You are Starlight Glimmer, and you are relapsing. The first time was an accident.
Twilight and Spike are off on some business at Canterlot, and you sort of let your guard down. It's not like it's wrong to masturbate to anatomical illustrations in Twilight's study. You have a towel, nothing would get damaged. But as you get into it, you sort of zone out, your vision narrowing to the exquisitely drawn dragon cock before you. Your horn glows as you alter the cornu voluptatis spell to match. Suddenly, you hear the door open.
"Hel-"
You panick. You blitz through the formula, your already charged horn casting the spell nigh instantaneously.
Time
Stops.
You whirl to face the door. Anon stands frozen, staring at you. You take a few steps towards him in the absolute silence. He stares at where you were, and you breath a sigh of relief. Thank the stars, it worked. You levitate the towel into your saddlebags, and close the anatomy book. Just glancing at the illustration as you close it makes your marehood ache. You check on Anon, still frozen. You pause to admire the bulge in his pants. You know what he told Twilight, but part of you wonders if he's always this lewd because he loves teasing mares. You stare at it, mouth watering a little. No, you shouldn't do this, even if nopony will know.
Nopony will know. Your thighs rub together. You are a bad pony. You lean forward and gently press your snout against the fabric covering his bulge. His musky scent sets your body tingling and your tail lashing back and forth. You pant, inhaling his scent. You can practically taste him. With a shudder, you pull yourself away and gallop to the bathroom. In the stopped time, you plunge your magic into your pussy again and again. Perhaps to punish yourself for your transgression against Anon, you abandon subtlety. The spell loses all realism and morphs into a writhing, bumpy mass of vibrating ether. You cum in less than a minute, your juices splashing into the toilet below. You sigh, feeling dirtier than you have ever felt. Anon must never know.
You clean up after yourself quickly, and trot back to where you were. You browse for a book on magic theory, and sit down under Anon's frozen gaze. Your stomach flips a little at how helpless he is right now. Imagine if you shared this spell with some mare, they would be a menace to stallions everywhere. No, you need to keep this a secret as well. You cancel the spell, and Anon blinks.
"-lo Starlight, have you seen Twilight anywhere?"
You blink, then smile politely.
"I'm afraid not. Have you tried checking the market? I think we may be low on eggs, so she probably went to get some."
Anon grins at you.
"Thanks, I'll try there next."
Such a cute smile.
Each time afterward...
He was about to drop a carton of eggs, no reason why you should let them go to waste. And you only sniffed him a little bit, a small reward for a small favor.
Anon pranked you with whipped cream on your hoof and tickling your snout while you were sleeping. You had to pay him back somehow. That was the first time you touched him. Your hoof on those thicc, foalchasing thighs. He never understood why you didn't get mad at all, but there is no way you would tell him why.
And then there is today. Thorax dragged you off to the hive, ostensibly to help choose colors for the interior. He spends hours agonizing and ignoring your every suggestion before ending up with moss green and slate blue. Still, he thanked you sweetly afterward, and you guess you were a good friend to him.
You barely got enough time to eat lunch when Trixie barreled into your room. Apparently the Flim Flam brothers asked her out. Both of them. How can Trixie be such an utter Trixie? And why did she have to sing about it? By the time she left, you wanted nothing more than to veg out on the couch with a good book.
And that is exactly what you do. It is some silly romance novel, about a butler being taken advantage of by his mistress and a visiting duchess. You are just getting to the part where the duchess has him "massage" her teats when you hear Anon talk to you.
"Hey, sorry to bother you, but would you mind levitating some furniture while I sweep?"
You mark your place and look up. He is smiling apologetically. Your mind catches up with your ears, and you sigh.
"Sure, where do you want to start?"
Anon beams at you.
"Thanks so much. I'll start over in that corner, if you could get the cabinet?"
You watch him work, the gentle sway of his lithe figure, the subtle flexing of his rump as he twists and turns. Not to mention the appeal of watching a janefilly doing something so domestic. You feel your stress transmute into a low level arousal. You watch him as he cleans the entire sitting room. By the time he puts the broom and dustpan away, you are uncomfortably aroused. He flops down on the couch, splayed in such a defenseless way.
"Ugh, this castle is way too fucking big."
You smirk.
"Maybe you should let the staff do all the cleaning."
Anon snorts.
"No, I gotta pay you all back somehow. Besides, it's Feather Duster's birthday, she should get the day off."
How sweet. You can't take your eyes off his prominently displayed crotch. He rolls his head to look at you, and you look up at his relaxed smile.
"Oh, and thanks for the help. Makes things go a lot quicker."
"My pleasure."
As you levitate your novel towards the coffee table, you secretly set up the time stop. The book hits the table with a muted thump, and everything freezes. You deserve a reward, after everything. You slide off the couch and trot over between his legs. You can smell the subtle tang of his sweat, and his musk is unusually strong. Your heart pounds as you sit down between his feet and lay your head down. You can feel the soft lump of his flaccid member against your cheek, his scent filling your nose. It is hard to think over your blazing hot arousal. You pant, climbing up his torso, dragging your tuft against his belly and chest. You sit in his lap, nuzzling his neck and rocking your hips gently.
You really shouldn't be doing this. But it's too late now. You pull back slightly, staring at his frozen face. You lick your lips. Then you peck him on the lips. A thrill runs through you, pure pleasure lightly seasoned with guilt. You press your lips against his for longer, savoring his warmth. You should stop, stop before you go too far. You stare at his lazy grin.
"Tell me to stop, Anonymous. Tell me now."
Of course he doesn't say anything, he can't. But that smile. It's like permission. You lick his cheek. Delicious. You lick his lips. Delectable. You can no longer restrain yourself, and lock lips with him again. Your tongue presses past his lips, only to meet his teeth only slightly parted. Your magic pulls on his chin, and you have full access. Your tongue pushes and plays with his limp tongue. You taste him, your saliva mixing with his, your hips grinding your wet snatch against his crotch. It's a shame he can't get an erection while frozen in time, but he still has enough for you to rub against. You eventually break the kiss, and pull back to admire your hoofywork.
Anon's mouth gapes open, your spit trailing down his chin, his cheek glistening where you licked him. You feel some indescribable feeling well up within you, and you kiss him again and again, licking all over his face and neck. You giggle.
"I've marked you, now you're mine."
You feel high. You feel sweltering between your legs, a need to mark him in an entirely different way. You climb off of Anon and seize his pants in your magic. They slide off, his boxers coming along too. At last, you see his dick in all its glory.
Well, not all of its glory. It's not erect, but that just makes it cute. You take it into your mouth, sucking on his cock, tasting it utterly and completely. It's a strange flavor, but you think you can grow to like it, especially with your muzzle buried in his pubic hair. His musk is overpowering, telling your body primal truths. You need him inside you. You let his stallionhood fall from your mouth and scramble up onto his lap. Your magic finds his limp member, and guides it easily. You nearly have a heart attack as his dick slips between your well-lubricated lips. You moan, not from any feeling of intense stimulation, but from the mere knowledge that his cock is inside of you.
You lose yourself to your instincts, grinding your clit against his waist, clenching muscles around the soft rod in your pussy. You magic his hands onto your hips, holding you there as you drench his crotch in your marecum. You kiss him again and again, whimpering in pleasure. Your breathing comes in gasps as you hump him, your clit sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You push one of his fingers into your asshole, and immediately fall apart. Your thighs clench around him as you ride out your orgasm, moaning and whining in animal ecstasy. You slump against him, slowly catching your breath. As your sweaty body cools, you come to your senses.
Oh no!
You stare at his damp shirt and his glistening crotch. You get to your hooves, his cock sliding out of you. Okay, don't panic, you have all the time in the world. What do you need to do? You glance over at his pants on the floor, which are also soiled from your proactive masturbation session.
"Okay, we can fix this, we just need to replace everything."
You take his Anon's clothes off and gallop towards his room. You rifle through his dresser and find pants and boxers of the same color. Unfortunately, he doesn't have a duplicate of his shirt, but that one is close enough that it should be fine, right? You head down to the laundry room and stuff the soiled clothes in the middle of the pile of dirty clothes. Never have you been so glad that Anon isn't colty enough to do his own laundry. Coming back to the sitting room, you are hit with the pungent odor of your cum.
Right. Wet towels with scented soap, and switching out the couch cushion for another in an unused guest room. That's everything, right? You climb up onto the couch and settle back into your spot. Then you see his face, still covered in your saliva.
...
That taken care of, you silently apologize to the cleaning staff and end the time spell. Anon blinks, his jaw fidgeting a little. Oh no, does he still taste you from when you kissed him?
"You're a good mare, Starlight."
He then rolls his head to face the ceiling and sighs happily. Meanwhile, your stomach churns with guilt. You took advantage of this poor, sweet human, and he has no idea how thoroughly you've violated him. You are the worst.
