Learning to Play Her Instrument

Canterlot University was huge – massive, in fact. Its high, brick-faced buildings and towering columns coated in ivy gave it an aura of splendor and majesty, to say nothing of its standing as the premier school of the Equestrian State. And while the University was regal in appearance, Octavia didn’t find it the least intimidating. There was something about it that gave her an almost inviting sense of home-like familiarity; as if she belonged there.

Walking down the central promenade, Octavia felt engulfed in the sea of ponies passing all around her. She had never had a love for crowds, but for some reasons, it was strangely relieving to be able to blend in with the masses.

I’m just like any pony else.

Her mother’s words still rang in her ears and a pain welled in her heart. No, she wasn’t like any pony else and she felt it acutely.

Octavia cursed herself for not investing in fall skirts, though it hardly mattered. It was freezing out and between the cold weather and the incessant chafe of her pants seam against her bulge, which she had hid the best she could be aligning it with her leg, she could hardly think of much else. However, to be safe, she decided to wear an extra loose t-shirt – one that extended all the way to her knees – just in case.

Yet, for all that, Octavia felt confident. Sure, Vinyl was probably still unconscious and the bathroom would have to be sanitized and the clocks would need to be wound back, but besides all that, things were going well! The sun was out, the day was warming, and the crisp smell of autumn wafted on the air.

But she was still horny.

Octavia groaned inwardly, feeling the monstrosity’s will to be free as she passed by throngs of mares in high-cut tops and short shorts.

Bucking sluts.

The cellist mentally kicked herself. Where did that come from? She had never used to think such obscene thoughts before, let alone indulge them. What was happening to her? It was as if this Octavia was becoming more forward – aggressive even. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like her.

Maybe I’m going insane.

But if she was going insane, it was the most pleasurable sort. All she wanted was to rut – to sate that primal longing deep in her loins. She had been a lonely wanderer in a proverbial desert of celibacy, but once she had wetted her lips from the well of carnal desires, she wanted to drink the well dry; to dive deep into the depths of degradation until she drowned in a deluge of pussy.

Octavia felt her shoulders tense and her body shudder as a pair of midriff bare joggers passed her by, her cock straining in her pants.

The cellist sighed, shaking her head before walking down the leaf-strewn path to the other side of the campus.

~

Dr. Honeyfeather’s class was located in room 11 B on the second story of Harmony Hall. It was an old building, with tall rooms and large windows to control the heat in an age before air conditioning. This had the effect of making it pleasant in the hottest days of fall and insufferably cold in winter.

Octavia shivered as she sat in her seat – third from the back on the right second aisle. The rest of the class had already arrived and yet their teacher was strangely absent.

She’s not usually known for being tardy.

Several moments passed and the idea of leaving was floated around in hushed murmurs until the class door violently flew open and the class stood to attention.

“Sit down!”

The class didn’t hesitate to obey as a giant, hulking mass of sinew and muscles straining under a button down shirt bounded into the room, slamming its briefcase on the podium.

“Iron Will is the name, substituting is my game! Your professor is out on a leave of absence of ‘find herself’, so Iron Will has been asked to come and TEACH YOU A LESSON!...in English.”

Octavia blinked in bewilderment at the unusual figure standing before the class. He was a beast – unnaturally tall and well-built, with shoulders that were broad and strong and a voice that was something akin to thunder; violently shaking the timbers of the floor whenever he spoke.

“But before we begin, let Iron Will lay out some rules for you. Iron will has many but his most important rule is this: if you do not know your grammar, you get the hammer! I will not tolerate, I repeat, will not tolerate slang, colloquial sayings, wrong syntax, or contractions. THAT IS NOT PROPER ENGLISH! Besides that, I want you to remember: it is about having fun! Shakespeare should shake you! Wilde should make you go wild! And Balzac should…well, that’s not important, what is important is this: follow my instruction and I promise you, English is going to KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF!”

A hand raised itself from the crowd.

“YES!”

“Sir, isn’t ‘knock your socks off’ a colloquial saying?”

The teacher’s eyes turned dark red and a deathly hush settled over the class.

“Could you please repeat that for me?”

“I, uh…well…”

“Could you please repeat that!?”

The stallion’s voice was just a whisper now.

“Isn’t...‘knock your socks off’…a colloquial…saying?”

The professor closed his eyes, straightening his tie as he took a deep breath.

“Yes, you are correct,” he replied coolly. “That was my mistake. And kudos to you! Never be afraid to stand up and say something, especially when you know you’re right!”

“You used a contraction…”

Without hesitation, the professor pulled his desk up by the screws that bolted it to the floor and threw it out the window.

“DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DOOOOO! Now open your text books to page 45!”

The entire classroom silently obeyed. Octavia felt her hand trembling as she turned the pages in her book.

Please, by harmony, don’t let this be for the rest of the semester.

Octavia listened in a state of anxiety as the lecture began which gradually faded over time. Besides their professsor’s violent outburst and grating voice, he was a rather boring educator on the whole.

The cellist tried in earnest to concentrate, but it didn’t do any good. She wasn’t there at all. Between writhing in her chair and scratching her pencil back and forth on her notebook trying to distract herself, she found there was no solace in her unhappy state.

Worse still, it was coming back – the fire.

The sweat began to gather on her palms; she could hear her heart beating in her ears. For a moment, Octavia considered retreating to the bathroom to relieve herself so she could make it through the class, but remembered how she had left her own bathroom not an hour earlier and thought such a move unwise.

So the minutes ticked by painfully, insufferably, unbearably slow. Octavia felt her mind drifting. She imagined what Vinyl must be doing – whether she was still laying there or not – and felt a pang of guilt, having left her there. She would have to make that up to her later.

Then she remembered the sensation of Vinyl’s tongue on her shaft.

Buck that felt good.

Octavia traced her hand down her stomach and was about to run her hand down the length of her pants before she felt a nudge. She opened her eyes and realized the everyone’s eyes were trained on her.

The cellist searched the room in nervous confusion trying to understand what was happening before a single voice rang out:

“That mare has a cock!”

A chorus of laughter followed.

Octavia looked down and found to her horror that her member was standing fully erect – plain and open for all to see.

The professor turned and looked in her direction, though his face expressed more a feeling of annoyance than of shock or disdain.

“Miss…”

He glanced down at a seating chart.

“…Melody. Iron Will is going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Mr. Will, please I can explain!”

“There is nothing to explain! You are a distraction to the rest of the class. Leave!”

Octavia felt the darkness all around her. She was sinking. There was nothing but a black pit and the light of her former enthusiasm seemed to be fading away into the depths of her despair. Walking up to the front of the class, she suddenly recalled that memory of the locker room all those many years ago. It was all the same. Same circumstances. Same laughter. Same embarrassment.

It was all the same.

That was when Octavia felt something inside her – a rage building, like something she had never felt before. Uncontrollable, uncontainable unimaginable indignation.

Octavia slammed her learning materials on the floor.

“No! I will not leave!”

“You are way out of line!”

“I’m not finished! All my life I’ve been bullied and pushed around by creatures like you! Made to feel like I am the problem! That I am the one who needs to change! Well let me tell you something, I’m not going to take it from you or anypony else for that matter! I am Octavia Philharmonica Melody! And I am perfect just the way I am! Cock and all!”

That was when Octavia felt herself being lead to the door – a firm hand around hers shoulder.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Octavia, with a power she never knew she possessed, counter-gripped the professor, slamming him into the board. She twisted his arm, which met with a resounding cry of pain.

Flushed with a sense of dominance, Octavia took her hand and landed several blows upon his rear.

“You don’t…treat…ponies…this way!”

Her hand cracked against his hind, a pathetic yelp accompanying every strike.

“A little discipline never hurt anypony! How do you like it!?”

“I-I love it.”

Octavia felt a lightning bolt of horror race down her spine as she realized what had happened. She looked down at the once indomitable figure of her substitute professor only to see a simpering, subdued mess beneath her grip – eyes glazed over and lower lip trembling.

Sweet Pony Jesus, he’s…he’s enjoying it!

The cellist thought at once to stop – to let him go – but she wouldn’t. How could she? It was too good of an opportunity to ever let go. For once in her life to be in complete control – to have total dominance.

Octavia felt her cock twinge, a sick delight creeping over her as her lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Yeah…yeah! You love mare cock don’t you?”

She twisted his arm harder.

“Don’t you!?”

“Y-yes.”

Octavia felt her entire body shake, an impish impulse seizing her implicitly.

“Beg for it!”

“P-please can I…”

“I can’t hear you! Say it loud enough for the whole class to hear!”

“Please can I have-”

“Have what!?”

“Please can I have your mare cock!?”

Octavia pushed her sub professor into the wall, tracing her hand down his muscled chest, and leaning close to his ear.

“Yes, yes you may.”

She purred as she reach around and unfastened his belt and buttons, running her free hand over his perfectly sculpted abs.

Damn, he is ripped!

It amused Octavia to think that such a powerfully built individual would so willingly submit and enjoy it too!

The cellist let his pants fall to the floor, totally oblivious to the myriad of phones capturing every moment of their lewd liaison. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Octavia wasn’t there anymore. It was just desire. Pure desire.

He had such a perfectly rounded ass – sculpted like that of Adonis himself. Octavia couldn’t help but admire its smooth curvature, its exquisite perfection.

She landed one firm strike on it, making the professor howl with pain, a red mark soon following.

Nothing in life has any right being perfect.

Octavia reveled in the sinful Schadenfreude of her own sexual sadism, rubbing her firm phallus against his formidable figure.

So this is what it feels like.

She began prodding at his entrance – that well-crafted piece of tautness, a pathetic whimper ushering from the professor’s quivering lips:

“Please, there’s some…”

“Louder!”

Another blow, followed by a pained cry.

“There’s lube in my bag!”

Octavia smiled as she retrieved it from the counter and opened it up to find a bottle of coconut scented male lubricant next to a pornographic magazine with gay colts on the cover.

The cellist rolled her eyes.

Why am I not surprised?

She uncapped the lube and poured it generously inside of him and on her cock, working it in as she fingered him. The bullish brute brayed, his well-proportioned manhood twitching with each prod.

“Say my name.”

“Octavia…”

Slap!

“What!?”

“Octavia!”

Slap!

“What!?”

“Octavia Melody!”

“Good boy…”

Octavia couldn’t resist any longer. She wanted it and she would have it.

The cellist pressed her cock inside the narrow confines of the sub’s pert entrance, stretching it as he grunted with pleasure.

So bucking tight!

Octavia struggled, having to almost fight until she had finally driven the entire length of her massive marehood inside him.

She marveled at the sensation as his muscles tightened around her, coaxing her member. He worked his ass like a hand, with almost athletic precision, clenching her sheath and riding her hard, throwing himself back to meet her with every thrust.

It was like nothing Octavia had ever experienced. She felt her entire body shaking – involuntary convulsions as she threw herself mercilessly, relentlessly into him, unable and unwilling to stop.

“Yeah, you like getting ravaged by mare cock, don’t you?”

The professor grunted his approval, heavy beads of sweat racing down his muscled body.

Octavia soon became lost in her drunken debauch of debased depravity, shouting a spate of shameful slanders and scorn on her sub; each insult intensifying her innate infatuation, until she could longer bear the bestial burden of her own bare body.

The feeling was agonizing, yet relieving at the same time. Octavia felt the warm sensation as her cock twitched – the pure bliss as she relieved her load in her professor, panting in palliative pleasure.

That was when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a chill run down her spine as words too stern for a student filled her ears:

“I need to see you in my office.”

~

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The tick of the wall clock was incessant. It seemed to hammer out the seconds like small eternities, accenting each maddening moment of waiting.

This is what it must be like before one faces a firing squad.

She looked up at the clock to see it was indeed the right time – to the second.

At least they remembered to turn the clock back.

Octavia clenched her moist palms in excruciating silence, glancing over the spacious and modern office in which she sat, noting the strange absence of anything of a personal or sentimental nature. Just a bookshelf, a desk, and some abstract modern art on the walls.

It reminded Octavia of a doctor’s office – sterile and cold – with just enough to give it the vaguest sense of familiarity, but not enough to actually make it feel inviting.

Besides its spartan interior, there was one other notable feature – a giant window that spanned the length of the room where a wall should have been. From its position atop the Administrative Building, it gave the office a dominating view of the entire campus.

The wait seemed to drag on for what seemed like hours before the door finally opened behind her.

“Octavia Melody?”

The cellist immediately stood to her feet as a tall mare with brilliant, almost translucent hair, entered the room.

“That’s quite alright, no need to get up on my behalf,” she said, her voice relaxed and oddly calm. “Care for a doughnut? I just picked some up on the way. I know it’s cheating on my diet, but…I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

She gave Octavia a wink and offered her the box filled with a dozen or so pastries. The cellist reluctantly took one – a keen ache on her sweet-tooth – as the seemingly ethereal figure sat at the desk in front of her.

“So introductions first! I am Dean Celestia, if you didn’t already know. I wanted to have a chat with you Ms. Melody to see if we couldn’t clear up a few things. But before we get started with all that, how have you been finding your time at Canterlot University? Well, I hope.”

Octavia nodded, gripping her chair, not expecting such pleasantries.

“Yes, so far.”

“And your grades?”

“Well I think.”

“I was looking over your record,” she said, glancing at a folder on her desk. “Dean’s List – twice now. That’s quite impressive! You should feel proud of yourself.”

“Well, it’s nothing, really.”

“It takes a lot of dedication and effort. You’ve proven to be quite studious. Full-time classes and extracurriculars. How do you ever find the time for any fun?”

“I-I guess I manage when I can.”

The mare chuckled.

“I can see that. Business and pleasure are great together, though in my experience, I find it easier in the long run to keep the two separate. What do you want to do once you graduate?”

“Well…I had hoped that I might pursue first-chair cello at the Royal Equestrian Orchestra.”

“The Royal Orchestra – that’s quite ambitious! I’m sure you have enough dedication and skill to reach it. I believe in you.”

Octavia nodded, feeling more relaxed now with the mare’s out-going and convivial nature.

“It’s always been my dream.”

“And an admirable dream it is too. Always try to shoot for the stars – that’s what my mother told me. Worst you could do is hit the moon. But before we go any further, I’m really interested to know what happened in there. It seems I walked in right at the climax of all that excitement.”

Octavia stretched her collar.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Care to explain the situation? How did you end up that way?”

“Well, it didn’t start like that, I swear! I was…I was daydreaming.”

“Daydreaming?”

“Yes, I got to thinking about things, and well, I got a bit…turned on.”

“I see.”

“Well, I didn’t realize what had happened until it was too late and then I…well, the entire class saw me.”

“What happened then?”

“I was asked to leave. The professor said I was being a distraction. I was just about to go, but then I got upset. I just lost control and…oh please, Dean Celestia, you have to believe me, I didn’t mean to do any of that. Something has been so completely wrong today! I woke up this morning and took my meds like I usually do and…it’s just been a mess!”

“Of course, I believe you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Sure I do. A straight A-student like you wouldn’t do something like that. There must be obviously something wrong. No prior offenses, no misdemeanors, or even a mark for tardiness! Seems like something strange. No doubt about it.”

Octavia felt a great weight fall from her chest.

“Oh thank you! Thank you! I was afraid nopony would believe me.”

“You’re in a bad situation, Ms. Melody, I’m not going to lie to you. But I’m going to try my best to help you and hopefully make sure you reach that dream of yours, but first I have to ask you, do you trust me?”

Octavia hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you trust me to help you get out of this?”

Her voice was reassuring – matronly, even.

“Y-yes. I trust you.”

“Good.”

The Dean buzzed the intercom on her desk.

“Secretary Luna, could you strike all my appointments for the next hour. I’ll be indisposed.”

“Very good, ma’am,” came the staticky reply.

The Dean casted her gaze upon her, a smirk sneaking over her lips.

“Show me it.”

Octavia tensed, a hollow feeling gnawing at her insides.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Show me it.”

“I’m not really sure what you-”

“Show me it.”

There was an ire in her voice now – one stern as iron. There was no mistaking what she meant. Octavia felt a cold sweat building on her brow, a terror filling her heart.

“Dean Celestia, this…this is illegal!”

“Oh? Is it? So we’re going by the letter of the law. I can play that game too. You know what else is illegal? Public indecency on an institute of higher education – not to mention sodomizing a professor. Shall I go further?”

The façade had fallen; the gentle demeanor had been replaced with a hard, maligned malice.

It was then the gravity of the situation hit the young cellist, and how utterly trapped she was– powerless – like a fly caught in a web.

“No, please, I…”

“Show me it.”

The voice was quiet now – it wouldn’t ask again.

Octavia silently acquiesced and hesitantly pulled down her pants, drawing her panties down as she did so, shuffling them off until she was naked from the waist down.

“My, my, what an impressive specimen.”

The cellist felt her cheeks redden.

“Shame is a luxury you can ill-afford my dear,” she said, tracing her soft hand on her cheek. “You certainly didn’t have any shame when you ravaged your sub in front of your class. Quite impressive, all in all. The doctors don’t think he’ll ever be able to walk straight again.”

It was like every social anxiety nightmare Octavia had ever imagined and then some. She was well beyond the point of embarrassment. She was absolutely mortified.

The Dean sat on her desk – her blousy skirt exposing her strong, slender legs – and motioned for Octavia to approach.

She did so. She didn’t have a choice. Whatever it was she wanted, the cellist prayed, she would get it over with quickly.

“Give me your hand.”

The cellist hesitated.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite…much.”

There was something perverse satisfaction in the way she toyed with her, making her obey her commands unquestioningly.

Octavia gave her hand only to feel it guided and then laid against the exposed part of the Dean’s breasts.

“Mmm, not what you were expecting was it? Go on, feel them.”

Octavia gently groped her soft tits, their forms oddly firm to her grasp. The Dean sighed, a gentle moan escaping her lips, as she traced her hand along Octavia’s stiffening cock.

“My, my already hard again! If you weren’t a mare I’d mistake you for quite the stud. You’re already wanting to go at it again, aren’t you?”

Octavia blanched. She felt like an insect under the magnifying glass – unable to do anything but writhe and squirm.

But how she enjoyed it.

Every sultry word, every terse command, every gesture of dominance – it turned her on in ways she never thought possible.

Octavia began instinctively to pump her hips, the Dean obliging her, stroking her shaft.

“Please…don’t stop,” the cellist huffed, precum already leaking from her tip.

“Why would I do that when you seem like you enjoy it so much?”

Octavia shuddered, her nipples aching. She could feel another climax approaching before the Dean abruptly let go of her cock and sat on the desk.

“You have a way to save yourself, Ms. Melody. Aren’t you going to ask how?”

Octavia could barely think straight as she ambled through the fog of her denied release.

“How ma’am?”

“Do you know what it takes to run an institution as old and prestigious as Canterlot University?”

“I wouldn’t have the slightest.”

The Dean slammed her hand down on the desk, causing Octavia to start.

“Discipline and Obedience!”

The power in her voice was something truly to behold; as terrifying as it was refined. The Dean took a deep breath to gather herself, her sudden distemper subsiding into a controlled composure.

“I would have thought,” she continued, her voice now calmly cadenced. “That someone from a family as prestigious as yours would understand that.”

“I don’t follow.”

“A sorority on campus. They are proving to be a nuisance. It’s not good for the University’s image. I need to bring them in line and I want you to help me do it.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes.

“I’m sorry, is this some sort of joke? I’m afraid I find this too silly. Are you seriously blackmailing me to take down a campus sorority?”

“…in so many words.”

“And if I refuse?”

She laughed.

“Then I will have to launch a formal inquiry into the classroom affair and turn the matter over to the police.”

The Dean threw her a knowing smile.

“But I know it won’t have to come to that, will it?”

“So what, you want me to vandalize the property?”

The Dean shook her head.

“No, nothing like that. A sorority is not just the house or its charter – it’s the members. And these members are particularly troublesome. They’ve rallied around the sorority leader, who is proving to be a pain in my flank. She’s been pushing ideas and causing noise and I simply can’t allow her to undermine the integrity of this administration by bringing the scourge of social upheaval on my campus.”

“What are you proposing then?”

“A scandal. Something so sordid and seedy it will bring down the whole sorority. That’s where you come in. Use your imagination Octavia, sow as much confusion as you can using that instrument of yours, and I don't mean your cello. How you do it I leave up to you, but once you have infiltrated the sorority, it is imperative that you are caught in a liaison with the leader. Once we have evidence of these exploits, the University will handle it from there.”

“Failure is not an option, I’m guessing.”

“Failure will mean a formal inquiry and a contacting of your parents, but if you play along and give me good results, I think I can make it worth your while.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow, not sure anymore what to expect.

“Go on…”

“Well, I think I might be able to have a word with the head of Royal Orchestra to see if a first chair cello position couldn’t become available in the near future.”

The cellist was stunned.

“I-I don’t believe you.”

“Octavia, darling, when you are the head of a University like this, you’d be amazed at the strings that you can pull to get things done.”

Octavia could feel her head spinning.

“I’m sorry…this is all too much. You’ll forgive me if I find all of this far-fetched.”

“Not far-fetched at all. As I said, a position like this has its perks.”

Octavia blinked.

“So what guarantee do I have you will uphold the bargain when all of this is done?”

“Why Octavia, you have the best assurance in the world – my word of honor.”

“That was what I was afraid of.”

“I’ll do you one better. If you agree to help me, I’ll make all knowledge of today’s incident disappear.”

Octavia looked at her incredulously.

“How?”

“I’ll have a word with the head of the Equestrian Intelligence Service. I think a good memory expunging might be in order.”

“And your proof?”

“Oh don’t you worry, I always keep a copy for myself.”

Octavia sighed.

“Alright then, so what about this sorority? Can you tell me anything about them?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions! Luckily for you, I’ve compiled a dossier, so you won’t have to scout out the members yourself. Here are their profiles.”

The Dean opened a door in her desk and retrieved a manila folder and handed it to her.

“You’ll find all you need in there.”

Octavia opened the folder marked ‘Omega Chi Iota’ and felt a sudden faintness before the folder fell from her fingers.

The Dean frowned.

“Octavia? What’s the matter? Are you alright?”

“I will do it.”

The Dean raised an eyebrow.

“What has brought on this sudden eagerness?”

Octavia turned to her and looked her dead in the eyes.

“I said: ‘I will do it’.”

The Dean’s serenity never faltered, though Octavia could sense just the slightest hint of surprise glistening in those devious eyes of hers.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said at last. “You will find I am a knowledgeable confidant, Octavia, despite all things. If you ever need any help, I’m more than willing to offer you advice, though a word of warning: if I find out you’ve spoken to anypony about this – and I will find out – you can rest assured, it won’t end well for you. Am I clear?”

Octavia nodded.

“Transparently.”

“Good! Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, would you care to join me for a cup of tea? I have a wonderful new herbal blend I’ve been wanting to try.”

“No thank you,” Octavia said, pulling up her pants. “I think I will be going. I have a lot of work ahead of me.”

“Nose to the grindstone – I know why you are a straight A student now. Very well. But remember Octavia: I expect results soon.”

The door was buzzed open for her and Octavia departed from the Dean’s office, wondering if any of what had just happened was real or the product of a stress induced nightmare.

It was a nightmare, but one she couldn’t wake up from. She had been caught up in this surreal scheme of intrigue and infiltration. Worse still, she would have to play her part, or face the terrible consequences.

But walking out of the Admin Building into the mid-morning light, she felt a new purpose – a new drive. She had often guessed at such abstractions before, but here it lay before it, as clear as the sun upon above her.

She would do as she was told. She would earn their trust. And she would have her way with the sorority head.

Octavia reveled in the feeling. The pure excitement pushing through her veins. A golden chance had been put before her. One that would give her what she most desired. It was more than freedom or musical chairs which she hoped to obtain – it was revenge.

For it was not just anypony who was head of the sorority. And as Octavia trekked on the path back to her apartment, it was the only thing she could think of:

Sunset bucking Shimmer!