Author's Note

Characters used: Trixie Lulamoon
Perspective: Third Person
Fetish: Tentacles
Type: Clop

F#5: Black Magic!

That damned Twilight Sparkle! you think to yourself, pouting and throwing down your wizard's hat. How could the great and powerful Trixie be brought so low before such a weakling such as Twilight!?

Trixie is flush with embarrassment even now, her reputation in tatters because of Twilight Sparkle! Her mind cranks and grinds, trying to work through the anger and anxiety to find an answer. What makes Twilight so much better? How was she able to see past all Trixie's tricks, counter all her spells? That damnable library was the source of Twilight's power, and if she could loot it. . .

Clad in a black sneaking suit, face covered and mane held back by a bandanna, Trixie skirts around the edge of a window. The house is empty, Twilight and her watch dog Spike far away in Canterlot for some silly event. It's dark, and devoid of any life. A sliver of moonlight streaks across the bookcases in the main room.

With one last glance behind to make sure no one is around Trixie uses her magic to unlatch the hook on a window. She slithers in like a snake, silently closing the window behind her and creeping to the selection of books. Despite currently owning the house and being relatively safe, Trixie is smarter than to get cocky.

Without a doubt Twilight has laid out some sort of defensive spells on her books and home. Closing her eyes, Trixie strains her horn as she scans the room for the prickling of a magical ward. Nothing except from a massive spike of raw energy from one particular book. Trixe opens her eyes and finds her self looking directly at it. A black book, whispering gently in the dark to her. The room's light seems to ebb away, sapped by the book's essence. Trixie feels her hooves moving toward against her will. No, that's not right, not against her will but not with it either.

It slides off the shelf with a mind of it's own. A small yellow note on the side reads 'Spike: don't touch!" which is barely noticeable in the darkness. Trixie snatches it with her magic and flips through the pages, not noticing the terrible eldritch glyph on the front. Her mind races as she quickly tries to absorb the information.

Surely this is her most prized book, the power emanating from this tome is remarkable! The contents are a rambling of nonsense recounts of desert travels and deep caverns. No spells, no magic techniques, and yet why—

Trixie flips the page and feels a searing pain, her eyes well with tears as it feels like her pupils are burned off. Illusory visions of odd glyphs and odd, amalgamated nonsense words jump out at her. The wood of the floor sears and hisses as black marks are imprinted on it with ghostly brands.

Trixie stumbles back and releases the book from her grip, sweat dripping from her pores as she tries to rub her eyes. Book remains levitating, and the tickling sounds of distant chanting reach Trixie's ears.

What terrible trick is this? Some sort of defensive curse?

She scrambles backward to get out of the circle of runes only to press against a spongy, slimy wall of purple-black. She recoils and screeches, turning the other way and running into another set. Thick, rubbery tentacles with violent sharp suction cups. In a matter of seconds she's surrounded by them, on all sides, bioluminescent strips on thinner ones propping up between the cracks in the wall.

Trixie immediately produces a panicked teleportation spell, but feels her magic sputter out as the runes flare on the ground, and a thin tendril snaps out and tugs on her horn, wrapping around it with otherworldly strength and knocking her to the ground. With a grunt Trixie quickly tries to right herself, only to flop on her back as more tentacles snap onto her limbs.

She begins panting and groaning in fear, swirling darkness filling the corner of her eyes, snake-like green a purple illuminated tentacles weaving around her ragged pony frame. They swerve and constrict against her chest, the thin black material of her sneaking suit all that is protecting her from them.

She tries spell after spell but they all fizzle out, only emboldening her captors. What a foolish pursuit, stealing Twilight's secrets! Her breathing becomes ragged and the urge to scream out is intense, but her voice is gone! She opens wide but only a low gurgle comes out. Quickly her mouth is filled with one of the tentacles, going deep down her throat incredibly fast.

She gags and gasps, biting down hard on the rubbery appendage. It does nothing, simply retracting and then pumping it's salty slimy mast forward again. Trixie struggles to breath through her nose, sucking in as much of the stale air around her as possible. She almost doesn't notice her suit being torn by gnashing teeth, revealing her nether regions.

The sudden exposure to the air feels pleasing, but she squirms in shock and confusion. What the fuck sort of spell is this? Trixie's panic mind searches for answers, but finds little to do. What could she do? Bound, immobile, unable to use her magic?

The probing, slightly rounded end of a thinner tendril rides up and down her labia, flicking her clit as it rides up and tickling her ass on the way down. She bucks as much as she can, but can't resist the pleasure as it begins to build. She winks in arousal and the tendril leaves her mouth, strings of saliva and a thicker white substance coating it and her mouth.

Trixie gasps for air, tongue coated in a white slime of gritty, salty texture. She gags again, some of it spilling out the side of her mouth. She's given only this moment to rest, as the one working on her cunt begins pressing deeper. With a shrill cry from its victim the tentacle enters, sliding in and out with some ease do to her arousal.

Despite her fear, Trixie was quite heated. She was getting wet from the mouthfuck alone, as unpleasant as it was. Maybe it was the vile substance the thing had pumped into her that was causing her to go delirious and actually enjoy what was happening! She shudders at the continued thrusting into her puss, leaning over to look at it go to work.

A subtle bulge develops in her abdomen as it probes deeper, far deeper than any stallion. It glides along the walls of her canal, leaving a thick substance behind. Trixie begins sucking in breath more heavily as she works toward and orgasm, not quite against her will but not with it either.

She moans again, just on the edge, the tentacle throbs and pulses in her, delivering a new coat of paint to her uterus just as she cums. A soupy mess of a maregasm gushing out as the tentacle leaves her. She looks up at the ceiling, mostly blocked out by the tentacles, face hot with embarrassment and lust.

I wish Twilight were here to save me!

"What the heck?" Spike's young voice calls. Trixie's eyes shoot open wide, and a blinding light fills the room as the bulb overhead is flick on.

The light quickly evaporates Trixie's nearly ghastly captives, and they disintegrate into a blackish paste, dropping her harshly on the floor.

"Oh my god," Twilight cries, and Trixie vaguely sees her covering Spike's eyes with a hoof as she rolls on her side. Looking forward, she sees the two just at the open entrance of the Treebrary. Her new sneaking suit was ruined, covered in slimy whitish silver goo, ripped in several places. Her mane and face were sticky and covered with the demon's essence as well. She wipes some off her forehead before it enters her eye.

A pool of more viscous orange "squash soup" pooled around Trixie's thighs, mixing with the other fluids of black and white.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID BUT YOU'RE CLEANING THIS, TRIXIE!" Twilight shouts.