov. For safe. Caution's Jacques." She didn't trust herself to speak further.

Letting out a long, trembling moan of completion, Trixie shamelessly stroked one finger into her moist lips below, then brought her honey up to her muzzle for a taste. Clearly enjoying herself, she curled her tongue gracefully against the finger, then shrugged. "Would have thought you'd be all about the cows, tubby, and not yelp them in fear," she noted, then smirked. "Ooh, did one steal your favorite pie?"

"TRIXIE!" roared Noble. "Do we start, or are you trying to make me surrender just to get you to shut up?"

"Don't be stupider than normal, Noble," Trixie said calmly. "If you surrendered, the Great and Thesaurus-Taming Trixie would be sure to re-enumerate your faults in grand form while she turned you into a squealing, pleasure-broken slut. Well, turned you into more of one. You're even dripping while Trixie describes your fate."

Noble's eyes bugged out and massive expansion pumped through her potent muscles once again. Before she could say anything, Trixie smiled broader. "As for our little… contest," the smaller mare said, "Let us begin."

"Fine!" growled Noble, and decided to subvert Trixie's expectations. Instead of a physical attack, she'd show the bitch what her magic could do. She concentrated on her horn and…

Nothing. The same nothing as always. Fuck, Noble thought as she squirmed against the leather straps of her harness. The thick leather crisscrossed her from heavy collar, down forcing her cleavage into a heavy divide before circling her torso just beneath. It never fit right; the top of the leather always grated against the base of her well-beaten, worn tits. Another strap went down, meeting the thick waistband that had the anchors for her wristcuffs and the tie for her tail-rings. Below, of course, her stuffed twat and further overfilled asshole were "protected" by O-ring brackets around the base of her bitpurse plugs. Why do I even--

The thought was cut short as her already abused ass was slapped harder. "Trixie knows that Common Whorse didn't try to use her magic again, right?" snarled her handler. "If you give yourself a headache fighting the restriction ring again, Trixie will add it to your debt."

Noble whimpered. Her debt. She owed the Lady so much, and… Her mind shied away from it. She was grateful to her handler, though. The magic over her cutie marks kept her identity partially sequestered-- the marks were imprinted with her handler's or her jane's, as was proper for a public-rent slut like… slut like…

Her head ached, and this time, her handler had no mercy. The piercings through Noble's rings and clit lit up with heat, searing her. She tried to close her thighs as much as the spreader bar would let her, but it was impossible. Her plugged cunt ached, the labia engorging around the harnessed dildo keeping her sealed until someone wanted a use out of her. To her utter shame, her close-cropped tail flagged. The seven rings up from her tailbase meant her well-enema'd anus was on display all the time anyway. The slutty, naughty thing clenched around its plug like she could somehow please it enough to gain release.

The point was, her tail didn't have much range of motion as a result, but the shame was there, burning deep red through her white hide.

Public-rent sluts… like me... get used to the pain, she remembered. When your cunt and your tits are used to remind you that you fucked up, you start to crave them. Will I even be able to live without them when… if… I get out of this?

"Fucking hell, Whorse," grumped Trixie. "You're wasting time to even earn your feed and bunk for the day, let alone get ahead on your debt. Stop juicing and start wriggling. You don't want the Grand and Pimping Trixie to have to put a purchase of a nerve nullifier on your slate, do you?"

No. Lady Moon, no, please! was all Noble could think. A nullifier for her pleasure nerves would be another five years. Five more years servicing needy mistresses and if she was unlucky, stupid studs before she'd even be kicked out on the streets. Thankfully, fear and long repetition gave her the instincts of a good public brooder. She lowered her bound torso forward, pushed her head back as high as the thick collar on her neck would permit, and bent at the knees. The ready position.

Her current handler had taken her on as a pity case. Trixie Lulamoon, of course, could have bought her contract and just handed it off to one of her many adoring servants. Somehow, she'd seen something in Noble's flabby ass-- so flabby-- and she'd tried to make a decent prostitute out of her.

Something Noble had failed to live up to, again and again. It was degrading; and worse, it was an embarrassment to her handler and her Lady both.

It was perhaps only that the Grand and Pimping Trixie did not like failure that she was even still trying with Noble Cause, renamed Common Whorse for the duration of her indenture. An elegant, noble arm rolled out in a superbly amazing gesture, wondrously simple, and her pussy-watering fingers seized Noble's reins. A flash of perfect, flawless magic, and Noble's blinkers cleared out the world from distractions. She saw her handler's ass move in perfect, delicious, forever-beyond-her-reach strut, and followed it.

This was her life now. Stumbling on a spreader bar and pulled by a leash alongside a mare far more beautiful and talented than herself. She'd failed so hard at everything else; she was so grateful to the Grand and Pimping Trixie for just another chance…

She hadn't had a customer for more than a quick rimming in days. Word was getting around.

The beautiful rump stopped moving, and obediently, Noble stopped as well. She practiced holding her ball gag carefully, knowing that the teething on it would be measured. Her handler had to know if she could take a tit like a good slut, or if she was only good for horrible, dirty, humiliating work like sucking on stallion nut.

"The Grand and Pimping Trixie has an offer for you, loyal servant of the Great Queen Luna!" came Trixie's familiar pitch. Noble was inured to it now. Even with the Wise and Cunning Trixie offering her at a third market price, it didn't matter. She just hoped someone would want to fuck her useless body soon.

The remnant heat in her poor clit told her how unlikely this would be.

A familiar voice. "This the same meat you had last week, Trix?" asked the lovely, charming lilt of Moonbat, a member of the Royal Guard. Cute, short mane, perky striped tail over Guard-quality toned cheeks that Noble remembered well. She couldn't see any of it, but Noble fantasized about the dark hide she'd loved to worship and a moon-in-shield cutie mark she'd become quite familiar with for what Noble had hoped was a good price.

Not personally reporting to the Wonderful Queen of All Equestria, of course. Moonie was nonetheless high enough in the ranks that she'd been able to afford taking Noble home last week. She'd serviced Moonbat in an actual bed, rather than the straw or back alley she deserved!

"Er…" Trixie hedged. "Can we really be said to be the same, with the passing of time…"

Kindness from the guard tinged her voice, but Noble's heart dropped as Moonie said, "I'm sorry, she's just… I mean, I'd get a stallion if I wanted all that klutziness. She's so messy!" Trixie tried to argue, but all the generous mare did was sigh, shake her head, and put a half-bit into the slot in Noble's butt plug.

Moonie's voice was gentle, but final. "Call it a tip for a look," she told Trixie. "I do like all that extra padding and jiggle on a mare, but I can't blow my salary-- no, even at a quarter of market-- and not get something from it." The guard's athletic form swung into Noble's restricted view, and Noble lowered her eyes appropriately. She'd kiss Moonie's well-used boots for just a little more-- for anything!

"Aw, honey," Moonie said softly. "So squirmy, even if you were useless." She gently took the ring on Noble's collar and pulled her up, before putting another half-bit coin into the ball gag's slot. "There. A bit of jingle, and you might get a customer!" She paused. "Try a stallion, they'll fuck anything."

That was the best all day. Unfortunately, Moonie's final prediction hadn't proven entirely true with her fellow guard, Lieutenant Stone Bola. The few mares Trixie had tried along the way had no time for a known klutztongue. Noble of course knew that pussy was superior, but she would… her pride… her pride had been broken years ago.

She knew it. She had to.

In any event, Stone Bola was a fellow hyper, a huge, green-eyed pegasus who also worked for Her Gracious Majesty, if at a remove, primarily coordinating with the Adequately Amazing In Her Own Way Sister of the Moon, She Who Is Important For Food-Growing.

Noble's poor brain ached worse as Trixie tried to rent her to Stone Bola. It started okay, at first; he paid for a show and a cleaning. It was perverse, and Trixie didn't really watch, but Noble had done her best, really!

The ballgag was removed from her mouth, and she'd knelt. Her blinders were pushed back a bit by her handler; it helped a stupid slut like Common Whorse focus, but she needed to get up close and personal with filthy stallion bits now. Her hefty frame shook the floor a bit, but that left her leather-bound tits wobbling for Stone Bola's approval, and what stallion wasn't obsessed with knockers? None of them. She squeezed her broad shoulders, twitched her fat hips, and kept them rocking for him as he sprinkled coins into Trixie's hands. "I guess I could use a footbath," he rumbled.

The perversity.

She obeyed, of course. Her handler would have pointed things out if she hadn't been paid right. Curving her body as seductively as she could manage, swaying side to side, she tensed and rippled her abs in a sinuous show, just for him. Trixie definitely didn't want to see what came next.

Noble's thick arms were strapped to her sides-- why would Stone Bola bother to pay for hands he wasn't sure were good enough for even dick yet? She held herself proudly in place, even when she bent over double when the calloused stallion's foot was before her. Unlike Trixie, while Noble preferred females, even before her indenture, she'd been A-OK with studs. Fellating his toes was kind of like getting to suck cock, in a pathetic way.

She needed pathetic. It paid.

And it was a kind of pleasure an indentured broodie like Common Whorse was permitted to enjoy. Despite their spread, her thighs were thick with marehoney, her pussy clenching around emptiness that should have been the dick she wasn't permitted to have with each stroke of her tongue across the free pony's foot. She was nothing, after all. Nothing at all. Being permitted this taste of her own humiliation was so hot it made her sweat, and she had to desperately, clumsily lick her own sweat from the stud's hide.

Too much failu-- failure to… failure to what?

Her headache returned, and she stopped licking. Disaster.

A lieutenant's salary could have her servicing a, well, an adequate hyper cock in the guard's lunchroom easily. But the lieutenant just sighed. "Distractible meat, Grand and Pimping Trixie?" he asked, and gave a final clink in the jar. Then he just walked away, zipping up, and taking her chance to get ahead with him.

A harsh hiss and snort were her only warning to flag her stubbed tail and raise her rump high. She needed to be in a good position when her handler took a cane to her backside, or she'd get extra stripes. Trixie gave her flabby ass and thunder thighs the full zebra. Noble yelped once, then the gag was magicked back in, the back straps pulling roughly behind her thick skull. Then, patience with Noble's nonsense clearly gone, Trixie snarled, "Some part of you is still fighting this! Stop! You're wasting the Grand and Pimping Trixie's time!"

Huffing, she stomped off, yanking on the leash hard. Somehow, despite the spreader shoving Noble's thick, and fine, kinda curvy and squeezable legs apart, she managed to struggle to her feet and follow before the collar's punishment struck.

The rest of the day was mostly a blur, and not just because of the blinders. At most, she'd get some pity bits for humiliating herself-- one pervy nerd had eating quesadillas off her upraised ass, and Trixie hadn't bothered to keep the hot cheese from running over Noble's cutie mark-- but no sex. None of the real cash she needed, just to keep from failing further. Falling further.

And she wanted the sex, bad. Not just because she was a public use Common Whorse. A (supposed) funds-gathering tool rather than the debtors' prison Noble belonged in after failing Her Majesty so badly. No, because she had grown to like it. Wanted it. Needed it. Had to have it.

Even some dick would do now. However, as she followed the Lovely and Curvaceous blue butt in front of her, a little voice inside of her kept remind her that she could sell the second level of her contract to the Benevolent and Merciful Trixie. Pussy was what Noble Cause really wanted to service, horrible tonguework or not. The best mortal pussy in the whole of Equestria, nay, of Epona was right there, concealed from her by a fetching if kinda blingy pair of pants, and a gorgeously well-taken care of tail.

All she had to do was surrender. Give up any hope of being a free mare again, of even trying to worm her way up from the bottom of society. No more debts, no more public risks-- the Grand and Sexalicious Trixie's personal fucktoy certainly couldn't be mixing it up with other mares, let alone stupid stallions! No, Noble might be screwed on top of the Great and Powerful Trixie's Great and Amazing mansion, for all Canterlot to see, but she would be fucked by the Great and Powerful Trixie alone.

Wasn't that better? Wasn't that the sort of use Noble didn't just need, but would be so far a reward above her station as to be a blessing?

Noble's head ached so badly now. She didn't even see her potential customers as more than a the same blur as the ones who didn't even look at her now, all running together. Rejection after rejection, voices that she knew turned from familiarity to contempt.

"... and so, because the frankly Tired and Sick of this Shit Trixie is starting to think that even she can't cure failure this badly…" Trixie's voice penetrated Noble's malaise, and another voice she was sure she knew, sure she could put so much trust in, responded.

"Are you absolutely sure, Trix?" asked a lilting, but edged voice. Hard fingers grabbed her right bicep from the side, squeezed. If she'd been any use, she would have been too hardbody for that to hurt. It did; she knew her flabby biceps would be bruised-- without even a bit to pay for it. "I've seen all sorts of crazy nonsense, but she's like a fake hyper, right? Does she even stretch? Or is it all for show?"

Keyan. She couldn't see him, but she knew the voice. Barely deeper than a regular mare's voice, with a soft curl to it that made her shiver. Surely… she thought, hoped springing all of a sudden. He's-- yes, he, despite that soft voice and the marelike softness of his curves, a he-- done me favors before, surely he'll rent me for the night, surely this won't be a wasted day...

Trixie snorted. "The slug eats like a hyper," she retorted.

Hope grew cold as she could hear Keyan's eyes rolling as he said, "Oh, come on, Trix. I can see she eats like a hyper-- or a minotaur-- but that's because I can see all the flab around the edges! She's so out of shape she makes a court colttoy look like a lifter! I don't want to throatswab her and then get damaging government property on my record!"

No, Noble thought. Wailed in her aching mind. She couldn't help herself, she whined pathetically and surged hopefully towards him. A swift swish and a harsh thwack of Trixie's cane across her ass sent her fumbling, and… And Keyan laughed?

Something's screwy, a quiet part of Noble's mind said. And it ain't just me… She struggled to pay attention to that quiet inner voice, no matter how much it made the rest of her head ache

The laugh was harsh, almost guttural. And deep. Like a stallion's. Her ears kept telling her Keyan; her memory kept saying, Huh?

A kick from a dainty-yet-strong foot hit her in the side. It sent Noble tumbling over, and Trixie growled, "Hey! Paws off the merchandise, bub!"

"Oh, hush it," Keyan said, a liquid, sinuous whip in his soft, once-more high-pitched voice. Fear and hope and lust merged in Noble's head. Before the Brilliant and Well-Educated Trixie could give Keyan a just tongue-lashing, and not the fun kind, the slinky femcolt tossed her a moderately sized bit bag. "Just take out what she's worth."

Open-ended, she realized, her head pounding so hard it felt like it was going to split open. He can do what he wants, and th-th-th Trixie isn't bothering to set new limits on him.

A pretty pair of fishnet-stockinged legs straddled across her. Keyan wasn't wearing much else below the belt; a little miniskirt stretched by his broad, soft hips so far it was almost a belt; a negligently tied cocksleeve poked down out of it into the stockings of his left leg, tucked against a plush, curvy thigh otherwise like its neighbor. Thick thighs and thick tool jiggled with every little motion, and he was sure to show off each one.

Below, a pair of stiletto shoes, each of which had its slight black toes glyphed with the diamond-imprint of his court matron, the Somewhat Capable Duchess Rarity kept his calves up from below, a broodmare's heft keeping his fat, juicy ass perky under his twitching red tail. No underwear, of course. Noble had never known him to… wait…

Her head ached again, and not just because of the confusing mix of broodmare-like lushness and the bulging femcolt dick. Which… a very odd, unfamiliar voice in her head was saying was naturally icky? What the fuck? wondered Noble before the headache surged and all she could do was stare at her customer.

Above the waist, all she could see was a grey hoodie for the most part over a slender torso and delicate-looking arms, though it was unzipped enough for her to see a mesh shirt over a toned, athletic chest. The hood was over his head, pushing a few red bangs forward around the base of his golden-orange horn, and the smirk on his lips was terrifying to Noble.

"Well, let's just see what we've got," he said coldly, squatting down and casually clenching her poor F-cups between his thighs. She felt the throb of his currently-bound tool to the left as he used her like a seat. He flexed a bit, lithe strength clutching her cruelly. He didn't stop there; long, thin fingers seized her muzzle with surprising strength. He put the ball gag off to the side after popping it from her lips and ordered, "Tongue."

Resigned to her fate, Noble extended her tongue. She wasn't surprised when he snorted, "Really? Really Trix? This is what you're trying to turn here?" He shrugged, and gave her breasts a harsher squeeze with his plump thighs-- fat and curvy and looking like they should be bearing foals rather than helping them plant them in someone's belly-- before rising and turning around. "Still... I haven't cum in like an hour."

That felt off, but Noble couldn't quite place it. With a fillyish giggle, Keyan literally walked all over her, sinking toe and heels into her belly and her broad chest just in front of her boobs as he turned around and began to lift his mini away from his exquisitely curved hind end. The pain rocketed through her. As did a fresh wave of shame as her pussy tried to convince her that the sensation was just as good as a lover's caress.

He slowly tugged his left fishnets down, and let his already stiffening stallionhood out with a languid sigh. Keyan shrugged, and added, "If your merch can rim me off even once, I'll keep paying to take her down into that conveniently filthy alley and use her for a bit. Give her a real pot belly full of my cum, you know?"

Noble should have been depressed by that, even though something in her was yelling, That's turning you on even if it's icky stallion cock! At least it's femcolt dick! She should have been humiliated. Ready to surrender. But as Keyan's plump tush came into view, she recognized his cutey mark.

And it wasn't his encircled quill and canoe, either.

It was a wand. A wand with a star on the top, and a ribbon-like crescent of lighter blue and stars.

In short, FUCKING TRIXIE LULAMOON'S MARK!

The illusion shattered.

Author's Note

Not done yet, but this one kinda went on, so I've split it near to halfway. Much thanks to Gold4tune for Keyan, Moonie for Moonie, and Noble for coming up with Stone Bola.

Trixie would like me to note that (a) if she can't have Luna, she does prefer mares with curves and (b) it is completely untrue that she has a second, invisible cutie mark of a gadfly.