Be Anon on a leash. When you appeared in Bovinia, out were immediately overpowered by some Minotauresses with literally watermelon sized tits wearing overalls. They spoke in a thick Appalachian accent, and explained the realities of your situation. There was also a great deal of sitting on your face and making you eat them out while they spouted rural euphemisms. In your short time with your first owners, you learned a few things.
How to really work your tongue.
Minotauresses bodybuild obsessively in order to withstand the massive weight of their breasts.
You are what they call a "pinkmy" and thus sub-minotaur.
Apparently, some minos are born with almost no cow traits, and are generally weaker than their more bovine peers.
However, if 4chan taught you anything, it's the degeneration inside that counts. So you managed to flaunt yourself in front of wealthier, more deviant females, who promptly bought you from your previous owners. You continued in that way, eating your way to the top, changing hands until you ended up in a harem. The Bovinian ambassador to Equestria's harem, to be specific. As expected of an ambassador, Ironing Board had a wide selection of boytoys for her amusement. A diamond dog, an adolescent dragon, a griffon, even a cloud gremlin. They had one thing in common, though.
They were all whiny bitches.
So what if Ironing Board is flat chested?
So what if she never kisses them on the mouth?
You could never tell if they resented being her cuddle slaves, or if they wanted more of her favor and affection. You suspect some of the latter fed into their pecking order disputes. Thankfully, you kept your spot as number 2 without having to do any of the catty remarks and slapfights. Dragonboy had the rest of them under his claw, due to the fact that he was tough as shit, decently strong, and could breath fire.
He was also deathly afraid of you, recognizing you as a Human from the old legends. When he wasn't sulfuring his sheets about you, he was alright, so you just sort of lounged around as the other guys speculated at what magical powers you might have. The thumb trick really freaked them out. It was not to last, however.
One day, Ironing Board brought you with her to negotiations. You were a little curious about what passed for politics here, but it seemed that wasn't in the cards. Celestia looked you up and down, eyes glinting with that familiar hunger. Ironing Board slapped you on the ass, pushing you forward.
"He's still a virgin, you know. Shaman verified. So what do you say?"
Celestia nodded.
"I accept. Guards, fetch the prince."
You watch some prissy stallion mewl and plead as he is dragged by. Ironing Board gives your balls one last jostle, sighing fondly.
"Anon, you were among the best cuddle buddies I have ever had. You go and treat ol' Celly just as good, alight?"
You flick her gently on the nipple.
"Sure thing. Oh, and Homeward Bone is getting lonely, could you move him up in the schedule?"
Ironing Board winks at Celestia.
"See what I mean? Anon's a real treasure."
She kisses you on the cheek.
"I'll do that. Take care, you dirty pinkmy."
You swat her ass as she turns away.
"You too, you old cow."
She giggles, picking former prince Blueblood up by the scruff of his neck as she leaves. Celestia gives you a warm smile.
"Welcome to Equestria, Anonymous. Would you like to accompany me, or would you rather rest in your quarters?"
It's pretty early in the day, and you aren't that tired.
"I'd like to go with you. The quicker I find out about you, the better I can serve you."
She nods her head.
"An admirable notion. Come then, I have much to show you."
Celestia shows you around the palace, to the four separate kitchens, three of which are solely dedicated to cake production. Then there are the introductions to the various heads of staff, and so on. The entire time, you trailed a hand up and down her back, taking careful note of the spots when she tensed, shivered, and/or her wings stiffened. With increasing hesitancy, she leads you to her personal quarters.
"The only thing that you must do, is accompany me during negotiations with the Seething Empire. It is my hope that the presence of a human may help them see... reason. At the very least, that damn dragonette might stop hitting on the butlers."
"Sounds reasonable. I'll count on you if she starts breathing fire, though."
The princess nods absently, chewing on her lip. After a moment of silence, she speaks.
"I understand you were in Ironing Board's harem. Did you..."
Celestia averts her eyes.
"dislike the duties of the bedchamber?"
You cup her cheek, drawing her gaze.
"I have always liked making girls happy. Especially the cute noises you all make when I touch you just right."
Her cheek heats up suddenly, reddening. Her eyes search yours for any trace of falsehood, and for something else.
"Then, I will accept your service, though I fear I am far too old to truly be considered cute."
You cup her other cheek, and pull her in for a slow, but chaste kiss on the lips. Her eyes go wide, and her wings rise to half mast. You grin.
"Do not discount yourself so, Princess. I am going to find every little cute thing that you do and kiss you for it."
Celestia's mouth parts in surprise as she struggles for words. You cannot resist the sight, and eagerly seal her mouth with yours, your tongue probing the depths. She tastes sweet on your tongue, with a subtle hint of the rich creaminess of cheesecake. Celestia flaps her suddenly erect wings in alarm, inhaling deeply through her nose. She jerks back, only to slowly lean into the kiss, her tongue timidly meeting yours. You run a hand through her mane and she responds with a contented hum.
At last, you break the kiss. She looks blankly at you, panting and flustered.
"I think I can be persuaded with such a method."
You laugh and give her a peck on the nose.
__________________________________________________________________________
You get the sense that Celestia is rather like one of your old owners, a nice middle-aged silk-weaver. She had liked to dress you up in all sorts of clothes, or chat while she wove. Soft Touch always seemed slightly ashamed of her body, from her modest rack to a slight pudginess around the belly, to her relatively short height. She insisted on separate beds, even though there was little enough room in the loft above the working area. You got the sense that what she really wanted was a husband, but she lacked he confidence to court one herself. You spent a happy year with her, waking her up with kisses, working together to make the dyes and threads that made up her craft. At night you would do your best to make her forget her worries, her insecurities, and her loneliness. Sometimes, when you drove her to orgasm, as Soft Touch cried out in ecstasy, you would see tears fall from her eyes, even after the last spasms ceased. Those were the nights when you cradled her gently in your arms, and sang her to sleep. You remember the day she sold you, to one of her friends in court.
"I'm already going soft, dear Anonymous. Any more of you, and my teats would break my back entirely. I hope you find a better woman, you deserve it."
You hugged her tightly.
"You better find a great husband while I'm gone. You should try Long Haul, the widower. He asked me about you just the other day."
Soft Touch scoffed.
"Not you too! I'm sure he was just being friendly like he always is."
You tapped out of the embrace and set your hands on her shoulders.
"He asked about your bust size."
She blushed slightly.
"And?"
"He placed an order for a tuxedo."
"Oh. Oh my."
Her face reddened more, and she fixed you with a fond gaze.
"What will I do without my lucky charm, though?"
You waggled your eyebrows suggestively.
"I imagine you'll get lucky in some other way."
Soft Touch shakes her head, suppressed laughter jiggling her chest in amazing ways.
"Oh, you. Now get going, I have a widower to comfort."
You gave her a salute and strode off.
"Good Luck!"
You called over your shoulder. She waved with a grin.
"You too."
______________________________________________________________
After the first three months as Royal Attendant, you had more or less gotten the hang of things. The signs of cake withdrawal. Your place in the hierarchy of servantry (below the heads of staff, above the cleaning crew, and diagonal from the guards). When Celestia just wanted cuddles. When she wanted to play with the many toys she has accumulated over the centuries. How to reduce her to a shuddering mass of pleasure in ten minutes. How to keep her gasping and twitching for hours on end. Just how far Luna is allowed to go with you (groping free-for-all). Which cakes made Celestia's juices taste the best. The names of her favorite bedtime stories. And so on.
You're making progress, she accepts being called "cute" at face value three times out of five. She's also beginning to confide in you, talking about her worries as a ruler and as a mentor. Celestia actually asks for your advice on Minotaur matters, which is rather flattering. All throughout, though, there is a distance. She never initiates shows of affection. You had to coax her for an hour before she believed it was okay to suck your dick. Even then, she was very shy and hesitant, with curtains drawn and wards set up. It still felt amazing.
She has yet to try again, even though you were very vocal in your appreciation while it was happening. You like her a lot so far, but it's a little frustrating. There's something deeper as well.
Every time you were sold, it felt weird.
Aside from the whole being a slave thing, it always felt like you were being... used. Like a sextoy that they got bored with. While that was almost literally the case for about half of your owners, there were the others like Ironing Board or Soft Touch that made you feel a little like you belonged. Those partings always stung, some more than others. You sigh. Some of these nights get you like this.
"Anonymous? Are you alright?"
Celestia stands hesitant in the doorway, a stack of scrolls floating away to a nearby desktop. You straighten up, putting on a smile.
"Fine, just a little tired. I can only imagine how tired you must be."
She doesn't look reassured. She approaches slowly, her golden regalia cast off with the ease of long practice. Celestia gazes at you in concern, sitting before you.
"If you can't do this anymore, if you want to quit, you don't have t-"
Quit? And be alone again? Just when you were starting to feel at home?
"No!"
She reels back at the intensity of your outburst. Your hands clench at the sheets, tears gathering in your eyes.
"No. Don't throw me away. Don't leave me."
Celestia blinks.
"Oh."
She draws you into an embrace, her forelegs encircling you, her wings wrapping you in warmth and softness. She rocks you gently in her arms, her own tears falling upon your cheek and shoulder.
"I will never leave you, Anonymous. I will never throw you away. You are precious to me, far more precious than I could have imagined."
You weep, burying your face in her soft fur. You have never felt so safe, so secure. Softly, so softly that you almost cannot hear it, she whispers,
"You are mine. And I..."
You look up at her, gazing into those wise, luminous eyes.
"I am yours."
Your lean forward, lips meeting lips in a question. Celestia kisses you back, once upon the lips, then again and again as she kisses your tears away. Incandescent joy bubbles up in your chest. You stroke her long neck, a steady rhythm to which you match your increasingly passionate kissing. She presses forward, pushing you down onto the bed with her considerable strength. While your previous owners have done the same from time to time, this was different. Her weight upon you was not the weight of lust or pride, but the reassuring weight of safety, of comfort.
Your senses are filled, overfilled with this magnificent horse. Silky fur atop firm muscles and yielding flesh. Sensual humming reverberating in your ears. Her delectable mouth filling you with her taste, and a deep heat. You can feel your erection strain at your pants, a surging need begging for an outlet. You groan, working desperately to unfasten your pants, tugging them down the crucial span. Celestia gasps as she feels your feverishly hot length press against her belly. She looks down at you with wondering eyes.
"Anonymous, is this truly what you want?"
You lay panting beneath her, mind blazing with desire, with love, with compassion.
"This is where I belong. With you."
You free your manhood from under her, and guide it to the glistening slit of the god-princess you have come to love.
"Will you accept me?"
She pushes herself up, and for a moment, your heart sinks. Then Celestia impales herself upon you, letting out a long, low moan. You hiss, the flash of pleasure scrambling your ability to speak. The mare buckles, trembling as she lays back down on you. This time, the weight is different. She presses down, sharing her heat, melting the difference between the two of you. Her hips move with agonizing slowness, an insistent, glacial rhythm that leaves you gasping, toes curling, hands desperately clutching at anything they can grasp.
Celestia kisses and nips at your neck, almost babbling her praise. You shudder and writhe under her, whispering her name over and over and over. Your hand finds her horn and stroke it vigorously. She keens, pounding your dick into her at a feverish pace, all control lost. Your sweat soaks the sheets, the musky smell of sex ripe in the air. In your haste, the nail of your thumb catches on one of the ridges of her horn, then flicks free, the vibration simulating her sensitive nerves almost unbearably. Celestia spasms, groaning out your name, crushing your pelvis beneath hers, grinding and clenching around your manhood. You thrust into her, crying out in wordless ecstasy as you come again and again. Her walls milk you for what feels like an eternity of heaven, your member desperately pumping her full of seed.
The two of you simply lay there, content to be connected, basking in pleasure and each other's warmth. Another wonderful eternity slips by, and Celestia begins licking your cheek. The rhythm and the technique reminds out of nothing so much as a cat grooming itself. You patiently wait for an explanation but she just carries on.
"Why are you licking me? Not that I'm complaining."
Celestia stops and beams at you.
"You taste like salt. It's quite delicious."
You chuckle, and pat her neck tiredly.
"I guess I would at that. Just don't bite. Too much."
She giggles, and sets back to work.
_____________________________________________________________
The wedding came a handful of months later, as it was a state occasion and needed a great deal of preparation. There was the usual nobility, the elements of harmony, foreign dignitaries and so on, but you had you eye out for other guests. In the reception, you dragged your poor, socializing wife away from some bureaucrat or another, and lead her to a certain flat-chested 'tauress. Ironing Board grinned as Celestia and you approached.
"Finally decided to settle down, I can understand. But with a scrawny little pinkmy? You have strange tastes, Sunbum."
Celestia looks smug.
"There is nothing scrawny about him, I assure you. Besides, you're one to talk, Miss A-cup Angus Queef."
Ironing Board chuckles.
"Fair enough, fair enough. Anonymous, the boys miss you, how about we all go on a double date sometime?"
You smile fondly.
"It'd be nice to see them all again, but it will have to be later."
"Oh?"
You nudge Celestia with your elbow.
"Little Miss Princess cleared a full week out of her schedule, and I intend to use every minute of it."
Ironing Board claps the now blushing Celestia on the wither.
"You're a lucky mare. If only I had... well, I won't take any more of your time together. Farewell, and fuck well."
Celestia snorts.
"And good riddance to you."
Ironing Board just chuckles and pushes through the crowd. Your wife leads you to the Elements of Harmony, and you promptly slip into a daze as their small talk goes on and on. You do notice a certain couple waiting patiently a stone's throw away. You wait for the elements' conversation to hit a pause before you whisper in Celestia's ear,
"I have some old friends to see, want to come? They're a bit nicer than the other one."
She follows your gaze, but she isn't the only one. Rarity gasps.
"Is that Soft Touch, of Silk Standing?"
You raise your eyebrows. It seems Soft's letters rather understated her success.
"Would you like to be introduced?"
"Would I? I'd be delighted, darling!"
Soft Touch and Long Haul meet your group of three halfway, and pleasantries are exchanged.
"Soft, it sounds like you found a better good luck charm."
She smiles, and wraps an arm around Long Haul's waist.
"I have lived a rather charmed life, haven't I? Long has been a great and lovely support for me, and his caravan contacts are certainly a bonus."
Long Haul kisses her cheek.
"I'd say I'm the lucky one, to have found such a sensitive and kind tauress."
Celestia sighs happily, pulling you into a one wing hug. Meanwhile Rarity glances about, somewhat uncomfortable to be the odd one out. You take some pity on her.
"Soft, have you heard of Carousel Boutique?"
The tauress tilts her head.
"Of course, the maker of the Princess Cadance' wedding dress, as well as a member of the Elements of Harmony. Is the proprietor attending as well?"
Rarity clears her throat nervously.
"That would be, ah, me."
Soft Touch gazes in surprise.
"I had thought you were part of the court, wearing that finery. But no, this is an original, isn't it? I have always admired your sense of proportions, would you be interested in creating a minotaur line of clothing? I could offer a discount, and locations to..."
The party went on in the like manner for a while longer, during which the two of you quietly excused yourselves. Under the cool, starry sky, Celestia shines with an inner radiance that was not there when you met her so many months ago. She nuzzles your neck with a playful smile on her lips.
"What are you thinking about, Love?"
You lean against her, basking in her comforting heat.
"You just keep getting more beautiful every time I see you."
She hums happily, wrapping a wing around you.
"I guess I'll keep you then. I want to see what you see when we are both old."
You stroke her mane.
"Me too."
