Solar Flares and Sunspots
Author's Note
So... Not based on a roleplay, really, but I wanted to write something short and sweet.
Here ya go.
Contains: anal sex, cum inflation (mild), excessive body heat, fluff, Futalestia, internal cumshots, masochism (mild), petplay, rough sex, and shower sex.
Tell me which Princess I should feature in the next chapter, if you wanna see more. Feel free to leave critiques in the comments and hit 'dat like button!
That's how popular people sell out, right?
Solar Flares and Sunspots
Spot liked to believe that she was good at her job. It was fulfilling, and kept her ever demanding belly full. Filling the role had come quite naturally to her. It wasn't very different from her previous job.
Incubating had been her career for at least seven years before the Queen came to her with a proposition: leave the Hive behind forever, cease all communication with her family and friends, and never go hungry; or continue with her current job and deny that she was ever offered such a choice.
What little family she had at the time was aloof, disinterested in the admittedly repetitive life of a broodmother, and hadn't reached out to her for years. She'd had friends, of course, but they were... well, she missed them on occasion, but they were understanding when she told them that the Queen had assigned her a special job. They had bid farewells and shared love one final night.
The next morning, she remembers, guards had come, dragged her still waking body from the pile of aromatic friends, and cocooned her. She remembers the feeling, being so wonderfully compressed from all sides by a thick mesh of sticky silk, immobile, aware, but constrained. She looks back on that memory now with a special fondness. She had been removed from her old life, assessed for any illnesses, and sent away.
Perhaps she had fallen asleep before the changeling guards escorting her to her new home were replaced by pony ones. She remembers the stallions' voices, slightly muffled by her cocoon, but distinctly foreign to her then lazy mind. She remembers chirping once, calling out to her escort, and them responding in less than welcoming tones of voice.
She remembers the first light, the walls of her cocoon being breached by the tip of a spear, narrowly missing many an opportunity to pierce her exoskeleton. Her symbolic rebirth was an hour of pride for her. She still remembers the first time her eyes were laid upon the ivory fur of her new 'owner'.
That brilliant fur practically shimmered in the light of the sun to which its hue was credited. It still did, even in the choked light of the shower. Celestia above her, the changeling grunts and chirps with delight as her powerful mistress's hips rock back and forth. The Princess's girthy, throbbing cock plunges deep into the smaller mare's puckered ass, producing dry 'fwop' sounds each time its medial ring is drawn out through Spot's tight pucker.
Spot's tattered wings quiver in the steam laced air adjacent to her shoulders, periodically jumping into a bought of loud, obnoxious buzzing whenever Celestia's flared tip reaches the end of her pet's anal passage. The wet glass squeaks in protest when the burst of wing movement shifts the changeling's chest up slightly, sliding her thick exoskeleton against its surface.
The petite changeling's adnominal plates distend slightly with each upward thrust of Celestia's hips. Spot can feel her sensitive inner flesh squeezed painfully against the inside surface of her three green stomach plates. She whines and whimpers as the rough treatment only escalates.
Teeth hold the corner of Spot's right ear, causing her more pain whenever the hips behind her slide back, allowing her to fall slightly against the clear glass that contains their shower. Her azure eyes roll back in their sockets each time the Princess thrusts again, forcing her medial ring, and a good portion of her rough sheath, back into the poor changeling's ass.
Speaking over the telepathic link they've built, Celestia whispers into her pet's mind, "I'm so close." Her thrusts become noticeably more forceful, and her forehooves begin to slip from the positions she's assigned them on the glass wall: above and to either side of her pet, each approximately a neck's length from the changeling's snout.
Spot's mind fumbles over the message, desperately scrambling to respond in any coherent manner. But her brain is so lost in the act, so distracted by the heat of the moment, that she doesn't respond at all. Her wings buzz, propelling herself down against the upward thrust of the Princess. With a loud yowl, the sphincter separating Spot's anal passage from her centralized stomach is forced open. The mare's hips twitch, and her vibrant blue vulva winks against the glass, before releasing her cum onto the transparent wall.
Celestia bites down harder on the changeling's ear, drawing sweet green blood from her pet. She feels the tip of her cock flaring inside the changeling's stomach, and then grunts through her nostrils.
Thick, virile spunk erupts into the changeling's stomach, eliciting a secondary climax from the smaller mare. She's such a sucker for pain, and the familiar, searing heat of Celestia's seed makes her limbs freeze up. She just remains still, save for the heaving motions of her chest, and enjoys the heat that floods her belly.
Celestia's nostrils flare, and send puffs of light orange smoke onto the changeling's forehead. It rises before it can touch her pet's exoskeleton, still hotter than the air nearing saturation with steam. The alicorn's feathered wings slide between the glass and the changeling, holding her up while the Princess backs away.
Spot, now with her back held to the alicorn's stomach, begins to drool onto the floor of the shower. Her saliva is washed away by the steaming water, of course, but, still, Celestia notices.
With a soft murmur, Celestia sits down against the wall, and replaces her wings with her forelegs, wrapped around the changeling's chest, holding her pet in a sitting position while the water washes over them. She loves the moments like these, the rare occasions when, even after she has spent herself, her thoughts don't immediately return to the busy day ahead, and she can truly relax.
Spot cranes her neck back, and brushes the end of her snout against the warm muscles of the alicorn's chest. Her flat forehead, from which her horn was removed through her own shapeshifting powers, finds a place to rest between Celestia's pectoral muscles, which are more easily distinguished when her fur is matted down with water.
Celestia leans down to meet Spot's lips with her own, and the two close their eyes. Lips do not part, tongues remain still, and heads do not shift about in a passionate battle, but it is a heated kiss. The Princess of the Sun slowly reaches a hoof down her pet's smooth underbelly, until the corner of her hoof finds its way to the changeling's stomach plates. She glides her hoof over the cracks between the three plates, tactility dictating to her brain just how distended Spot's stomach is.
The changeling squirms slightly, releasing muffled sounds of delight and content into the liplock she shares with her mistress.
The alicorn draws back after her hoof has slowly run along the upper crevice three dozen times, and smiles warmly down at the smaller mare.
Spot speaks first, using a calm, sensual voice that tickles Celestia's mind, massages what few nerves she's tensed since her climax, "I missed you."
Rather than remind Celestia of the exhausting trip to Saddle Arabia, the comment further soothes the Princess. She knows the peace of mind that only a changeling's magic can grant her. Spot knows her so well, calculates what areas of her brain to cloud, and, essentially, blocks all sources of stress for a time. Nothing worries her. She knows that she will have to do other things that cause her stress, but she doesn't care, and she doesn't remember any specific items on her agenda for the day.
She just exists separate from her work, perfectly relaxed, and the changeling on her lap sustains that peace. She doesn't remember how long they spend in that position, letting the water run over them, hooves sliding over chitin and lips locking again and again, but it doesn't matter.
There is just the two mares, their embrace, and the running water.
Lunar Eclipses and Moon Pies
The hallway seemed to extend forever in either direction for the poor, beleaguered guard. His plain purple armor bears scratches along his hindquarters, focused along his right flank. His right foreleg lacks its standard issue legging. He's not sure where he left it, but he's not exactly eager to turn around and look for it again.
His ragged breathing is the only sound in this part of the castle. No other guards are posted nearby for him to spread the word to. He gulps nervously, rising from his slumped position against the wall where he'd stopped to rest his legs.
Sweat matts his light blue fur against his toned body. Muscles built and toned by the rigorous training exercises of the EUP Guard are visible where his armor fails to cover them. He'd always resented his Sargents for the constant drilling and exercise routines, but now he must silently thank them. If he'd been any less trained, perhaps he wouldn't have escaped the attack so well, or with all his legs attached.
Starting up the hall with a slow, limping gait, he gradually gains speed as the possibility of what he'd just witnessed occurring again drives him to run faster. Muttering under his breath, he tells himself, "Better hurry."
Less than two seconds after the last passes his lips, he can hear them: footsteps, each ringing out through the hall as metal shoes meet the floor. They aren't as close together as his own footsteps. Whoever is following him must be considerably taller than any pony he's ever met.
He begins to beat his wings, adding some measurable amount of propulsion to his gallop. But it doesn't seem to matter. The creature behind him is getting closer. His sonar ears tell him as much.
He can sense a pair of terrifying eyes trained on the back of his neck, something powerful trying to push its way into his mind, something telling him to run faster.
His fear does the job, and he races past doors and windows at considerably impressive speeds for a bat pony, whose style of flight is more focused around agility than speed.
He knows it doesn't matter. The monster will be upon him soon. He can feel her breath on his haunches, hear her strong, overpowering heartbeat, practically taste his own panic in the air.
And then, the monster falls back.
He doesn't notice for a few seconds, and only even registers the lack of her presence after he's passed at least fifteen doors. He slows to a stop, looking over his shoulder, and then begins calmly making his way back.
Had any of what just happened been real, his actions would make no sense to an observer, and there were onlookers, hidden from sight.
And, indeed, Princess Luna was baffled by the events playing out before her. She didn't understand why the beast had stopped pursuing her prey, and just when the fun part was about to begin.
The guard no longer shows any signs of injury. In fact, he's dropped the act altogether. He's broken character completely. Upon finding the spot where he was when Nightmare Moon was closest to closing the gap, he tilts his head to one side, and looks around. "Zeleeka?" he inquires, finding not a trace of the antagonist of the production.
Now Princess Luna was, herself, curious. Had Zeleeka only called off the chase for the sake of later pounding on the guard, she would have done so by now. She'd let him realize she wasn't in pursuit, and then still given him time to relax, and even break character.
It is now that the guard turn to face the floating orb through which the Princess of the Moon was watching, and smiles warmly. In a burst of bright blue flames, he drops his disguise, and says to her, "Happy birthday, your highness."
The alicorn blinks, dismissing the sensory projection spell she's used to watch the shows her pets put on for her.
At precisely that moment, small wisps of black smoke pour into her field of view from the back of the room. Her emerald eyes widen as she realizes what they're doing.
Her head whips around to face the rising form of Nightmare Moon. Familiar, and yet alien eyes stare down into hers. They pierce her soul, and any plans to remain separate from the scene her pets have arranged for her melt away.
Fear floods and freezes her mind like a supercooled cocktail poured over a mechanical watch. Panic wells up in her chest. She opens her mouth to scream in abject terror.
Already, black smoke has covered every inch of the floor deep enough for stray tendrils to crash against the edges of her bed like waves against weathered cliffs. She scrambles back against the head of her bed, and shrinks back, surrounded by the convex walls of the crescent moon frame. Her hind hooves kick blanket and pillow away, and she plants her forehooves on the insides of the bed frame, trying to root herself in this position, to keep the monster from ripping her away from all semblance of security and protection.
Regalia and crown, she realizes, were left on her dresser when she was told that the stage was set. She had prefered to enjoy the shows and herself without such attire getting in the way. Not that her yoke and crown would do any good to protect her, but she feels underdressed, considering Nightmare Moon wears her helmet and boots everywhere.
She is mildly surprised when a bare hoof emerges from the writhing pool of smoke at the foot of her bed. It rises until its ankle can be distinguished from the identically colored mass, and then it hooks onto the edge of the mattress. From this, Luna's darker self begins to drag herself from the floor. She shows no sign of attempting to harm Luna, but simply having her evil side on the same bed is plenty terrifying for Luna.
Nightmare Moon smiles as warmly at Luna as possible with such terrible and sharp teeth as hers. A cool, commanding voice that calls to mind the soothing sounds of nocturnal creatures and chirping insects passes through the specter's lips. "Have you missed me, Lulu?"
The use of her pet name simply did the Princess a world of confusion. Now fully immersed in the role of herself, and gathered around the mental campfire of belief, she was allowed to accept this reality, one that would never be true. Perhaps to every other pony, that was a good thing, that Nightmare Moon would never rise again.
But to Luna, Nightmare Moon had been a needed companion, a confidant and, yes, bedmate. She knew that she could never bring Nightmare Moon back, that fulfilling such a selfish desire would cost her sister and Equestria dearly. But she still missed those first few nights, the feelings of safety and content that her darker self had given her.
Luna's eyes snap open, and she gasps sharply. Looking down, she bears witness to the sight most desperately desired by her naughty side.
Nightmare Moon's eyes were closed, and her forehooves rest on Luna's inner thighs, holding spread the alicorn's vulva, into which her long, wicked tongue makes slow, languid journeys.
Luna throws her head back, and instinctively rests her right hoof on the back of Nightmare Moon's head. She feels the gentle tickling sensation of her evil side's ethereal mane on her hoof, and takes note that the black alicorn isn't wearing her helmet.
The two alicorns of the night are alone, together, and naked. And they aren't locked away in the dream world where actions are meaningless beyond memory.
The end of Nightmare Moon's wonderfully flexible tongue finds its way deep enough to prod Luna's cervix, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from the Princess.
The two remain in that position for a while, one appreciating her mistress's love, and the other comforted by an old friend who she can never be reunited with.
Author's Note
Contains: cunninglingus, lesbian sex, pseudo-rape, roleplay, and implied voyeurism.
~~This one miiiiight get a special secret ending later if you guys are interested.~~