Author's Note

The clop starts here, albeit not yet with Celestia.

A Foalish Night

As I sleep, I begin to dream. I'm in a meadow with the wind sweeping gently across the tall grass. A whistling noise makes me look around, and I see my crush, Slashing Strike. He is a bit young, being only 13, but a princess is expected to choose her royal consort well ahead of time, and he will grow into a beautiful stallion. His lime green coat is like foliage in bloom, and his fiery red mane and fiery orange eyes compliment his brash will.

He flips his hair in the breeze. A smile overtakes my face as I come running, ready to ask him where he hath been...wait, been?

A sudden darkness overtakes the landscape and the wind speeds up. He groans in agony as a dark shadow grabs at his body with tentacles. His eyes close as I hear a familiar cackling. Nightmare Moon forms around him, his body disappearing.

I scream, but no sound comes out. Nightmare Moon's shadowy form extends out and wraps around me. I struggle, but it's futile, and I remember what hath happened: I was overtaken by her, by mine own envy, and in the time I was in the Moon, he most certainly perished. As Nightmare Moon assimilates me, her dark, twisted thoughts becoming mine own, I suddenly jolt awake.

As I sit up in my bed, alone, and in the dark, I pant slightly and wipe a tear from mine eye. When I calm down, I realize I have an ache in my skull and a nearly-bursting bladder. As well, my vision is blurry and I can hardly balance. After a few moments, I remember that I had a little too much wine and am definitely still under its harsh effects.

My first order of business is to address the pain by making sure the wine comes out in the bathroom and not all over my bedchambers, and so I stumble out of bed with all the grace of a ballerina on fire being devoured by eagles in a tornado. After I finally get the sheets off of my body, I throw open the door with a sound that startles the guards next to it. Out in the hall, I see the guardsmare from before waiting outside, cowering momentarily. She smiles at me weakly and leads the way towards the bathroom. I trot with a slight wobble, but a princess-like stride nonetheless.

As soon as we step inside the bathroom, I notice details I missed on my first time in, due to inebriation. As I stand there, looking around, I see there's brilliantly-smooth white tiling on the floor, a blue tint to the walls, porcelain sinks all set in a marble counter, an array of toilets starting with some inset 'squat' ones, then some odd throne-like ones further along. It dawns on me that in these modern times, even the privy can be like a throne room, and perhaps were I not full of wine, I would be able to sit regally as I do my business.

"Um, princess, if I may ask, do you need help or privacy or...?" the guardsmare asks, breaking my slight trance.

I stumble forward and clear my throat. "No no, I'm quite fine. Just...talk with me, if thou will", I say, hoping that the guard is feeling better than in our previous interaction.

She nods and trots to the second floor-inset toilet from the door. As she rather violently lets out an accumulation of wind, I notice her blush and give me a strange look; after a moment, I realize it to be a hint that simply staring at a pony relieving themselves is no longer, after a thousand years, correct privy etiquette. I get in position over the closer toilet and sound mine own rear horn, then urinate in near-perfect unison with her, save for much greater force.

My physical feelings remind me of my sister earlier, and her warm, tender smile as well as the visage of her rear. The thought occurs that this mare would be useful to relieve some of my stress and get my mind off of my sister. I find it perplexing that such thoughts be mingled, but I shiver it away as my stream subsides.

"I would like thou to accompany me to my bedchambers", I say as I finish up with a shake and a feeling of relief.

Despite her defecatory grimace, she looks rather surprised. A plop later, she nods and wipes herself. She carelessly levitates the paper down, and it lands not in the water, but on her hoof, while she presses the lever pre-emptively. I clear my throat.

"Yes, princess?" she asks as her face goes pale.

I levitate away the paper, making her blush, and drop it into my water as I clean myself up. I chuckle a bit as I activate the whirpool and trot out with her hurriedly. 'Tis a short walk back, thankfully for my poor gait.

"Princess, do you normally pee with a guard?" she asks.

"Pee? Oh, thou means...no, 'twould normally be with my sister or alone, but tonight hath been anything but normal", I say dismissively.

"Right, sorry about the toilet paper, princess, it's just I'm so stressed with this job I can...forget things", she explains nervously upon entering the privacy my chambers.

"Of course. I suppose we are similar in that regard. I consumed a whole bottle of wine tonight", I admit as a show of good faith.

She at first seems stunned, but then cracks a smile, and starts to giggle uncontrollably. I let her go on for a bit before clearing my throat, making her stand with a salute.

"Oh, sorry, sorry princess! I guess I'm just struggling a little to control myself", she says as an excuse.

I resist the urge to chastise her and sigh as I notice a heat in my nether regions. "Well, in that we are also alike. I'm in a significantly less powerful and...mature state than normal, after having Nightmare Moon's evil purged. My body 'tis barely adolescent, and my mind suffers equally."

"Will you get as big as Celestia?" she asks.

"Not quite, but I shall definitely dwarf thee. Now, thou art prepared to lay down thy life for me, are thou not?" I ask with a stern look.

"Um, y-yes...", she says shakily.

"I have a duty thou can fulfill, but if thou dost, thou must be sworn to secrecy and to die upon ending it. I cannot reveal the nature of it without agreement beforehoof", I say threateningly.

She gulps, but nods and looks at me with what little determination she can muster.

"Very well. Thou art to live in my bedchambers and perform sexual acts on command. Celestia is not to know unless she specifically asks. Keep this secret even from other guards", I say with a regal, yet casual, tone.

Her eyes go wide and she looks about ready to bolt. "I-I will do my best, princess, but why must I die upon ending this duty? I can keep it a secret!", she says with her signature nervous shake.

"I cannot afford to trust that, and a dead pony tells no tales. Don't worry, 'tis likely I will require thy services until thou art at too old an age to be attractive, and I will make sure thy beheading takes only a single stroke when it occurs", I say with a slightly higher pitch than normal to reassure her.

It doesn't seem to work very well, as she replies with a sort of raspy whimper. Times must be different from when ponies' life expectancies were measured in seasons.

"Apologies, I sometimes forget how ponies with shorter lifespans fear their own demise. I shall take thy mind off it by engaging thee in the duty agreed to. Remove thine armor, lay down upon my bed, relax, and reciprocate mine actions", I say most regally for giving a command amounting to little more than a commoner instructing a harlot to "prepare thine anus".

While I quickly get off my little princess shoes, it takes over a minute for the mare to get rid of the bulky, gold-colored metal. Such ceremonial armor is surely more fit for parades than fighting, being that it protects only the least vulnerable parts of a pony with heavy plate and hath not even a tabbard underneath. When she finally is in position, her pose is like that of a lost puppy awaiting a stranger to rub its underside. I resist the urge to chuckle and slowly get in place atop her.

Her eyes awkwardly look about as I lower myself down. 'Tis because of this that the first and most important act of love-making, as I have discovered watching shameless villagers after celebrations, is to render the 'bitch' helpless by disabling her sight and speech with one's own mouth. I forcefully kiss her, making her squeak, and probe into her mouth with my tongue.

As our bellies come together, she is indeed helpless, and slightly shaking as I rub her side with a hoof, going lower until I'm touching her buttcheek. Her tongue barely wrestles with mine own as I begin to pull on her cheek a bit to excite her. As for myself, I position my nethers atop one of her legs and begin to rub with my whole body. Heat grows solely in my marehood while the mare whimpers and moans into my mouth.

With both of us sufficiently aroused, I quickly get up and turn around, then sit upon her face. She gives a short muffled scream as my rear suddenly encompasses her face, and I moan as I feel the tip of her snout and her hot breath between my folds. To make sure I'm not too selfish, I then forcibly spread apart her rear legs and stroke at her crotch with a hoof. Her resulting moan vibrates my nethers slightly, making them tingle.

As I rub the labia, the guardsmare finally extends her tongue. 'Tis quite clear from the short, singular lick that this is her first time with a mare, perhaps even her first time ever. I myself have little experience but with a few maids, and I'm quite certain as I make my first vocalization of pleasure that the linear and circular stroking motions I am making upon her flower are amateurish. Even so, 'tis sufficient that she struggles to pleasure me more as her raggedy breath brushes my holes.

In order to incentivize the guardsmare more, I use my magic to form an ethereal, self-lubricating phallic object. I brush the tip slightly upon her exit sphincter to give her some warning, and her whole rear half squirms in surprise. I chuckle for a moment before she pushes her snout harder against my rear, nose tickling mine own sphincter while her tongue slips between my petals; my eyes cross a bit as I shudder and moan.

I take a moment to recompose myself under the slithering tongue's assault, and then, while lightly rubbing her, push the ethereal marital aid into her puckered exit, making it clench slightly as her whole body shivers; her tongue in particular wriggles madly deep inside my little tunnel of love. The mare is quite adept, continuing to keep up the tongue movement, which makes my heat build and build. I soon know from my bladder that I'm about to finish. My mind again goes to memories of Celestia while I was drunk on the toilet, and I am too weak in this state to fight it.

'Tis mere moments of sweaty panting before my climax arrives. First, my body stiffens and my holes clench against her snout. Next, my flower unleashes the nectar prepared inside, squeezing it out around her tongue. Finally, as my mind goes momentarily blank, I cry out a name.

"Celestia!" I scream at the top of my lungs as my holes convulse.

For a bit, I slouch forward, unable to think. My hoof idly rubs at the clitoris of the guardsmare, and soon she squirms under me as she experiences her own release, with an impressive squirting of her own nectar. As her tongue slides out of me, I realize that I just shouted the name of my sister. 'Tis good that the doors to these chambers are well-insulated for acoustic properties.

As much as I would like to figure out what my problem is, I have a pounding head and severe exhaustion. I roll over off the guardsmare, and resign myself to sleep without even bothering turning around. Meanwhile, my partner wordlessly puts her hooves around my backside and uses my buttcheeks as if they were a pillow.

While most of my sleep this time is dreamless, I briefly accidentally wander into the dreams of my sister. She's back at our old castle, conversing with me at dusk before it happened.

"Luna, you seemed distracted at court yesterday. Is there anything you wish to share?" she asks in her ever-pleasant tone before sipping some tea.

Before my younger self can respond, I hop into her body to take control, more on instinct than any real intent, as I'm still in a haze from events in the waking world. I take a moment to think, and realize that this is an old memory, of a time when I lied. I know I can't correct the past, but perhaps I can find something out, and so this time, I tell the truth.

"Yes, there is, sister. I quite fancy a certain colt named Slashing Strike. He will become a great adventurer one day, perhaps at my side", I say plainly.

"Ah, my younger sister after a royal consort. He certainly admires you, but are you sure? None of my consorts were ever so brash, and I get the strange feeling that he will soon perish..." she says, trailing off.

"Elaborate", I say sternly.

My sister is taken aback momentarily, not having expected such a reply.

"Uh, well, I believe he shall...be consumed with grief over a lost love and...pursue dragon-slaying. Luna, none who have ever attempted to slay a dragon have lived to tell a tale, and I fear he will bring other ponies into it!" she says with panic clear on her face.

"I see. How soon after this did it happen, and did thou recover his bones from the various ash or dung piles?" I ask with a face of resigned apathy.

Celestia seems to hyperventilate a moment as the dream world around us shatters like glass, but remains together. I have produced a nightmare, but I cannot yet stop.

"T-two years from now. No ashes, none of the teenagers in his group even presented enough of a threat to be burned..." she says as tears start to form amid her ragged breathing.

'Tis I who should be crying, but in the dreamscape, I am stronger.

"I suppose it's fitting that mine absence turned my crush into a pile of shit", I say rudely before walking off with Celestia's teacup to sip.

I hear the clatter of a teapot hitting the floor; the same for the very world around me follows, mixed with my sister's loud sobbing. I'm in too much anguish to even consider how badly I have just acted.