A snowy winter morning, Prince Dusk Shine sat in the chair on the library’s second floor with a spellbook open in his lap, but his eyes spent far more time on the slimmer, more colorful one on the floor.

It was a Power Ponies comic. The same enchanted issue that had sent him, his little brother, and his 5 closest friends into its world, and nearly gotten them killed (or so they’d thought) fighting the green-maned antagonist on the cover.

The alicorn looked over to the other side of the room, where said little brother was stoking the flames of an expertly-built fire. For a second, he imagined grabbing the book with his magic and tossing it into the flames before the young dragon could react. The comic wasn’t even his, after all; they’d recently learned he’d taken it from the off-limits section of the Canterlot Library.

No. The disclaimer in the comic says that if you die in it, you just get kicked out. And he’s not a child anymore. we deal with worse all the time now.

“Aaaalrighty,” Spike gave the fire a final few pokes, then set the poker back on the mantle “Philomena’s cousin here should keep the whole tree warm all day so long as you keep throwing logs in.

“You really think defeating the Mane-iac again will only take you around twelve hours?” Dusk asked, concern still obvious in his voice.

“At an absolute maximum,” Spike replied. He turned around and walked over to the comic on the floor.

“How does time work in the comic? Maybe we should study that before--”

“I’ve read the story as it’s printed last night until I knew it backward and forwards,” Spike cut his brother off as he knelt down by the colored book. “And I already know what to do if the Power Ponies get captured. But this time, Hum Drum’s going to be a badass teenage dragon, and the Power Ponies will still be awesome superheroes.”

He dropped the smirk he’d gained smirk a second later and looked up to Dusk,

“Uh, no offense. You guys were great as Mare-Do-Well.”

Dusk smiled, both at the pleasant memory of guiding the girls from behind the scenes to teach Rainbow as a lesson and at how right he was proving to be about Spike growing up.

“None taken,” he assured, using his magic to pick up his spellbook and float it off to the right as he stood up. The soothing of his worries about Spike also soothed his anxiety about getting the extraction spell right, so he felt like he didn’t have to keep going over it anymore. “So, are you ready?”

The young dragon smirked again and opened up the comic book to the last page.

“You can return to the place you started when the Mane-iac is defeated. Take a closer look to join the adventure in this book..”

Just like before, a ball of white light that crackled like lightning appeared at the center of the open pages almost immediately. It quickly grew to envelop the dragon’s vision as he began to feel a pull like super-strong gravity bringing him towards the flashing magic. To avoid being blinded or hurting himself, Spike crossed his arms across his chest, closed his eyes, and smiled. The last thing he remembered was Dusk shouting “good luck” and a feeling of falling before consciousness was taken from him.

The dragon felt concrete on his back, and open, but not cold air all over his body that was now in far skimpier and tighter clothing. So far, everything was just the same as before

Look out, villains of Maretropolis, he narrated his story in his head as he opened his mask-surrounded eyes and sat up. He comes Hum Drum… nah. Still sounds stupid.

Once he observed his surroundings though, two distinct things seemed off. He was indeed on the same large rooftop as before, and around him was a large city to rival Mane-Hattan, but where he expected to see a giant moon in a starry night sky, he saw the orange of the sun either rising or setting in the distance. Also, judging from the direction he was facing, the Power Ponies should all be standing in a line in front of him, if indeed ponies simply assumed their roles when they entered the comic.

Confused, but not truly worried yet, Spike stood up onto his feet and examined himself, then his surroundings. He was indeed back in the heavy blue gloves and boots, black mask and red cape and belted-briefs. Spinning around again confirmed that he was in Mare-Tropolis. But something else was off…

No car horns, sirens, hooves, or chattering. Shouldn’t the Mane-Iac be robbing that store just below us?

His boots landing lightly on the concrete, and cape flowing behind him, the now dramatically grown Hum Drum dashed over to the east edge of the room and peered down over the banister. Below, he saw the same colorful, large-windowed jewelry shop (that stood out from its generic, grey neighbors as if the entire neighborhood existed only to serve as a backdrop for it) that Mane-Iac and her goons had busted through the front of when they’d come here last. Now though, a preexisting hole had caution tape in an X over it, and a sign on the right of the building boasted of a re-opening in two weeks’ time, confirming his theory.

This is a whole nother world, like the one on the other side of the mirror! Things continue to happen when outside beings aren’t using the spell to become the heroes. And that means…

Actually, it meant a lot of things, and raised many questions, the most disturbing of which was “Is every building the regularly appearing giant monsters step on in the comics full of sentient creatures?”

No. Celestia said she had her mages enchant this comic to create a simulation, and Dusk says that all studies have concluded that magically simulated beings aren’t alive.

Assuring his conscience, though, did nothing to change his circumstances. Time had still elapsed since he and the others were last here, and so if he wanted to have his adventure and get out without Dusk’s interference, he’d have to get to finding the Mane-Iac from scratch.

He took another look around him, considering the options his logic and the 31 issues he had under his belt told him he had.

It’s been less than a month for us, but comic books don’t follow the regular rules of time. Mane-Iac could still be in jail from when we last defeated her, which would make defeating her difficult, but she could also have broken out already like the villains always do.

Around him was mostly generic, sprawling cityscape, but he recognized a few Maretropolis landmarks from their illustrations, including a sky-scraper with an oversized pegasus landing platform he recognized as Power Tower; base of the Power Ponies.

Probably the best place to get intel and backup. The Mane-Iac didn’t notice we looked different last time, so they should probably just let me in.

Remembering how Hum Drum and the other non-flying or super-speeding Power Ponies got around and feeling confident again, Spike looked back to eye level and scanned the neighboring rooftops in the direction of Power Tower. As per convenience, most of them were close in terms of distance and height. It occurred to him that eventually, he’d come to the end of the block, and some panels depicted another Power Pony using their powers to transfer Hum Drum over longer distance jumps. Looking to the opposite street to his left though, he was confident a teenage dragon as fit as he was would be able to make leaps like that without much trouble.

Looking forward again, he leaned down into a runner’s stance and then took off on his powerful legs before leaping up onto the roof of the slightly higher building next door. His cape again flowed in the wind, and his boots, despite their light weight, had excellent traction on both concrete and roofing.

Spike leaped again, this time down onto a slightly shorter building. And then again, and again, Power Tower getting just the tiniest bit closer every time.

Although defeating the Mane-Iac the first time had certainly boosted his confidence, it was only running across the rooftops that Spike finally felt like a true superhero.

The large gap of the street was coming up, and he picked up the pace. It would be further than he’d ever jumped before, but even if this wasn’t a comic book, he’d read about pony athletes without a dragon’s natural physical gifts leaping twice as far.

On the last roof, he locked his eyes on the building across the street. He put his last step on top of the barrister and used the strength of his leg as well as his momentum to go soaring over the taxi-carriage-filled street below.

Is this what it’ll be like when I finally get wings? He thought to himself as he felt the air rushing all around him and through his cape.

The arc of his jump brought him safely to the other side, and just like he’d been trained, he tucked his head and angled his shoulder to roll when he landed. His execution of the roll wasn’t terribly comfortable, and he made a note to practice that useful move more later. He stood up and began running again, ready to repeat the exhilarating process until he’d reached his destination, but barely a quarter across one more roof, a shrieking cry split his ears.

“Help!”

With not insignificant effort, Spike brought his momentum to a halt.

“Please! Leave me alone!”

The young hero turned his head to the right where he was pretty sure the voice was coming from. Several roofs away, but on the same huge block, he saw the top of a gap between two buildings that looked like the top of an alleyway. The mare’s voice yelled “Somebody help me!” a second later, confirming she and presumably her attackers were in that alley, but Spike was already dashing over.

He came to the edge of one of the roofs and looked down to see a trash-filled dead-end alley, where a mare and stallion, both wearing trenchcoats and dark hats, were menacingly approaching a slimmer, blonde-maned mare in a winter-coat with her back against the wall and hands out defensively.

Button Mash might have dismissed the situation as pointless random-crime, but Spike had no choice but to intervene.

Quickly, the dragon posing as Hum Drum looked at his gloved hands and ejected his claws, which tore right through the thin fabric without displacing the rest of the gloves. He then looked back down to the alley, and again was fortunate, as the two stupidly grinning mooks were clearly savoring the moment too much, and he could still leap down from where he was and land between the two parties.

He knelt down and grabbed the side of the building with his left hand, digging his claws into the soft brick.

This always works for Catmare, he thought before leaping off.

Easily clearing the distance to the far wall, his claws dug into the soft brick, slowing his descent to the ground with a loud, but not unpleasant scraping sound.

The thugs spotted him at once but were evidently too surprised to react before Spike was within feet of the ground and used his legs to push himself off the wall so he landed on his feet.

“You know, there are easier and less painful ways to make money,” Spike said, getting into a fighting stance. He saw now that the mare was a unicorn and stallion, an earth pony. Nothing particularly distinctive about either of them; they were only the illustration version of extras, after all. “Though that last one doesn’t say m- uuugh!”

Spike’s taunt was cut off by a baton to the back of his skull. His head swan and feet wobbled, but Spike had quite possibly taken more lumps than Hum Drum, so instead of falling, he spun around, swinging his arm to deflect potential future attacks.

Now level with her, Spike recognized the mare he thought he’d been protecting, even through her dyed fur and mane. Her sinister grin and the baton, held by a whip of green hair extending out from behind her coat were dead giveaways.

“Mane-Iac!” Spike exclaimed, his voice somewhat slurred. The results of his head trauma were already turning from disorientation to pain, though, and he knew that that was the least of his worries. He’s fallen into a classic, perhaps even cliched hero trap, and now had two thugs behind him and a villainess he and his friends had barely beaten before in front.

“And her knight in shining spandex!”

Spike all but forgot he was in a comic book as his survival instincts kicked in. Even though Mane-Iac couldn’t kill or seriously injure him within the comic world, his last encounter with her was so harrowing that, now that she had the upper hand again, didn’t see her as any different from Chrysalis or Nightmare Moon. He had to remember what she was capable of, and give his all into fighting her.

Mane-Iac’s titular feature made her was lightning quick and unpredictable when attacking, but Spike’s ears told him the two mooks were advancing on him. Deciding he needed some space, and Mane-Iac needed less hair, he quickly inhaled, then magically lit and exhaled oxygen, turning his head around.

He instinctively shut his eyes while breathing fire, but he could feel and hear the narrow alley filling with the heat of green flames, causing Mane-Iac’s hench-ponies to shout and recoil in fear and shock. It would have taken far more than he’d taken in to seriously injure them, but thankfully, criminals were a cowardly lot, and simply singing their fur and burning their coats arms was enough to push them back several feet.

Mane-Iac, though, was a different story. Although he’s breathed his initial, hottest flame in her direction, hoping to singe her mane, he didn’t hear a peep from her. When his breath was spent, he opened his eyes to see the henchponies still shouting, cursing, and swatting at flames on their coats. He turned back around to face the villainess, still afraid, but grateful now he had some room to…

Breathe. He just had to gasp as he turned back around. Of course, he had to; he’d just exhaled the contents of his lungs, but he still felt stupid. Turning back to Mane-Iac, he simultaneously got a face and lung full of some kind of aerosol spray.

Spike waved his arms in front of his face and closed his stinging eyes, but he could feel it was already too late; his whole body started to feel heavy and his eyelids like they didn’t want to open again. He wasn’t sure any chemical in the real world could act that fast, but this wasn’t the real world.

Desperate, Spike forced his blurry eyes open and turned around to see the blurry outlines of the thugs, still recovering from the fiery scare he’d given them. Seeing no other option, he charged in their direction, hoping to get past them and out of the alley.

Before he’d taken two steps, though, he felt his legs lock together, and he fell forwards. Obviously Mane-Iac’s hair-doing. He landed roughly, but not painfully on his stomach. The costumed dragon could barely position his arms to push himself up before the last light in him went out.

When Spike opened his eyes, he was not remotely surprised to see the blurry image. Mane-Iac, in her full bodysuit-costume, sitting across from him in an easy chair.

Blinking several times, Spike glanced around as much as whatever was holding his neck to the back of his chair would allow, and saw that they were alone in a dimly lit photo studio, judging by the tall concrete walls and backdrops.

As his senses became clearer over the next few seconds, he noticed many more things about his situation that gave him varying levels of concern. One, Mane-Iac was grinning. She was almost always grinning, but the great artist Marev Wolfpony had set the precedent for giving her all kinds of nuances to her perpetual manic look, and he recognized this particular grin as an expression of personal dominance.

Of course, capturing Hum Drum was hardly a great feat in Power Ponies comics, but two more things Spike noticed explained her enthusiasm. He was completely naked, and bound to the arms, legs, seat, back, and headrest of a heavy, metal, but cushioned chair by Mane-Iac’s green hair that crisscrossed and squeezed almost every third inch of his muscled body.

“Gaah!” Spike exclaimed through his jaw that ached front the green wiffleball gag in his mouth, looking down at himself and tugging on his biological bonds, predictably to no effect.

“Good morning, my sweet Hum Drum,” Mane-Iac began.

“Hane-Hac!” Spike muffled forward, his tone showing both anger and fear. A part of him even said it as a question, as if he was asking the woman in front of him if she was the “real” Mane-Iac. Mane-Iac captured them last time, but no comic book supervillain would be allowed to strip, not to mention, unmask, one of the heroes to that their identity and cockhead was on full display, then bind them in a manner that felt far too much like a full-body grope to Spike. Gagging him also was unusual for her type of fictional villainy because, for as much as they liked to monologue, it would make the written conversations very one-sided and boring to read. It also, however, stopped him from breathing fire.

Does she know I’m a dragon? How...

“The one and only!” the villainess chimed, uncrossing and crossing her legs. Spike wasn’t paying attention to her crotch as she did, but the movement still had its intended effect when it sent ripples all over her body-suit clad figure, causing Spike to realize just what he was looking at.

The artists who drew Mane-Iac with sex appeal in mind obviously were correct. Powerful thighs, wide hips, and a cushiony ass, all below a Rainbow Dash-like six-pack and volleyball-sized tits. Did all that, combined with her, of course, flawless face make her objectively any more fuckable than any of the princesses or Spike’s female friends? Maybe not. But none of them were currently in front of him, in a nothing-to-the-imagination bodysuit while he was naked and half-mummified by an extension of her body.

Spike felt a pressure underneath his cock, and the villainess noticed just as fast. According to sourcebooks, she had limited sensory feeling in her hair; no pain when it was cut, but pressure, so she could feel the blood rushing beneath the scales and skin it was squeezing.

“My, getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? You’re going to- oh, don’t be like that!” Mane-Iac said as Spike craned his neck to the ceiling to avert his gaze. “Here,”

While staring at the ceiling and trying to think of unsexy things, Spike heard the sound of a zipper. Like a moth to the flame, Spike looked down. He told himself it was out of curiosity, but they both knew better.

Mane-Iac had unzipped the top of her bodysuit just far enough to allow full view of her mouth-watering cleavage while keeping her erect nipples only visible through the fabric.

“I’ve stripped you bare, I suppose it’s only fair you get a…” The villainess trailed off when she realized her boobies had already totally transfixed him. She’s had the same effect on males many times before, but it was still flattering to see had the body to stupify supposed noble heroes with just a flash.

Spike was snapped out of a lightspeed recollection of all the fantasies he’d had of tit-fucking Mane-Iac when all of his binding’s squeezed him firmly. He looked up to the villainesses’ eyes.

“Huhh Hu Hu Hhaa?” He said, the confidence of Spike the Brave and Glorious, not Hum Drum starting to return now that he’d accepted the stakes.

“A sidekick of my own,” she responded, repeating her leg crossing. This time, Spike got not only a sight but a waft of her costume’s puffy and darkened crotch. “I’d always dismissed you as the Power Ponies’ pet, but when you foiled my latest scheme, I realized just what a fine man you’d grown into. In every sense.”

Mane-Iac finished her explanation with another squeeze of Spike’s body, which made him notice that, despite his recurrent fear, his cock was halfway out already. His cheeks burned red and his mind raced.

Spike the dragon’s so much better than Hum Drum. So much… more attractive, too. When I re-entered the comic, I came back after we foiled her plan. To a timeline where Hum Drum has always been a dragon, too. But wait, does that mean she’s planning-

Spike’s train of thought was cut off by the brush of a lock of hair across his cockhead. He looked down to see several medium-sized impromptu brushes made of green hair aimed at his cock, which was almost at full-mast.

One lock brushed horizontally across his girth and more blood rushed downstairs. Then another moved across over his tip, then another up and down his length. In seconds, every nerve of his most sensitive organ was firing in response to Mane-Iac’s teasing.

“Hah-huh!” Spike stammered as the onslaught of tickling forced laughter out his obstructed mouth. One of the hairs around his upper right thigh branched out and encircled the top of his scrotum, and began to lightly squeeze, pumping more blood up into his tormented shaft. “Hay- huh -ahah!”

“Oh, do stop being so obtuse,” Mane-Iac said while adding several hundred smaller brushes to Spike’s torment by having them poke and brush against his balls.

That was too much for Spike. He burst out on a combination of a laugh and a scream and wriggled like Fluttershy’s breasts when she did… anything, tugging as his bonds, shaking band and forth, and banging his head against the cushioned headrest with what little give the collar of hair binding his neck to it allowed, desperate form some distraction or to put even a millimeter between his most sensitive organ and Mane-Iac’s teasing brushes. But he was bound so tightly, and his cock naturally stood so straight, it was hopeless.

“Gaaaahahahahahahehehehehehe!” Spike’s pained laughs turned to giggles as he ran out of air. By now, the squeezing and teasing had turned his pink member red with blood rushing to respond to the stimulation. Now, there was only semen left to enter it, and he could feel that process he knew Mane-Iac wouldn’t let finish anytime soon starting.

Spike literally gagged as he bit his gag as hard as he could, more for some other sensation than Mane-Iac’s ministrations than to futile try to force it out. The villainess’s teasing was too much, though, and he was soon back to laughing. The holes in his gag made it easier to breathe, and his giggles and whines just the right volume for her.

“I’ve already won, little sidekick. I exposed your identity to the press and all my friends in the underworld while you were out, and even if I hadn’t, these,” she emphasized by squeezing his balls again and effortlessly doubling her efforts. “Are your last moments as a Hum Drum. Or should I say “Colt Mayne?”

On the list of things Spike currently cared about, his alter-ego’s alter-ego getting exposed was pretty low. But he’d still had more than enough; fuck defeating Mane-Iac, just hold out until Dusk pulls him out.

Twelve hours. At most. I have to have been out for at least… but does it work that way? Dusk was right; a single comic book could theoretically depict the entire life of the universe, just with sparse details.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut hard enough to hurt, briefly, subconsciously accepting the pain from that, and his sexual torment as his punishment for his over-confidence in not listening to Dusk again.

The pressure in his cock continued to build, though. He wasn’t quite at that magical, damned point where he’d constantly feel about to explode, but he could practically count down the brushes and squeezes until he was.

He opened his tearing eyes to look at Mane-Iac pleadingly; not to show him mercy, but to at least continue her monologue, which would hopefully end with… something changing. He’d take dangled over a shark tank (in the comic world) to this any day.

Almost blessedly, he did see some sign that she was progressing in her plan. She stood up, causing one of her greyish-purple mammaries to fall out completely, revealing a dark purple, large, but erect nipple. The hairs binding and attacking him didn’t seem to even twitch as their source moved, but she was able to bring up a dark metal helmet with straps with yet another, thick strand of hair.

“Dr. Adorable’s build me this fine accessory for you. Stylish, isn’t it?”

Spike tried to listen to her over his own laughter and pain. He was there; there was no blood in his cock anymore, just semen. He needed to cum, to release, but there the hair just wouldn’t give him enough surface area.

The dragon tugged on his arm bindings. If he could get them free, he’d grab his own pole and make himself explode with a single squeeze. He didn’t care who was in front of him; his loins were on fire and about to burst at the same time.

Mane-Iac squeezed Spike’s neck to steady his head again, then brought the helmet over his head. Spike looked up into the helmet as it was lowered down, and saw that the inside was covered in wires, with lenses for his eyes and speakers for his ears. From that, plus what Mane-Iac had said, he could deduce that it was a brainwashing device.

Questions and fears about his identity and future flooded through Spike, and he renewed his struggles. He shook his body and limbs, tried to claw at the hair binding his finders, made every attempt to light another fire in his obstructed mouth, and of course, shook his head.

“Huuuuuusssk! Huuusk! Hahp!” The young dragon cried out pathetically, despite knowing there was no way Dusk could hear him. Mane-Iac only grinned and easily plunged his world into confined darkness by dropping and fastening the helmet.

Twelve hours. Twelve hours in the real world then I’ll be free. But that could be forever in here. Oh, Celestia. Is this how…

Spike’s thoughts trailed off as he realized something; the burning in his loins was fading, replaced by the slime of his pre-cum sliding down his engorged member. Mane-Iac had stopped teasing him. What did that mean?

The villainess answered that by impaling her pillowy breasts on his cock as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her cleavage was everything her hair wasn’t - warm, soft, all-encompassing- and so as soon as she squeezed her mammaries together, Spike’s eyes rolled back and he shot his load. Mane-Iac’s tits were big enough that she was actually able to trap a sizeable portion of his jism in her cleavage, but the pressure from a teased dragon quickly triumphed, and she got several successive pulses of hot, salty goo on her face.

By the time her new pet had finished giving his mistress her first tribute, the tops of her mega-tits, cleavage, and lower face were all painted white. Her toy already proving even more fun than she anticipated, Mane-Iac slowly licked the baby-batter around her lips to bring it into her mouth, where she swallowed the thick protein shake. Now, it was her loins burning as she imagined all the ways she could make use of such a powerful cum-pump.

Spike was brought out of his haze of exhaustion, shame, and yes, pleasure by a storm of light across his eyes. Dr. Adorable’s helmet danced images across his eyes a hundred per second, making it impossible for his conscious mind to recognize them. However, something about them was instantly hypnotizing; the young dragon’s jaw went slack and eyes, wide as he watched and soaked in the unintelligible montage. He didn’t instantly forget the rest of his situation, but everything except watching the show became much less important.

“A few hours inside,” Mane-Iac spoke, standing up. “Plus a little mutually enjoyable positive reinforcement that I think I’ve well prepared you for…”

The villainess unzipped her costume down to her panty-less, gushing crotch with one hand, and grasped Spike’s still gem-hard member with the other.

“And I’ll be your lover, mistress, and goddess.”

Flicking a second switch on the helmet, Mane-Iac dropped her hips, and Spike was crushed under a boulder of pleasure as her tight, strong, wet folds enveloped his bulging member. He let out a moan so sexual, it would get any comic that spelled it down in a speech bubble banned for life, but it was partially drowned out by the white noise the helmet’s speakers were pumping into his ears.

The villainess’s euphoria at not just the oversized cock tickling her womb, but at the feeling of having so completely dominated a Power Pony, was also beyond compare, and she let out her own whorish moan.

She wrapped her arms around her soon-to-be sidekick and boy-toy’s neck and smiled down at him. The image of him bound up, de-ponified by the helmet, and literally beneath her gave her such a rush that she actually waited another few seconds to savor the feeling before she began fucking him. And right before she did start gyrating her hips, milking and wrangling the young dragon’s cock, swimming across the carnal pleasure she drowned his world in, she leaned forwards to smoosh his helmeted face between her tits, just for good measure. Dr. Adorbable, in her genius, had ensured that the helmet had nostril holes for just such an occasion.

To say Spike couldn’t think would have been an understatement. Her soft flesh, her squeezing pussy, and her musk would already have kept any male his age totally helpless as his body responded to the one function it was built for above all others. In this case, though, Mane-Iac’s violation of him served to reinforce the work of the helmet. As the hundreds of images that flashed before him turned to thousands, and the thousands to tens of thousands, though; he began to pick up on patterns. Not consciously, of course. They flashed so fast he could only recognize thoughts of the subject, not what was actually going on.

Mane-Iac… Sex… Bondage… Submit… Mane-Iac…

And Mane-Iac riding him- giving him mind-melting pleasure while he barely (could) thrust a half-inch back up into her- ensured that he’d look upon these thoughts positively.

Outside the helmet in which the old Spike was melting away, Mane-Iac leaned back, the feeling of the hard metal scraping against her sticky cleavage becoming uncomfortable. It mattered little, though, because she could feel him thrusting back into her as far as her hair would allow him. She could feel her own orgasm building as she continued to spear her every nerve on his smooth, bulging cock. She was also more than experienced enough to know when even the most tightly-bound of partners was getting close.

She knew he wouldn’t be holding back, but they were both so horny that she didn’t have to restrain herself long, either. In a few short minutes, he shot his second deluge of cum up into her, and she let the blasts of sticky goo deep inside her push her over the edge. Her head hung back as she moaned, reminding herself that he was all hers, now. They’d both be messes by the time the helmet was done, but it didn’t matter. She could- she would do this with him for hours and hours, every day, not even counting all the games they’d play. Her tool to defeat the Power Ponies and rule Mare-tropolis was cumming inside her; they’d never get anything even resembling the chance to steal him back. She’d put them through the same ordeal, and give her sidekick some rewards.

Author's Note

I'm back! I've been working on a lot of other projects these past few years, but I've had more time, and there's some more fan-fic ideas I've had, so I figured I'd at least finish what I started here.
I already have ideas for the next few chapters, but less me know yours.