Soarin was just about as happy as a stallion could be. He sat at the breakfast table, sipping some juice and eating a warm muffin as Spitfire and Windy walked in. He hadn't failed to notice Spitfire's handling of Windy in the past—as Spitfire had assumed—and had set their morning routine to help her explore something new. Now he had another new thing for her to experience. "Your food's in the bowls over there."

Tracing the angle of Soarin's wing, Spitfire saw the two bowls on the floor. In them was what looked like scrambled egg, some dog kibble, and a liquid drizzled over the top she knew all too well. She opened her mouth, about to berate Soarin for the demeaning breakfast, but was passed by Windy who stuck her snout in a bowl and started eating.

"Careful. If she's as hungry as I think she is, she'll eat all yours too." Soarin beamed at Spitfire's sour look. "Better eat it all up."

That was the nail in the coffin. Spitfire knew the rule Soarin had given, so his words were as good as an order. She huffed, mind racing to come up with a list of things to do to Soarin next time she got the chance. Sticking her snout down in the bowl, Spitfire was surprised. "It's just egg white?"

"One was egg white, one I made myself. Guess you got the lucky one?" Soaring nibbled on his muffin. "Seems Windy had her own preference."

Spitfire almost felt cheated. She'd been expecting humiliating and degrading, and got a lovely pair of cooked eggs instead. The flavor wasn't bad, and did a reasonable job of hiding the bland kibble underneath. Before she knew it, she was licking the bowl clean.

"I bet that kibble makes you a bit thirsty," Soarin said.

It did and Spitfire was. She turned her head to a water bowl and saw that this was most definitely filled with Soarin's semen. Part of her recoiled at the act of degradation, while the part of her that adored him taking control leaned over to the bowl and started lapping at it.

The smell was musky enough—with her nose right up near it—but the taste was something else. She'd tasted Soarin before, of course, but there was something different about the warm liquid in the bowl that caused Spitfire to feel almost twice as humble as she had when approaching it.

"Don't drink it all. I want some of that too." Windy licked at Spitfire's cheek when she saw a little mess there, getting a hint of the refreshing drink.

Soarin waited until Spitfire pulled her snout back, licked her lips, and let Windy start drinking before he swallowed the piece of muffin he was chewing on. "Bet you can't guess who's that is."

Spitfire froze in shock. She'd assumed it was Soarin's. She looked back at the bowl, at how enthusiastically Windy was slurping up semen, and took a guess. "Thunderlane?"

"Him? Not a chance." Soarin smirked. "Okay, a game. Whoever can guess right gets to set the pace in the chariot. A wrong guess gets you wearing something naughty.

A list of stallions ran through Spitfire's head. She tried to work out who it might be. "Bow?"

Windy pulled her muzzle back from the bowl a moment. "Not him. Tasty, though. Fire Streak?"

"Close. But not it. Oh, you both know him." Soarin sipped at his juice. "If neither of you can guess, I'll just bind you both up and leave you empty all day."

"Lightning Streak?" Spitfire was working through the Wonderbolts now. She'd certainly never serviced any of her fliers—not like she had Soarin—but she knew each of them was stud enough that a lot of mares in Cloudsdale would love to have a night with them.

"Two down for Spitfire. Windy, want to try again? I'll give you a hint, he's not a Wonderbolt." The last of the semen was being chased around the bowl by Windy's tongue, Soarin could see. "There's more in the fridge for later."

Windy turned around, tongue lashing at her lips, and though of what ponies it could be. "Oh! I know!" She walked up beside Spitfire and licked her cheek. "It explains the flavor, too."

"Who?" Spitfire asked.

"Spicy Hot," Windy Whistles said.

"Bingo! And if you must know, I had to promise to pose in some photos for him, so you'd better enjoy it." Soarin reached a wing out and petted Windy on the head.

"So that sweetness wasn't just—Bat pony cum is sweet?" Spitfire stared at Soarin, then turned to look at Windy. To her surprise, Windy kissed her on the nose.

"Maybe we should have a sampling night at Spicy's store?" Windy wagged her tail as her mind ran through the details as to how it would be planned out. She had visions of tubes and masks and tight rubber running through her head, and a line out of the door of bats and pegasi.

"By the way you're drooling, I should talk to him about this?" Soarin asked.

Windy Whistles eyes widened with surprise. It was fantasy, a daydream. She gulped and nodded very slowly. "I-I-I'd need to talk to Bow. But, if you were there, I'd feel safer."

Soarin reached out to rub an ear on each of his mares' heads, and smiled at each in turn. "Good thing I'm having lunch with Bow today, then. I'll ask him if his little pet can play. Maybe Spitfire would like to take charge, and we can compare notes on bat ponies together?"

The idea made Spitfire nuzzle and rub into Soarin's hoof a little more. Though she'd do it here, cum drinking wasn't something she was that into, though it did surprise her that Soarin might be. "You really want to try that?"

"I like to try new things. Besides, seeing Spicy's face when I ask this is going to be worth it," Soarin said.

Spitfire managed a snort at the idea too. "So what's next on the agenda?"

"We're going for a walk to see Bow, and then we're doing some chariot training. But there's one little important thing first." Soarin stood up and started walking for the door. "You are both going to heel—like a pet—as we walk there."

"Is this a contest?" Spitfire couldn't help herself, she needed a competitive edge even in this.

Soarin's eyes slid to Windy. "I wasn't planning on it, but I could say that the pet who doesn't prove herself to be subservient and keep pace for the whole trip is going to get a good fucking when we meet Bow."

Eyes widening, Windy Whistles' breathing sped up, and she blinked a few times in surprise. She wasn't sure if she wanted to lose, and have her husband screw her brains out, or win and watch him bang Spitfire more. She knew Bow had a thing for Spitfire—not that he'd ever really mentioned it to her—but he'd never done more than steal looks at her. Then something occurred to her. "Wh-Who will be doing the f-fucking?"

"Me of course. You're my pets at the moment. Come on." Soarin walked to the door and stepped outside. He was delighted when a mare rushed to each side of him. "You both know how this works? I move, you keep your eyes level with my shoulder."

Spitfire nodded.

Windy nodded.

"Good girls. Come on, then." Taking the first step, Soarin was happy to see both of them walking at his sides. "It's a lovely day out today, I—Hi Spicy!"

Spicy Hot had been taking the walk of shame—not that he ever felt any, it was just the name for it. Part of him hoped neither of the Wonderbolt officers realized he was on his way from the Wonderbolt's showers. "Well, if it isn't my three favoritest ponies! How is the fun going with those special items?"

Spotting something the bat pony had obviously forgotten—a leg cuff—Soarin chose to ignore it and reply without questions as to why Spicy was walking away from Wonderbolt HQ. "Fit like a sock, and have been wonderful. I might have a proposition for you later."

"A—A proposition? For moi?" Spicy lifted one wing to his brow. "I've always waited for this day. Mother said I'd never find the perfect guy to walk me down the aisle. Soarin! I will marry you!" He leaned in, fluttering his eyes closed, and pursed his lips.

When Soarin tapped her shoulder, Spitfire perked up and let him guide her forward with his touch. She realized a moment later what he intended. This was her turn to be the submissive, and what Soarin wished was law. Stepping forward, Spitfire pressed her lips to Spicy's and thrust forward with her tongue.

Reaching out to pull his "love" into an embrace, Spicy Hot opened his eyes to see it was Spitfire and not Soarin. He tried to pull back, but Spitfire advanced as he did so and spread a wing around his neck. If there was one thing Spicy could always go weak-kneed at, it was a dominant.

Breaking the kiss to nuzzle Spicy's cheek, Spitfire worked her muzzle up to his ear and whispered, "My stallion wants to suck your cock."

Soarin watched as Spitfire let go of Spicy, and the bat fell through the clouds. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing important. Should one of us save him?"

Peering at the hole, Windy was trying not to giggle at Spicy—who was flying slow spirals below the cloud-bank of Cloudsdale. "I think he's okay. Guess he has to focus to keep from falling through."

Pushing the clouds back together so there was no longer a hole, Spitfire shrugged and stepped back to Soarin's side. "I'm sure he'll be okay for your talk later."

Trying to regain control of the situation, Soarin cleared his throat. "Right. Come on, back on the clock, girls." He began walking again.

Spitfire scrambled, along with Windy, to regain her position at Soarin's side. She reached it just a moment after Windy—who got to his nearer side quicker. The form of submissive play she was in was both more exciting and different from her normal taste. Spitfire was used to bondage, and letting her stallion have his way with her, but this was more of a game than their normal play was.

A feeling of power bubbled away in Soarin's barrel. Two pretty mares and they'd do whatever he wanted, so long as he didn't push too far, of course. Still, he wondered about telling them to fly up to a high cloud and then spending the day screwing each until he was a worn-out mess. He would have, too, but he'd built up the day, and he wouldn't break a promise.

Windy kept having to adjust her stride thanks to Soarin turning here and there, or slowing and speeding up. He was only a little larger than her, but the longer legs meant she was working harder than she normally would to match her pace to his gait. So focused was she, that she didn't notice her own house until they'd walked right up to the front step.

As he stopped, Soarin looked to each side to make sure both his pets stopped with him. A rumble of appreciation filled his throat as he almost growled in happiness. He lifted his hoof and knocked.

Bow took a moment to reach the door. A day without his love was always rough, but he knew she was having the time of her life, and soon he would be too. "Coming!" He walked across the living room and opened the front door—then he froze.

"Hey, Bow. Mind if I bring my girls in for a bit? They're off the hook once inside." Soarin waited for Bow to nod before he walked into the house.

With what Soarin said, the moment Windy stepped inside her house she breathed a sigh and stepped closer to her shell-shocked husband. "Sorry, dear, we have a little game on and I had to do whatever Soarin said outside." She kissed him, just a little peck on the cheek.

"So, uh…" Bow had perked up a little at the attention from his wife, but he was too aware that there were games afoot, and he wasn't comfortable participating in them. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm going to be honest, I guess I didn't think this bit through. I'd made a big show of telling them whichever didn't heel well enough on the walk over was going to get screwed silly, but now it's just kinda awkward." Soarin rubbed his mane back a little with a hoof.

Spitfire bopped Soarin on the shoulder with her hoof. "You ninny." Then she broke into a laugh.

"It's not that bad an idea, though." Windy Whistles looked up at Bow's face and smiled at him. "It'll just be like a nooner, snookums."

Bow froze for a moment, but when Windy nuzzled around his neck, all the tension leaked out of him. He returned the attention with interest, and even nibbled on her ear—he felt like it was their first make-out all over again. "Mmm. Alright, sugar-butt."

Completely forgetting about Soarin and Spitfire, Windy was completely focused on her husband. "This kind of thing is how we had Rainbow." Her nuzzling grew with her sexual arousal.

"Does my sexy little thing want another foal in her belly? You know that'd mean you need to remove that spell, right?" Unlike his wife, Bow was aware of Soarin and Spitfire, but his wife's attention made him just not care.

"But then I couldn't swing," Windy said, unsure if Bow was merely playing a game with her.

"Well, if you kept it to Soarin and Spitfire, at least I know our foal would be mine or of excellent stock." The truth was that Bow was confused as to why he wasn't put off about it—he actually found himself getting excited at the idea.

Windy Whistles blinked in surprise at her husband, but his nuzzles quickly broke her of her shock. "We'll talk about that later, hot-stuff." She led the way to the bedroom, tail swishing behind her.

"That was unexpected." Spitfire turned her attention from the closing bedroom door to Soarin. "Uh, so they're busy…"

"I'm not going to fuck you in Rainbow Dash's old bedroom," Soarin said, and booped Spitfire.

"What? I wasn't planning to just screw in her bedroom. On her bed would be the right place." Being commander of the Wonderbolts was more than just a job to Spitfire, it was her life, but when she was alone with Soarin she felt she could let a bit of the wild mare free. "We could try to track down that bat and talk about what you want out of him?"

Soarin could only blush. What he wanted was to be tied up and used, but he was also trying to be dominant today. "I'll tell you what I want, when I want it, and you'll give it to me." As he spoke, he watched Spitfire's eyes widen and her pose shift slightly. Her wings drooped just a little, and she bowed her snout down ever so slightly before him.

"I'll write Windy a note." Soarin searched around for paper and writing implements, scrawled a quick note, and left it on the coffee table in the living room. Just as he was ushering a subdued Spitfire out the door, he heard a loud squeal come from Windy.

Once outside, Spitfire fell in at Soarin's side. She'd been quite mostly because she hadn't realized how quickly Soarin's reprimand would shove her back into her submissive place. Her body tingled all over to be touched by him—to be controlled by him. While trotting at his side, Spitfire nuzzled Soarin's shoulder.

"So what do you think? If Windy doesn't want to do it, should we both volunteer?" Soarin asked, leading the way toward what he hoped would be an open Cloudsdale Cloppers.

"Both of us? Who would be—" Spitfire realized she was talking about very private things in public, but then realized nopony would understand either way. "Who would be on top?"

"No one, I guess. We let Spicy know a signal for 'stop the ride and let us off', and go from there I think." Riding a razor's edge between feeling dominant and submissive, Soarin turned his head to the side and watched Spitfire halt when he did. "I'm struggling to keep in this role while talking about this."

"I can't blame you. Wanna relax a bit until we catch up with Windy again?" Spitfire asked, and when Soarin nodded, she stepped out of heel and stretched her wings. "Not that I don't love doing this, but if you aren't in the right mood, it's not fun for both of us. Right?"

"Have I told you how much I love you today?" Soarin asked.

"Who cares. I want to hear it again." Spitfire walked along, both of them sharing the simple platitudes of ponies in love until they found Spicy's shop.

But the door—when tested—was not just closed, it was locked too.

"Hold on, sweeties. Your most humble servant and purveyor of perilously private poking-toys is present!" Spicy rushed up to the door and pushed his key into the lock. "You might as well come in with me—said the spider pony to his prey."

Spitfire stepped forward and past Spicy, leaned in to his ear and whispered, "More true than you might realize." She sauntered the rest of the way into the shop. She was no longer cowed or embarrassed about standing midst so many sex toys. The contents of the walls of Spicy's shop almost seemed like armor against the social norms, protecting the ponies within.

"What can I do for the second and third sexiest ponies with wings?" Spicy Hot asked once he had the lights turned on and slipped behind the front counter.

Now or never, Soarin thought. "Spicy, you have… parties?"

Spitfire watched the two stallions attempt a deadpan-off. Neither seemed to be giving ground. "You're both terrible at this! We'd like to know if you'd be okay if we, well, came to a party, or even had something in here. Suit us up and lock us up with our mouths open."

Spicy spent a moment longer looking at Soarin before he jerked a wing-claw toward Spitfire. "I like her directness more, but only because of the subject matter. I could stare into your beautiful eyes all day long, Mr. Wonderbolt." He fluttered his lashes to enhance the effect of his statement.

Feeling trepidation, Soarin took a deep breath. "We need to know we can trust you, Spicy. You've been a huge help to us—in more ways than you can probably imagine—but this is another step."

"I can imagine a lot of ways." Spicy stepped out from behind his counter and practically pranced over to the collar selection. "And I understand what you're saying. I'd be in control—that is—neither of you would be."

"Y-Yeah." Soarin turned his head to look at Spitfire, but his lover was unreadable. "I trust you, I really do, but I don't know if I can trust you with a safe word."

Selecting a slim pink collar, Spicy slipped it around his own throat but didn't fasten it. "Then as one switch to another, Soarin, buckle this up."

Author's Note

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