Author's Note

And off we go! For the duration, all Author’s Notes will be up front for content warnings:

This chapter contains M/MM Blueblood/Night Guard thestral stallions plus an aroused and dragonpony-molested griffon male!

Prereading thanks go to AJ_Aficionado and Silentwoodfire. So without further ado, enjoy!

25: Thestrals and Dragons and Griffons

“I see…” Luna replied as she gazed upon the unlikely sight before her; the projection from her horn showing not just Lady Requiem, but her sister’s former student and the previously human Twilight Sparkle, who looked both uncannily the same and markedly different from her Equestrian counterpart, sporting a more conservative hairstyle and large spectacles. “And do you think this plan of theirs can work, Lady Requiem?”

“I know not, My Princess,” the Royal Court Bard answered carefully. “All I do know is that these two were summoned to our world by the Friendship Map, so that would seem to suggest that they are indeed the ones meant to end this curse. Their plan is… unusual, and there are aspects of it I am uncomfortable with if I’m to be completely honest. But for all I have heard, I judge that it does have a chance of success.”

“Your words do not give me great confidence, my spellsinging friend.” Luna arched an eyeridge, sparing a glance behind her at the hundreds of dark-and-light furred thestrals who had followed her. “The map may have summoned them, but ‘tis not clear that it is for the purpose you say. And from all I have heard, I judge this little more than a desperate stab in the dark!”

“Princess Luna?” The image of Sunset stepped forward and bowed low. “I know we haven’t ever met... well, aside from your human counterpart, I suppose. But Twilight and I are very familiar with the problems this curse presents, thanks to the experience we’ve gained from her own version of it. We solved it once in the human world, and though the circumstances of it are a bit different here, we’re confident we have an answer. For it, we ask that you trust us and keep the town quarantined while we work.”

Luna stared at her for several seconds before replying. “Regardless of my human counterpart’s experiences—which I am not privy to aside from some decidedly peculiar dreams of ominous music I have picked up from her in the past—I know you by reputation only, Sunset Shimmer. And that reputation is not a good one; recent reports about your change of attitude withstanding,” she reminded her pointedly. “I was told by my sister that you were impatient and power-hungry. And Lady Requiem herself said you once attempted a forbidden spell in the Everfree designed to give you enough power to usurp Celestia herself!”

Sunset visibly grimaced as Twilight gave her a surprised look. “Sunset… is that true?” the latter asked in disbelief.

“She’s right. I did,” Sunset confessed with no lack of shame in her words. “I was a foal, and casting it nearly killed me,” she further recalled with some pain and a glance over at Delta. “So after Delta saved me from myself for what was probably the sixth or seventh time, I decided to start over in the human realm in the belief I could conquer it more easily, and then eventually make my triumphant return to Equestria at the head of a human army. It took this realm’s Twilight and the human Elements of Harmony to finally bring me to my senses and break the hold that darkness had over me. And everything I’ve done since then has been designed to atone for it.” She bowed her head in deep regret.

“But she did it,” Twilight spoke up on her behalf, startling Luna again at how alike the Princess she sounded, if a bit younger and at least slightly more unsure of herself. “And in time, she defeated the darkness within me, too, vice-Princ—er, I mean Princess Luna,” she caught herself a fraction of a second too late and prayed she hadn’t accidentally given offense. “We both have experience with this kind of corruption. That means we can both resist it, and hopefully repair it using a mixture of human technology and pony magic.”

Luna considered her words carefully before replying. “Very well. I do not pretend to understand such things beyond the odd human dream I may have seen, but for the moment, I see no better option. I give you leave to attempt your plan, but do not make your move until I arrive!

“For if you fail… then ‘twill be up to me to contain the scene and attempt my own intervention. With some help,” she glanced back at her assembled bat-pony battalion. “I will not advise you of my plans in case you are captured, but I will be on scene within the hour. In the meantime, advise Canterlot to be on the alert for signs of this… corruption, including that idiot Prince.” She rolled her eyes, never one to mince words or hide her disdain for him. “I’m sure he will be delighted to know that he is in charge until we all return.”

“As you command,” Delta bowed low, followed by a respectful one from Sunset and a startled, far more hasty one from the human Twilight as the communication spell ended and the connection was cut. “That gives us some time to wait.”

“I’ll run some more simulations in the meantime, and see if I can key the pendants to more quickly and thoroughly drain the curse energy,” Twilight suggested. “In the meantime, you two should power up as much as you can.”

“Very well,” Delta said, then sang again in a slightly different melody, causing a fresh communication spell—and accompanying projection from her pendant—to appear, the latter manifesting itself in the form of an earth pony mare in bed with a stallion.

She was rousted awake by a sharp ring from a matching amulet on her nightstand, out which came a projection of the caller. “Wha…? Delta?” The curly-haired and bleary-eyed mare stumbled out of bed, then bowed low, some signs of costume makeup from a Nightmare Night celebration still present on her face as she disentangled herself from her lover, who opened his eyes and then gaped at the image before him staring down at the bed.

“It’s okay, Cruise Control—it’s just my boss; sometimes she calls me like this. That said, it’s five in the morning, Delta, and I was having a very good night. So what’s wrong?” the mare asked sleepily but grumpily.

“Good morning, Five Stars. And my apologies to you, Mister Cruise Control. I’m sorry to wake you both, but we have a crisis on our hooves,” she stated simply, getting her longtime business manager’s immediate and undivided attention.

“This is an emergency—I need you to get word to both the Castle and the Crystal Empire that there’s a sexually corruptive magical curse on the loose in Ponyville. It’s very dangerous and virulent, and it’s possible it might have already made it to Canterlot. So please advise Prince Blueblood that he is in charge while we contain the situation, and by order of Luna herself, he needs to execute the Curtain Fall protocol...”

Alone in his opulent bedroom and curled up in a fetal position on his bed, Prince Blueblood was beside himself.

Every sense and every urge he now had was geared not towards sleep, or to thoughts of revenge for the treatment visited on him. Not even to curing the corruptive curse which continued to torment him, but to completing it. His nearly nine-inch erection—once his greatest source of pride and now his greatest bane—simply would not subside. And worse, bringing himself to orgasm only made things worse, not better, as it quickly became clear the curse required that somepony else bring him to climax in order to trigger its transformation.

In order to spread itself further.

He gave a choked sob at what his fevered thoughts and half-altered body was increasingly demanding he do; Rarity’s final mocking words about how long he would last before offering his princely plot to a passing Guardspony out of desperation still echoing enticingly in his mind.

NO! he shouted at himself, the idea increasingly irresistible despite his best efforts, not at all helped by the knowledge that his precious plot had already been pierced multiple times by his mistress’s organ, who took particular and rather malicious delight in seeing him enjoy it. She had addicted him to her, leaving him dependent on pleasuring her altered body for a fix. And worse, she had left him fully aware of it as punishment for how he had once treated her host, taking away both his voice and the ability to transform in the process.

It’s all HER fault! he wanted to scream as he was deprived of her presence, wanting to blame Rarity, Discord, or anypony but himself for what was happening to him, though he did take some satisfaction in the fact that Discord had been left even more figuratively impotent than he had, paralyzed by Harmony magic but helplessly aroused, unable to do anything more but watch and await his evident fate at the hooves of the Flutterbat or Pie sisters.

I hope they transform him into a statue like AUNTIE! he thought bitterly through tears and gritted teeth, deciding that leaving him in that state with Maud Pie was a better punishment than anything he could come up with. But even the thought of it did not salve his wounded pride or shore up his weakening will.

His alcohol stash ruined, he tried everything he could think of to not give in to the urges that were consuming him, from cold showers to sleep potions. When all else failed, he prayed to the Sun and Moon goddesses themselves—deities he didn’t even believe in—for relief. But nothing worked, and as he lay in bed with a erect and tingling organ and his anal orifice repeatedly puckering at the thought of being filled with stallion meat again, acting not at all unlike the marehood of a teenage filly in heat, he found himself wishing he could just rewind time and redo the entire wretched day as many times as possible to avoid everything that had happened to him…

To avoid everything that was still going to happen to him.

I am not a colt-cuddler! I… am… NOT! he told himself over and over again even as the visions of himself being rutted repeatedly by an Armored Guardspony would not go away. He suddenly imagined himself as the center of attention of an entire squad of them; his muzzle and tail being taken by each in turn until he’d been claimed by each stallion soldier, first singly, then doubly. The visions coming quickly now, he wondered what it would be like to take two of their organs beneath his tail at once, involuntarily orgasming yet again at the idea with a cry of helpless pleasure as he came all over his face and chest.

As always, climax brought no relief; his organ scarcely softening at all before surging back to rigid attention, his princely apples already swelling with a fresh load of seed even as the one he’d just released left his barrel and muzzle soaked. He licked it them hungrily, drinking in his own fluids, sensing the corruptive magic within it being quickly reabsorbed into him. It was shameful enough, but far worse was that he loved the idea of being cummed all over by a group of Guardspony stallions repeatedly, lapping up every ounce of their seed.

He stifled another sob as the urges got more and more powerful, heedless of his own wants or desires. This is the worst… night… EVER! was all he could think of as the memories of all that had happened to him replayed endlessly in his mind, arousing him even further. His body had been defiled; even the sanctity of his mind invaded by the Nightmare-possessed Rarity, who’d been scarcely less cruel or evil even after she’d expelled the demon, sending him away from her while leaving his addiction to her intact. He loved and hated her for it, and wished desperately for her presence again even as he loathed the thought of her.

Despite that, he vowed anew to not give in, if only to spite her and The Nightmare that preceded her. I’ll stay right here in this room! I won’t leave! I’ll magically seal the doors and have food brought to me! I’ll have to sleep eventually and maybe if the curse is not completed in a certain amount of time, it will fade and then—

Abruptly, there was a knock at the door. “My Prince?” An accented thestral stallion’s voice called from outside—it was the Night Guard on duty at that hour, and the thought of being taken in the tail by one of them only redoubled his excitement again.

His heart froze in his chest. “Y-yes? Wh-What is it?” he pulled the sheets up over his rigid organ and the mess he had made, equal parts of him mentally urging the newcomer to both enter and leave.

“My apologies for waking you, My Prince, but an urgent message has come in from Lady Requiem and Princess Luna. Your presence is required at Canterlot Castle at once.” A second thestral stallion called out from the other side of the still-shut entrance.

TWO thestrals…? His stallionhood somehow engorged even further, gaining another inch of girth at the thought of them as at that moment, Blueblood became certain the Sun and Moon Goddesses were both real and mocking him. “B-but why?” he managed weakly.

There was a pause before the voice spoke again, leaving Blueblood the distinct impression that its owner was exchanging a confused glance with his partner. “There is a magical emergency in Ponyville, My Prince—some kind of corruptive curse, and the Lunar Princess orders you through Lady Requiem to take command and lock down Canterlot against it. To that end, our orders are to attend you and escort you to the castle command room.”

Blueblood’s mouth became very dry and he could all but smell a fresh wave of magical pheromones radiating off his curse-infected body, already wafting across the room and reaching for his thestral stallion sentries. “I-I s-see…” he barely croaked out at the realization that his torment was nearly at an end, and that very shortly, he would at long last realize relief and the transformation he both dreaded and so desperately sought.

He fought one final, desperate battle within himself, but in the end, even he knew the outcome was preordained. “Th-then by all means, attend me…” he invited with a gulp and spasmodic lick of his muzzle, overcoming the final vestiges of his own fading resistance to reach out with his aura and unlock the door. “Enter at once!” he ordered them.

“Yes, My Prince,” the pair chorused in a tone of resignation as the door opened to admit the pair of armored thestral stallions, who barely made it inside the room before the same aura slammed the door shut and locked it behind them.

The pony holiday of Nightmare Night was just another night of work for the cross-continental Gryphon Express delivery service.

In truth, the young griffon tiercel named Peregrine Pacil didn’t much care for the day, and was happy to take the extra shifts given up by his pony and griffon coworkers who wished to take part in the festivities, both for the extra pay and simply getting to avoid the various parties.

Play cub dress-up games in homage to the legend of Nightmare Moon? Collect candy and give it all to her to keep her from consuming your soul? PASS! He rolled his eyes again as he neared his final delivery and destination of Ponyville, the last leg of his journey that had begun at sundown in Las Pegasus and had included stops in Appleloosa and Hoofington. Besides, why give up perfectly good candy? he couldn’t help but think; he was hard-pressed to admit he’d gained a taste for pony sweets since he’d started being a courier.

Regardless, that was as native as he’d go. He’d never understood the allure of costume parties, or the affinity that some of his griffon colleagues had gained for the pony holidays, whether it was the ridiculous mating rituals of Hearts and Hooves day, or the pine-soaked unity celebrations of Hearth’s Warming.

The former he especially disdained, finding pony courting to be completely backwards and sickeningly sappy; a product of both their skewed gender ratios and their pathological need to be ‘harmonious’ to the point that the very idea of mating rounds—ritual tests of warrior worthiness that preceded intimate affairs between griffons—were met with horror.

He sneered at that. They can have their flowers and candies and moonlit walks. Give me a good scrap with a strong eagless ANYDAY! he decided with a grin. Sex with a mare who won’t fight a proper round? I’d sooner be stimulated by a stallion screwing my TAIL! He snickered at the thought.

As he neared his destination, he was surprised to see a thunderhead in the distance almost directly over the town, lit up clearly by the lightning forking through it from within; the deep rumbles of thunder just starting to reach his sensitive ears.

Huh? What’s going on? There wasn’t supposed to be any bad weather over Ponyville! He recalled the weather schedule for his route as the wind from it reached him and he felt an odd shiver go through him as he picked up some spoor in the air he couldn’t quite identify, looking around to note the shrouded moon and the eerie glow both it and the lightning cast over the surprisingly well-lit town, which looked like it hadn’t gone to sleep at all.

That’s weird. Does look kinda spooky, though. Must be some kind of Nightmare Night thing… he thought with a shrug, though was surprised to feel a sudden stirring in his loins; one he’d last felt during an abortive mating round with an eagless some months earlier. Seriously? He looked down at himself, his night vision enabling him to see clearly the tip of his organ emerge; the cool air and breeze coming off the storm only stimulating it further, causing a slow but building tingling to become prominent within it.

That better go down before I arrive! He gritted his teeth and tried to will it back, only to shiver again more strongly, his lionhood rapidly reaching its full dimensions as suddenly his thoughts were clouded with fantasies of rounds and rutting. He licked his beak and suddenly wondered if any eaglesses would be on duty at the Ponyville Post Office he would be checking in at, which usually had at least one griffon liaison present to receive shipments from the Express.

Or failing that, any mares.

Wait, what? He blinked at his own thought, finding the image of being mounted from above by an earth pony mare, taking him belly to belly while he lay pinned on his back surprisingly sensual.

Or failing that, any stallions.

Wait, WHAT? His jaw fell open as he had a sudden image of himself being dominated and then taken beneath the tail by one. And worse, his long and very rigid lionhood responded to the unexpected fantasy with a strong spurt of clear fluid into the wind as his suddenly swollen leonine balls contracted and drew back partially into his body, the twin orbs feeling very seed-laden and somehow twice their original size as he neared the outskirts of Ponyville.

Abruptly unaware of his surroundings except for his extremely and exquisitely sensitive body which tingled with every touch of raindrops, his wings so stiff that they were almost unable to move enough to maintain his flight, he felt himself bathed by the wind-driven mists off the storm; the air itself charged with ozone and something he couldn’t—

“Look there!” A male voice shouted from above, breaking into his thought. “A new pony!”

“Not a pony! A griffon!” A delighted mare’s voice recognized as two flying figures swooped closer. “Our Lord does not have one as part of his harem yet! So let us bring him this one!”

“What…?” Lost in his own arousal, the words registered slowly to Peregrine. “Lord? Harem…?” He slowed to a stop in the air, hovering above Town Hall with his half-avian erection quite visible and prominent beneath his belly, leaving him unable to focus on anything except his throbbing lionhood and painfully swollen orbs.

“An excellent idea! Though I hope he gives us leave to take him ourselves!” the stallion’s voice replied hopefully as they dropped in on either side of him, revealing themselves in the moonlight to be… two half-dragon ponies with a furred back but scaled bellies, long draconic tails and large webbed wings to go along with a pair of impossibly oversized organs—even on the female, which also had a pair of large teats on either side of her sheath, all of which drew his eyes in turn and caused his muzzle and leonine malehood to drool.

Shocked at what he was doing—to say nothing of what he was thinking—Peregrine tried to flee, only to be hindered by his excitement-stiffened wings and hanging organ. But the pair of altered ponies quickly caught up to him and tackled him in midair, the mare—the mare!—somehow pinning his forelegs behind him like his griffon strength was nothing, holding him upright in place and tickling his ear with her reptilian tongue as the male closed in front, his slitted dragon eyes glowing with reflected lightning; the barest hint of flame in the back of his throat visible through his alarmingly pointed teeth causing the tiercel’s breath to catch; his shaft to twitch hard at the sheer power he could sense from the pair.

“Do not flee, my griffon friend. For it will not avail you!” The strange stallion promised as Peregrine had just enough awareness remaining to recognize that something was very wrong and to try and break the mare’s grip, only to find he was held fast; the realization that he was trapped and she was somehow stronger than him causing his arousal to surge anew, finding himself reacting as he had once upon losing a mating round and finding himself straddled from above by his mate. even as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from their exotic and incredibly alluring forms. “You are destined to be more than mere mail courier now!”

“But… you aren’t my… this isn’t… I d-don’t...” he began in some confusion, trying to turn his head away even as his exposed organ visibly pulsed before the dragon pony, his wings having increasing trouble keeping him airborne the stiffer they became, forcing the mare to hold him aloft—which to his shock, she did easily with but a single foreleg on his scruff while nibbling on his ears and reaching down with her free hoof to begin stroking his flight muscles.

The dominant acts caused his will to weaken further as he desperately bit back the cry of pleasure that tried to escape him; a half-swallowed squawk as he began to involuntarily bare his throat in offering only to catch himself one last time. “Please… I...” he managed one last time as he felt on the verge of total surrender to their strength and sensual attacks, finding himself unable to say the word stop.

“Shhh…” the pony drake ended his remaining resistance by drawing closer, grasping his chin and turning his beak towards him. He then kissed him deeply, beak to muzzle, blowing sweet smoke down his throat that forcefully and not unpleasantly reminded him of the time he’d smoked a Hookah in Saddle Arabia.

“I am Noteworthy, and this is Amethyst, my virgin friend! But fear not—our beloved Dragon Lord will relieve you of that burden and grant you the release you so desperately seek!” He drew a hoof down Peregrine’s feathered chest onto the furred area of the body, finding and rubbing the tip of his tingling organ which felt on the verge of climaxing explosively right then and there.

“V-Virgin…” Peregrine repeated the strange word as the hot and heady vapors scattered all his remaining doubts and drove his excitement to even higher levels. It felt like a spell or love potion, leaving him ready to obey any instruction from the beings who had bested him in what his mind took as an odd form of mating round, not resisting at all as the dragon stallion held him close and pressed his much larger organs into his belly.

The dragon pony took immediate advantage of his quarry’s new quiescence to pillow the griffon’s long, narrow organ between them, causing the tiercel to moan and push back against them, baring his neck submissively, ready to surrender himself to his more powerful captors right then and there. “Dragon Lord...?”

“Yes! For very shortly, you will be claimed by him! Very shortly, you will be one of us!” the pony named Noteworthy promised as he backed off slightly but still rained nips and kisses down on the tiercel’s face and neck as the mare did the same to his ears from behind, her own organs pressed into his back as she continued to massage his quivering flight muscles, turning him to putty in their hooves.

“One… of… you?” Peregrine repeated dumbly between the now-mutual kisses as, to his continuing shock, his talons acted of their own accord, reaching down to grasp and stroke the dragon pony’s twin drakehoods, amazed at their size and the powerful aura radiating off them.

Their magic and strong male scent called to him as his wings no longer flapped, so stiff they could only stand rigidly out to the sides, their tips and bases exquisitely sensitive and begging to be touched—an invitation the pair quickly availed themselves of, causing him to cry out as they brushed the ends with their own wingtips and—in a trick he’d never dreamed of—warmed the base of his wings with their breath to increase his circulation and engorge them with even more blood, increasing their size and sensitivity further.

“Indeed! And it would seem from that satchel you are a courier? You are now far more than that, my griffon friend!” the stallion promised, delivering a fresh smoky kiss as several more half-dragon ponies arrived, scrambling Peregrine’s thoughts further. “You belong to our Lord, now!”

They pouted mildly that Noteworthy and Amethyst had found the griffon first but took the opportunity to ogle and outright fondle him, his large and extremely aroused sky griffon wings spread out wide enough that many could brush his primaries with their breath and noses, while others took pains to examine and taste his exotic body; their noses and long reptilian tongues sampling his seed-swollen orbs, erect lionhood and even the opening beneath his tail, the flick of a tongue causing him to take a ragged breath and involuntarily move it aside to an immediate series of lustful growls at the display.

The reaction induced him to encourage it even further, flagging his leonine tail fully like he’d seen some mares do, resulting in several tongues and tailtips being drawn between his hind legs until Noteworthy himself shooed them away. Their caresses caused him to close his eyes tightly, shudder and moan as he felt himself being turned by their far stronger forms and magic into a mere toy for their pleasure—and for how easily they had defeated and dominated him, overcoming both his physical and mental defenses, he realized they had the right to!

“All in good time, my friend. So let us return to the castle to celebrate your arrival! For not only is The Nightmare defeated, but we bear a brand-new griffon haremmate for our Lord!” The other dragon ponies cheered loudly as they headed back for the castle with their exotic new captive in tow, Noteworthy holding Peregrine’s stiff and hopelessly aroused form aloft like a captured prize as they flew him back to their lord and master, eagerly awaiting his conversion and the chance to be with him themselves.

The two longtime Lunar Guardsponies were a salt-and-pepper pair of Highborne and Nightborne thestal stallions.

Like so many others, they had eagerly joined the quickly reestablished Night Guard following Luna’s return—an occasion that had been greeted with great joy in Hollow Shades and the other thestral enclaves throughout Thestralslovakia—and were very gratified to be assigned to Canterlot, where they were away from their kin but could at least be around their beloved regent more often.

The job came with drawbacks, however, including long hours and infrequent leaves. But beyond all doubt, their least favorite duty was guarding and attending Prince Blueblood for the night shift, as he was just as demanding and condescending to them as he was to the Celestial Guard’s day shift.

On a good night, they didn’t have to do anything more than stand outside his quarters and listen as he groused about the quality of his meal or the mare he was with. But on a bad night...

But on a bad night, they would have to roust him and then wait on him as he berated them endlessly for various imperfections, real or imagined. This, the pair realized instantly as they received the summons, was such a night, and for it, the two thestrals were resigned to their unhappy fate as they delivered the news.

“There is a magical emergency in Ponyville, My Prince—some kind of corruptive curse, and the Lunar Princess orders you through Lady Requiem to take command and lock down Canterlot against it. To that end, our orders are to attend you and escort you to the castle command room.” Sergeant Riesling just managed to keep the distaste from his voice even as Corporal Concord rolled his eyes, wondering if Blueblood would demand to wear his Admiral’s costume for the occasion.

There was a strange and noticeable pause on the other end, which was itself unusual; normally the Prince’s first reaction to be roused was to question the rank and breeding of the message bearer. “I s-see… th-then by all means, attend me…” he invited in an oddly shaky voice that gave both stallions some additional pause, the pair exchanging a glance with each other.

“Enter at once!” he ordered them further when they didn’t immediately obey.

“Yes, My Prince,” the pair grated out through clenched teeth, only to be startled as the door was magically slammed shut and locked behind them as soon as they entered Blueblood’s private quarters.

They both turned in surprise at that, but scarcely had time to consider it as they caught the smell of desperate arousal and intense male spoor in the air; their sensitive noses picking up both fresh and stale seed as well as powerful pheromones. It was a combination they’d last experienced during the Callisto’s Call hunt, which was a traditional means to introduce young thestrals having just reached stallionhood to their first mate through a test of hunting prowess.

Intended to get groups of males to work together; to face camp life and the simple task of survival as a team, it was a rite of passage bonded by the masculine virtues of physical contest and mutual respect. It was also an unspoken excuse to bond in other ways when the hunt went poorly; when all the pent-up stress and sexual tensions of a dozen or so aroused young fledglings facing the male version of estrus needed to be tended to by the others.

They were further surprised as they reacted like the teenagers they’d once been in the spoor’s presence, their cheeks immediately flushing and stallionhoods swelling beneath their bellies, poking free of their sheathes. Their tails even began lifting aside as they turned back towards the door to the Prince’s bedroom, only to realize that they weren’t the ones flagging them—a magical aura was doing that!

“My Prince…?” Concord called out as they sensed their flanks being caressed and a tingling warmth wash over his apples, which immediately responded by becoming heavy and laden; he swore he could feel them growing bigger under the odd magical influence.

“What’s going…?” Riesling managed just before he found himself face to face with his wingbat, their muzzles instantly drawn closer to each other even as their apples were fondled and swelled further under the strange magical influence.

“You two… are just in time…” A very disheveled Blueblood announced as he walked forth out of the darkness of his bedroom on stilted legs, like he was dragging himself forward unwillingly towards them.

“I’m afraid… that the magical corruption is here already. And I’m sorry, I can’t fight it any longer! And for it, I need you both...” he added in an uncharacteristically pleading tone as he stumbled forward further, visibly fighting himself, his pendulous organ swinging in wide arcs beneath his belly as he walked jerkily, each movement flinging a spurt of clear fluid onto the floor around him.

“Need us…?” Concord had a sudden—and strangely heady—idea of what the Prince meant, his membrane wings beginning to stiffen out to the sides, leaving him increasingly unable to fly.

“Y-you mean…” Riesling’s wings got rigid even more quickly as he had a sudden image of the Prince’s insulting muzzle silenced by being wrapped around the head of his hardening organ.

“Need… bat-ponies…” Blueblood licked his muzzle repeatedly as he shifted his efforts forward, beginning to stroke their rapidly lengthening shafts directly, encouraging even more blood into them and causing their hips to begin to involuntarily buck. The two stared at him in shock as they witnessed the Prince’s unlikely actions and sensed what was happening, but neither resisted, very strong memories of time they had spent on the hunt together abruptly asserting themselves from their Callisto’s Call a decade past.

Memories that recalled a surprise Everfree snowfall in October, a frigid moonless night, a campfire that wouldn’t stay lit… and a shelter barely big enough for one that had ended in a way neither had ever dreamt possible.

“Need to be… taken...” the Prince tried to restrain the words only for them to spill out of his muzzle, the admission both visibly paining and exciting him along with the two surprised and now-sorely aroused thestral stallions, who were beginning to kiss each other lightly even as they each kept a slitted eye trained on him, their more tapered equine organs now fully erect and pulsing.

“Take me… tuck me…” he made the invitation explicit by turning away from them and flagging his tail, lowering his front quarters to show off his inviting anal orifice, which began contracting repeatedly, all but winking helplessly like them in an enticement that caused them both to emit a sharp hiss and take an involuntary step forward, only to catch themselves from going further—just barely.

“M-my Prince, ‘tis not that we do not wish to—your flanks are very fine and so very ripe for the taking!” He explained with a nervous glance and swallow at Riesling, whose hot cheeks and strong musk emissions betrayed his own excitement just as much as the rigid shaft hanging low beneath his belly. “But our duty is...”

The rest of the words caught in Concord’s throat as he felt the Prince’s slightly diffuse but erotically charged aura wrap around his organ. It began dragging him and his partner forward by them, towards the waiting Prince, causing the thestral soldiers to stumble slightly as they moaned at the magical touch, the Prince’s grasp somehow more delicious than any mare—or stallion!—the pair had ever known.

“Your duty, Guardsbats… is to attend me…” The Prince corrected them, using his aura to raise his tail and spread his flanks wide, displaying himself fully.

“Yes…” With that, the dry-mouthed pair ceased what little resistance they had left, finding themselves with the Prince presented to them, and their throbbing thestral organs now all but demanding to fill his proffered plot. “We must… attend you…” Concord agreed as he stared transfixed.

“Then take me...” Blueblood beseeched them once more in a tone they never dreamt they’d hear from him as their wings reached full erection along with their stallionhoods. “However you wish. And as often as you w-wish.” He licked his muzzle repeatedly. “Rut me. Fill me with your thestral glory! Now and forever, I... am... yours.”

He gave a choked sob as his aura involuntarily activated again, this time raising up the dark-furred Concord and hastily if somewhat clumsily undoing his armor, quickly stripping him bare. The pieces fell with a light clatter to the tiled floor of the foyer before the Prince gave his partner the same, if slightly more frantic treatment, leaving the two bat-ponies as naked as he was before them.

“Yes, My Prince…” The two dark-and-light bat-ponies chorused as if in a trance, taking positions on either end of him, Concord compelled to exchange kisses with him while Sergeant Rieseling found himself, to his great shock, being propped up by the Prince’s aura and forced to walk forward on his hind legs alone. The tip of his phallus was then guided slightly clumsily but ultimately successfully against the Prince’s puckered opening as, on the other end, Blueblood lowered his head to meet Concord’s organ.

The pair needed no further encouragement after that, surprised at the ease—and sheer ecstasy—with which their throbbing and tapered organs entered the Crown Prince of Equestria.