Spike, the adorable shota drake of Ponyville, pushed open the door to Carousel Boutique as he’d done so many times before. The door didn’t creak, for the master of this house kept everything, including the door hinges, as elegant as possible. And, as he’d done so many times before, he quickly surveyed the lobby for anything that seemed off. Rarity was a very meticulous and tidy mare. She had a tendency to throw overly dramatic fits whenever anything was removed from its proper place; but only in the company of others, because drama without an audience was pointless. The exception to this rule, obviously, was when things were deliberately moved to new places. The reason behind these moves could be as benign as redirecting the flow of inspirational energy in the room in order to stimulate her more creative side. However, more likely than not, in Spike’s experience, the reason for an object’s movement was as a marker for some sort of trap.

Spike smirked to himself as he spied several such traps in his immediate vicinity. The nearest was a scarf haphazardly discarded upon the floor not ten dragon steps from the door. It was pink, slightly worn, and looked like it had been meant for either the trash or the donation bin, but Spike knew better. Whereas careless newcomers might ignore the scarf and merely step over it, Spike knew to keep at least five dragon steps away at all times. However, if he did so by going around to the left, he would encounter a second dilemma in the form of a string.

The string was purple and only about three inches long. It did not appear to be connected to anything and even a veteran of Rarity’s shop might have missed it against the purple floor. Spike pondered why Rarity would include such a hard-to-spot trap indicator in such a place so close to the door. Usually she gave her intended victims a fair chance to evade her clutches, provided that they were vigilant. That she would up the difficulty level could only be because she knew that he, Spike the dragon, was coming. It might have just been a result of growing up with Twilight as a guardian, but the drake could not imagine any other possibility than this being a test of some sort. Spike’s chest swelled with pride at the thought of Rarity thinking so highly of his skill.

Rarity was a lady of class, mild sadism, and had an appreciation for accomplishment. Knowing her as well as he thought he did, Spike concluded that Rarity must have set up an array of challenges just for him. Entering the Boutique to the back room would be far harder than usual, and the option to leave was always available. However, such a notion was immediately overridden by a whisper deep in the drake’s core. It urged him on, reasoning that high risks yielded high rewards, that a cave with so many traps must surely be in defense of some truly great treasure.

Spike’s imagination took him to just such a cave. A vast tunnel of stone stretched out before him, lit by dim torches that did little to reveal the true dangers that lay in waiting. At the end of it all was a staircase. At the end of that stair case would be a room with a treasure chest. And within that treasure chest… Spike wiped the drool from his chin. If there was one thing he learned from watching Twilight, it was the dangers of thinking so far ahead that you forgot to act within the now.

In his imagination, Spike was no longer the little beansprout no taller than a foal with lingering baby pudge and hips that gave his walk an undignified waddle most of the time. Rather, he saw himself as a brave and gallant knight, about four times as tall with muscles for miles and an ass as firm as diamond. Also he had wings, because wings were cool, but he wouldn’t use them to overcome this challenge, because that would be cheating. Spike began his expedition into Rarity’s tunnel of dangers with a dodge roll to the right, because all the best heroes did dodge rolls. This moved him clear of the first two obstacles, a pit full of living scarves with teeth and a spider web made out of silken thread. “Child’s play!” he boldly proclaimed. And on he went.

Spike the brave and gallant only narrowly avoided the spikes that fell from the ceiling, as well as the darts that shot from the walls. The giant boulder made of yarn was especially harrowing. Looking back, Spike saw that his path was taking him along a zigzag pattern through the tunnel of imminent doom, often requiring him to backtrack at points. After a bit, Spike spied something that was definitely out of place, but was most certainly not an indicator of any sort of trap. Picking up the Joyboy, Spike brought it to his nose and took a deep inhale. “Button,” he stated grimly. The truth was as evident as it was terrifying. Spike, brave and gallant warrior that he was, had not been the first to enter the tunnel this day.

***

Meanwhile, up in the design room, an assembly of six innocent ponies had been tied down atop the backs of marequins. They had all come in for benign reasons, such as getting a status update on their orders or entering the wrong building by accident. They’d been careless, and were now suffering the consequences. Their backs were held straight and hooves restrained, the six innocent ponies could only moan in blissful agony as the vibrators shoved up their asses went to town on their sensitive insides. These weren’t ordinary vibrators either, but custom made after a model of a certain purple reptiles prepubescent cock. Their commissioner had brought them out in the hopes that it would better set the mood.

“Nnngh! Can we go now?” moaned Berry Punch from atop the pony shape. She was swaying slightly, causing the unique texture of the vibrator to grind along her anal canal. The friction was terribly stimulating, so much so that she’d lost track of how long she’d been trapped here, or how many orgasm’s she’d had. The amount of moister pooling on the marequin’s back and dripping down her inner legs would suggest quite a bit. “I’ve been here so long I’m starting to sober up.” There came a tingle of magic as a bottle of cheap booze levitated before the professionally shit-faced mare. “Oh, thank you.” She perked up immediately and eagerly began to suckle like an infant with a nipple.

“C-can I have my Joyboy back?” whined the adolescent brown colt. “I’m, oooh, b-bored.” Seeing how Berry’s complaining had gotten rewarded, Button had hoped to get something as well. Playing his game would require his hooves being untied, but the colt had no intention of taking advantage of the opportunity. He didn’t normally like playing with his butt, but the vibrator had been up there so long that he’d gotten used to it. The stimulation was different, but he didn’t hate it. If the master of this castle had seen fit to entrap intruders like this, then that was technically her right. Mostly he was just bummed about losing his game progress from this morning.

“N-not very convincing k-kid,” offered Thunderlane through happy pants. “You should really try and enjoy yourself.” Unlike some of the others, the older stallion was eagerly rocking his hips back and forth to get the most out of his experience. Besides it simply feeling good, he’d had enough adjustments on his various outfits to know the dangers of angering the mistress (of evil).

“You should listen to him, little one.” Her voice was smooth as silk, yet her cadence had a distinct undertone of danger. “Being happy is often its own reward. Not to mention it pleases me ever so much to see my darling pets satisfied with my work.” Then the mistress (of evil) switched to more of a pouty whine. “It makes me sad to see my lovelies not having a good time. Why, I’d hate to think that perhaps, just perhaps, I’m not doing enough to give my playthings what they need.”

Her implications were clear. So, after everypony’s hearts started beating again, they all followed Thunderlane’s lead and got to rocking, experimenting to find which positions felt the best. The mistress (of pure and devious evil) gave a dainty half smirk, pleased with their reactions. Today was going splendidly so far, and if her latest guest performed as well as she hoped, then this just might be The. Best. Possible. Day!

***

Downstairs, the brave and gallant knight’s muscled chest was heaving with his labored breaths. Looking back on his recent trials, Spike still couldn’t believe all of the work Rarity had put into what could only be described as an obstacle course. There were more than twelve times the usual amount of traps, and all at a far higher level of difficulty than usual. No one, not even Twilight using her full arsenal of spells, could get through them all, and yet he had. To say that the young drake was getting a big head from this realization would be an understatement. Spike’s eyes widened as he turned to face the door to the upstairs, only a couple meters away. He’d traversed the untraversable, and now the inner whisper hungering for treasure had evolved to a deafening roar of celebration. The test had nearly been passed, victory was neigh, and the prize would soon be his.

“No,” he chided himself. “Don’t get cocky. That leads to sloppiness, which will just cost me everything.”

He was right, of course. Rarity was the finest, most elegant lady in all the land. She would never settle for sloppiness, for such was unbecoming of a gentledrake like himself. So Spike, the brave and gallant knight, righted himself and once more scanned the horizon with his keen dragon eyes, only for his heart to sink at what he beheld.

Nothing. There was nothing. In the short distance between himself and the foot of the stairs, he couldn’t see anything. No discarded garments, no unusual dust patterns on the ceiling, not even an errant thread in the finely cleaned carpet. There was nothing, yet that was impossible. There had to be something. The last leg of the journey was always the hardest. This, Spike knew from the voice in his core. It’s how he would set up a dungeon of peril. It was simply how dungeons were meant to be. He’d never been told as such, for such a thing had never been stated in neither his, nor Twilight’s readings, yet he knew this to be an irrefutable truth. Rarity, almost as brilliant as she was lovely, should also know this fundamental truth. Thusly, the only conclusion Spike could draw was that there was something he wasn’t seeing.

Spike scanned the room once more, twice more, and then another six times. He looked behind himself to count all of the traps he’d narrowly avoided, set off prematurely, or circumvented entirely by choosing different paths. Ninety nine in total. That sealed it for him. Rarity had a distaste for the number nine. It was so close to the elegant completeness of ten, only to stop short. Ninety nine of anything would never be allowed in Rarity’s home. There had to be one more. At minimum, there had to be one more trap to round things out to an even one hundred, so where was it?

“Oh Spi~ike!” called a melodious voice from upstairs.

Spike’s ear fins flicked. He’d been so focused on his immediate surroundings that his senses had neglected anything beyond. Now that he was so close to the stairs, he could hear the moans of other ponies, no doubt the very ones he’d found evidence of being taken along his journey. No doubt they’d been captured and placed in the care of the one who’d orchestrated this ordeal, she who was his goal. They sounded like they were enjoying themselves.

Spike felt a pang of envy. They were being pleasured by the mistress (of twisted and perverse evil). They were moaning such delight, because of course they were. If they weren’t gagged, there was no other sound that she would tolerate. The mistress (of generous yet domineering evil) loved to make her captives feel good. And Spike, if he allowed himself to be captured as well, if he simply gave in and surrendered to her will, then he could also have…

The drake slapped himself across the face with a mighty crack. “Get it together!” he hissed. At this stage, surrender probably wouldn’t be as ire inducing as sloppiness. He’d just be giving into the allure that was the mistress of this domicile. Surely such an indulgence might be forgiven, but no. No, Spike had come too far now to just give up. Rarity was up there, waiting for him, counting on him to succeed where no one else could. He couldn’t let her down, or himself for that matter. If he made it to the end, well, he could scarcely imagine what would be in it for him, but he knew that he wanted it, craved it, deserved it.

Spike took one last look around the room, counting up every trap and mapping its location in his mind’s eye. The final obstacle continued to elude him, but that was fine. He’d formulated a strategy. Mindful of the traps still behind him, Spike began to carefully measure the final stretch of distance towards his goal. With a running start, he might just barely manage to leap across the gorge of certain doom, avoid the final trap(s), and claim victory.

Though brave and gallant, Spike the knight knew the virtue of caution when dealing with a horny unicorn. He backed up, eyes constantly darting between his feet and his surroundings. No new traps had caught his eye, but he should assume that the last stretch of carpet was a danger zone to be avoided at all costs. Having reached the minimum running distance while maintaining his own safety, Spike took a second to control his breathing. It all came down to this moment and he had to fully commit himself mind, body, and soul.

Eyes on the prize, Spike commenced his sprint. Normally he was a waddeler, what with his pudgy thighs, rounded buttocks, and overall thiccness, but he’d grown well into his new shape these last few months. His sprint accelerated at a remarkable speed. Ever mindful of the terrain, Spike waited until he was atop the invisible border marking the zone of the unknown before making his leap of faith. He was doing it. Leaping through the air, soaring through the sky like he had proper wings, Spike was making the leap. He was going the distance. He was making it!

And then he inelegantly met the ground.

*Pomf*

That was the sound of Spike face planting into the impossibly soft carpet. It didn’t take long for the drake to realize that this wasn’t carpet at all, but a pillow. Gears painted to camouflage into the ceiling began to turn and the pillow quickly folded to envelope his little body. Spike tried to scamper free, but it was already too late. Hoisted into the air, Spike was now sealed up in a pillow wrapped around his back, snugly confining his arms and legs while leaving his front exposed, and tied off with a pretty red ribbon. When struggling failed, he briefly considered using fire to free himself, but discarded the idea just as quickly. Rarity wouldn’t like him burning her things. Besides, he’d been caught fair and square. Escape now would go against the principle of the thing. And so Spike, humble and servile, hung his head low in a funk and awaited her arrival.

“Tsk, tsk,” Rarity chided as she descended the stairs and took in the scene of her sales floor. “And you were doing so well, too.”

Spike shot up to look at her, his funk banished by the sight of the gorgeous mare of his dreams. Her fur was alabaster white, groomed to perfection and would sometimes shine in the right light. Her mane, an elegantly swirled and violet quaff, had this entrancing shimmer no matter the light. Her figure was lean, well balanced, and with just the right amount of plumpness where it mattered, giving her ass a bit of a jiggle with each ladylike step. She flittered her azure eyes at the bound creature as she gave him a pleased yet disappointed smile.

“Good afternoon, Spikey-wikey.”

“H-hey, Rarity.” Spike blushed intensely, fighting to look the mare in the eye. He’d always felt just a little overwhelmed whenever he saw her, but now he was feeling something new: shame. She’d given him a task and, for the first time since they’d met, he’d failed to meet her expectations. It felt like disappointment was stabbing him right through the heart.

For Rarity, it was also a struggle to keep her expression that of mild amusement. Internally, she was in awe of just how well Spike had done. She had a hard time imagining anypony making it this far, not even herself, and yet Spike had done it. He’d made it all the way to the impossible trap, co-designed by none other than Pinkie Pie, mistress of try-not-to-think-about-it. Truth be told, Rarity was impressed beyond words at what Spike had accomplished, but she couldn’t let him know that, at least not yet. For now, he had to think he’d failed, had to be brought down low so that she could raise him back up again. Such was the nature of the game.

“You made it quite far,” Rarity stated impassively as she surveyed the boutique. “Much further than the others.”

Spike just gave a despondent huff.

“Now, now. Don’t be like that, darling.” Rarity lit her horn and flipped a switch. The gears turned and the rope lowered Spike down to eyelevel with her. “You might not have crossed the finish line-” which was technically about four meters behind him “-but you still came in first out of all participants. That counts for something.”

Daring to hope, Spike looked up and met Rarity’s eyes. Those shimmering azure orbs roamed his body with such hunger, such longing, that Spike was sporting an erection before he’d even realized it.

Rarity’s demure smile tripled in size as she absently licked her lips. Spike had grown to the point in his development where he now sported a hemipenis; street name double dick. He effectively had two very distinct cocks, though they were technically a single organ. By Rarity’s reckoning, each member was above average for a colt of Spike’s size, a slightly pinker shade of purple than his scales, and capped off with spear-like tips. Simply looking at this exotic treat brought Rarity’s futa cock out to join the party as her imagination ran to all of the obvious spots.

“Goodness, Spikey-wikey! You’ve certainly grown since last we met.”

Spike felt his confidence return, glad for the absence of disappointment in Rarity’s voice. He then glanced down where Rarity’s lustful gaze had been fixating and decided to go a step further. “Nah. This is about my usual growth whenever you’re around.”

Caught off guard, Rarity threw a hoof over her snoot to hide her tittering. “My, my, but aren’t you the little charmer.”

“I can’t help it. When seeing such a pretty and charming mare, I always feel like I gotta do my part to measure up.” He gave his hips a little thrust, making his hemipenis bob as if to nod in affirmation.

For reasons Rarity didn’t fully understand, it felt like her heart had just done a backflip, but she managed to bring her lustful craving back under control. “You really know how to make a lady feel appreciated,” she said with a bit more sentiment than intended. “That’s what every lady, no, what everypony wants, really. We want to be appreciated, to know that there is something about us that others value. It’s certainly how I try to conduct myself with my little pets. I go through the effort of binding them to my will, and giving them exquisite pleasure in exchange for their submission. It’s a lot of work, but that’s how I show that I care.”

Spike swooned. Were he not currently suspended in midair, he’d probably collapse to the floor, which was technically true on multiple levels. He adored Rarity. It wasn’t just because she was the hottest thing since Celestia, which she absolutely was. She had a way of caring, which, while intimidating and unorthodox to say the least, came from a very sincere place. The drake only wished he wasn’t so busy swooning that he could tell her as much.

“And you, Spikey-wikey,” she continued, stealing another glance at his groin. “Your new equipment is merely the cherry atop a very large and layered ice-cream sundae.” She giggled at his confusion. “Most of my playthings are intimidated by me, you know,” she confessed, revealing a sliver of disappointment. “While understandable, it can sometimes get lonely when they come to my shop only when they need to. But you, darling. You visit as much as you can because you want to. Your work ethic cannot be understated and your words are as delightful to the ear as your tongue is to a clit,” she finished with a cluck of her tongue.

Spike shuddered. “Uh, can you let me down now?” he asked while struggling. “I’d like to get free of this so I can-”

“Free?” Rarity pretended to be shocked. “Darling, why would you ever want to be free of me?”

“Or loose. Whatever.” Swallowing his annoyance, Spike decided to rephrase his desire. “If it please you, milady,” he accentuated with a respectful bow that made Rarity’s pussy start to wink like it just came back into fashion. “I would like to be let down. All this talk about appreciation makes me feel like there’s more that I could be doing.” He suggestively flickered his forked tongue before sucking the organ back in with a wet and audible slurp.

Rarity’s eyes narrowed in dangerous accusation. “One of these days, that silver tongue of yours is going to get you fucked beyond all reason.” She immediately regretted her word choice, already knowing how Spike would retort.

“Oh? Is that today?” he asked with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. “Glad I cleared my calander.”

Rarity’s smile had been lost, consumed by the teeth she bore in frustration. “My pussy is dripping down my thighs,” she informed in a low growl. “I had taken a bath not an hour ago to make myself ready for you, and you go and get me sticky before we can even start.” Her words sounded petulant, even to her. A lady of her caliber did not blame others for their arousal, least of all a minor like Spike. No, they took responsibility for themselves, and reminded the accused party of their place.

“See, now if I were free, I could maybe, you know, clean you with a tongue bath,” Spike offered, feigning disinterest. “I’d lay you down on the bed, press my cheek on you-hrmf?” Spike was silenced by an azure cloud of sparkles pinching his lips closed.

“I think we’ve dawdled enough down here,” Rarity stated, retaking control of the situation. She undid the rope, but kept Spike bound in the pillow. Using her magic, she impatiently carried her captive upstairs and down the hall to her design room. In her frustration, she needlessly slammed the door open, startling her other playthings. “Sorry about that,” she said while not even looking their way. The alabaster mare carried her latest prize to the center of the room, freed him of his pillow prison, and placed him upon one of her latest purchases.

Spike tested the softness of this new, soft, and freshly cleaned white surface. “This a futon?”

“A dragon of culture, I see.” Rarity’s frustration with the drake’s cocky attitude only barely won out against her awe at his worldly knowledge. “Yes. These aren’t terribly common in Equestria, but I’ve found this one makes for a lovely conversation starter as a foreign form of bedding. Imagining the possibilities of such an item, all of the ponies that I could play with upon its comfortable surface without hauling around a full mattress or couch, has proven an excellent source of creative stimulation. And, when not in use, I find it lovely as a rug.”

Spike waited for Rarity to finish before turning around. He got down onto his hands and knees as he crawled around and tested the feel of the futon. “Hmm. Even though it’s a little thin, this has pretty good support. Like a sleeping bag. I could probably do all kinds of stuff laying on this,” he thought aloud, his tone feigning innocence. He crawled around upon the fabric, feeling out different places and bouncing a little to test the density. All the while his back was pointed at Rarity. Rather, his hiked tail and chubby dragon butt were aimed squarely in her direction.

Rarity found herself briefly transfixed. Something about that luscious little rump seemed even more enticing than usual. Was it bigger? Did it have more of a bubble shape? It was entirely possible. The drake’s body had undergone some remarkable changes since she’d first brought him into her shop and played with him. And each and every one of those changes had increased his appeal. It could have been his new double dick dangling just below those scrumptious little cheeks. That was certainly a possibility as well, as he’d had a mere mono-dick the last time he’d bent over for her. Then again, the last time he’d bent over for her had been at her request. This time he’d done so all on his own, just for her, wiggling that shapely little bottom in the way that he knew she loved. Those rich, full, purple cheeks jiggled around the stretch of soft green that marked his underside. And at the center of it all, the core, was that dark green pucker that had brought her such delight these last few months. It twitched like it knew it was being watched, no doubt anxious to yet again demonstrate its exquisite tightness and welcoming warmth.

“Whoooa!” Berry Punch whistled. “Yeah. Dinner and a show! Shake it, baby!”

Looking up, Spike finally took notice of his audience. Four mares, a stallion, and a colt were all watching him. The mares were hooting and hollering their enjoyment of his little display. Confidence boosted further, he turned his rear slightly to give them a better view, resulting in their raised volume. The stallion was less enthusiastic, appraising the drake as one would a piece of art, his erection clearly a result of Rarity’s work and not the drake’s allure. He understood the idea of the appeal, but wasn’t terribly moved by it, which was just fine by Spike. Dude dicks weren’t the drake’s thing, anyway. Last was the colt, who Spike recognized as Button. The little brown fuzz ball looked confused more than anything, with just a hint of impatience. Clearly he was the least happy to be here and Spike couldn’t help but pity the poor guy.

The cheers of their audience had snapped Rarity back to reality. After which she’d followed Spike’s line of sight and took notice of the colt’s disgruntled expression. She reached the same conclusion as the drake, that he wasn’t enjoying himself like the others were. At first Rarity pitied this colt for failing to appreciate the beauty of the scene that was about to unfold, but then her heart sank from the realization that this was not the colt’s fault, but her own failure. She’d meant what she said earlier about hating the idea of not doing enough to please all of her playthings.

“I see,” the master of the house said in a most unsettling tone, bringing the room to a dead silence. All eyes fell upon her, seeing that she’d been looking at Button as she spoke. The colt’s blood went cold as all present reached the conclusion that he’d done something to displease the mare, and so feared for his wellbeing. Purpose in her heart, Rarity turned away and briskly trotted over to one of her chests, flipped it open, and began rummaging around. “Sorry, Spike,” she said into the chest as objects were moved about, “but there is something I must attend to, post haste. My credibility as a lady is on the line.” The word was spoken with weight.

Spike watched Rarity the entire time, concerned for her change in mood. Her tail was hiked to give them all a show as she searched, which was a relief. It meant that she was upset, but not so upset that she was ignoring them. Yet it was still hard for Spike to concentrate on her sublime ass cheeks, urgently winking pussy, and swinging balls. He had to wipe his lips clean of drool as his imagination began to run wild with all the things he would do with that pristine garden. However, concern won out over lust and, rather than jump her while she was distracted, he spoke up. “Whatever you need, I can help.”

“Thank you, darling. Alas, I am afraid this issue is mine alone to resolve.”

Spike glowered, not at all pleased with this answer. He stood and tried to look as serious as he could. “I’m not just gonna stand here and jerk it, ya know,” he informed while making a crude gesture with his hand. “It’s no fun if you’re not into it, too.”

Rarity had just found what she was looking for, but Spike’s words struck her like a sack of potatoes to the face. Though she had her reasons, it now occurred to her that she’d disrespected him by prioritizing the feelings of another over his, the one whom she’d invited. And despite that, he was still concerned for her, his only apparent source of offense was that she hadn’t let him help. If possible, her tail had just lifted itself even higher and the trickle of mare juices running down her leg had increased to a steady fountain flow. “S-Spike.”

Spike was growing worried at this latest change in tone. What was happening with her? “Uh, yeah?”

Rarity extricated herself from the chest and turned bodily to face Spike, a strange cylindrical device in her magic. “This is a mechanical cock sleeve. It’s essentially a vibrator designed for penises. The colt,” she swore internally at forgetting his name, “wasn’t enjoying himself, so I needed to correct the problem. Normally I’d prefer to use my own magic for such things, but I didn’t want my focus unnecessarily divided. I wanted an audience, Spike,” she confessed with deep, husky exhales as she stared wide-eyed at the drake. “I wanted as many ponies as I could catch to watch us make love.”

After a too long period of silence, Spike cleared his throat and tapped a fist to his chest. “Sorry. I think my heart stopped for a second there. What was that last word again?”

“You heard me,” Rarity panted. She levitated the device over to Button and affixed the contraption to his prepubescent penis, all the while never tearing her eyes from Spike. “Playthings come and go, Spike. For the longest time I’ve been content with this way of living, but you’re something different. And I’m not letting you leave this room until I’m convinced that you understand this truth.”

Hello, fear bonor. Haven’t seen you in a while. “Rarity…” Spike couldn’t find the words to express himself. A part of him wanted to yeet himself out the window and hope for the best, but a much larger part screamed that there was treasure to be had. It’s there, right in front of you, said the inner voice. Something precious is being freely offered. Stop being a pussy and take it already! Lacking the cognitive ability to offer a rebuttal to his own inner desires, Spike took a single step forward.

Free of all distractions, Rarity lit her horn and snatched Spike by the spade of his tail. “Ah, ah,” she tutted. “Your feelings have been obvious since day one. As I said, I will be the one convincing you of my feelings. That is,” she smirked, regaining her normal composure, “if you so wish.”

Spike laughed nervously. The grip on his tail was firm, lifting the spade up just high enough that he’d been effectively stopped from moving anywhere. Rarity had stolen his mobility, resulting in the desired effect of his growing nervouscitement. His words were awkward, but the best that he could muster. “Even if I actually had a choice, I’d still have no choice at all.”

Rarity chuckled as she began her slow swagger up to the soon-to-be subject of her affection. “That sounds like a line from a trashy romance novel.”

“Anklets of Iron, book four, chapter twelve. Twilight’s been reading while she-Oh!” Spike yelped as he felt the soft tingle of magic stroke along his little balls. “W-while butt fucks me in bed. We rrread togethhher,” he stammered his confession as tiny jolts of pleasure tickled at his brain.

This earned another, more reserved round of applause from the audience. Although they all knew it was happening and most had even seen it, the idea of an older futa mare pinning down a cute little shota and butt fucking his brains out was an appreciable turn-on.

Rarity purred like a lioness as she circled her prey. She was devouring him with her eyes as she drank in his unique shape. He was small, like a colt, yet even accounting for his being a biped, which was in itself an exotic sight, his proportions were off. The little drake was very bottom heavy in a way that vaguely resembled a bowling pin. A large head sat atop a rather scrawny chest, which was then supported by sumptuously wide hips and a shapely ass that most mares only dreamed of having. His figure really was rather feminine the more she thought about it, which was probably why he looked so attractive.

“Strictly speaking,” Rarity purred as she circled ever closer to her prey. “Although I take in all types, I have a general preference for mature and full figured mares.” Spike’s draconic musk was growing more pungent by the second as it permeated the room. Even so, she decided to be playful and lean in mere inches from his ear fin, inhale deeply, and then pelt his cheek with her hot exhale. She’d eaten tulips recently. He shivered delightfully, making both of her genitals twitch at the power she held over him. “Yet of all the creatures I’ve played with, Spike, you seem to embody many of my favorite feminine attributes while maintaining a cute, boyish charm.” Her heart leapt at his adorable tittering. “Do you know what I want to do to you, right now?”

Spike swallowed audibly. His inability to run and the predatory hunger in the mare’s eyes had terrified him to the core. It was like his heart was trying to escape right out of his ribs, though there was no point. Now that Rarity had set her sights on something she wanted, she was going to get it. Period. Yet her words seemed strange. Was this another test? Was she giving him a chance to decide where this went? Supposedly submissives were supposed to have the real power in sex, but the reasoning had never really made much sense to the drake. Oh well. It was probably best to start with a safe answer and see where things went from there. “You’re, uh, gonna fuck my ass?”

“Is that what you want, little boy?” cooed Rarity. She was closer than ever and gave another hot exhale against his neck spines. This caused his back to arch and his butt to stick out. She looked, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you want me to stick my, ahem, phat cock up your tight little boy pussy.” The frog of her hoof cupped around his left cheek, appraising its firmness to her liking. Her hoof began to glide along the smooth, rounded surface as she teased him further. “Do you want me to bend you over, pin your face to this lovely futon of mine, and shove it in like a stallion who’s lost all control?” She had no choice but to pull one cheek aside to give herself a clear, unobstructed view of his delectable little pucker. “Is that what you want, little boy?”

Spike was fervently balling and opening his palms to keep his hands occupied. Rarity wouldn’t appreciate him jerking off without permission, but his cocks were really starting to ache. There was an emptiness burning in his anal canal. Even his efforts to grind his butt cheeks together did nothing to alleviate the discomfort. Conversely, his balls ached with fullness. His body seemed very confused, wanting to get his ass rammed while simultaneously craving to empty his balls into a mare. It was with much effort that Spike eventually gave his reply. “N-no!”

“No? Why no?” Rarity asked as she continued toying with his little rump. She couldn’t put into words exactly how the little boy’s bottom had changed since last they played, but she was sorely tempted to petition Twilight to loan the drake out to her as a pillow to rest her weary head upon after those especially trying days.

“Y-you’re not a s-stallion,” Spike croaked out. “You’re a mare, a lady!” Feeling Rarity ease up on her teasing, Spike pressed on. “You’re the prettiest lady in all of Ponyville. I only like cocks on sexy futas, like you.” He turned his head to meet her eyes. “You said you wanted to make love, and that’s what I want. I want to show my love to the most lovely futa mare. Take my ass if that makes you happy, but there’s a lot more I could do that I know you’ll love.”

Rarity wanted to say something dismissive, something to remind the drake that she held absolute control in this domicile and that he was lucky that she’d even given him a chance to speak. But the words didn’t come. She tried again, opening her mouth, but the words died in her throat, coming out only as a longing swoon. The alabaster mare was experiencing a similar set of aches to the drake, wanting to fill and be filled all at once. Unable to voice her appreciation for such sensations, she decided to show Spike instead with a full mouth kiss as her eyes closed.

Eyes closed, Spike hummed his contentment into Rarity’s mouth. Her lips had a subtle sweetness to them, not like the blast of sugar he got from kissing Pinkie. Rarity’s flavor was, of course, as refined as she was, and he parted his lips to play with hers. Though his tail was still held in place, Spike could no longer deny his hands and wrapped his arms around Rarity, pulling them close. He was careful of her quaff as his claws ran through its silken threads, tenderly scratching at her scalp in that way all ponies seemed to love. Then, when her lips also parted, Spike was greeted by her domineering tongue barging its way in and claiming his mouth as its own. He offered only a token resistance, likening his actions to that of a dance as his forked taster encircled and embraced her broad flat organ.

Rarity parted from the kiss, opening her eyes to spy a thin strand of saliva bridging their lips. The strand grew thinner the further she drew away from him until it finally snapped. He giggled at the mundane occurrence and she did the same. She took one last step back and finally released his tail. “Well then, Spikey-wikey. You’re free. What will you-”

Spike didn’t even wait for Rarity to finish before he dove under her legs. He embraced her elongated appendage like a long absent friend. Its surface was smooth and hot against his chest and cheek and he stayed like that for a second, just taking it all in. He sniffed, shuddering as the aroma of futa musk did the impossible and increased his arousal beyond what it already was. Then his arms started moving. Mindful of his sharp claws, his little hands began massaging along the surface of her pristine, porcelain white cock. He found her medial ring almost immediately, his touch causing Rarity to spasm atop him.

“Now, now, Spike,” she warned, mindful to keep her balance. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. Remember your manners.”

Spike giggled. “Always finish inside unless they ask otherwise,” he recited with a hint of annoyance. As if he could ever forget something so obvious. A slight growl from his belly further reminded him of what was right and he pulled away. He eyed the flat of Rarity’s futa cock, the tip already drooling with clear precum. Unable to hold himself back further, Spike momentarily forgot his manners and opened wide, stuffing as much of the mare’s fifth leg in his mouth as possible.

“Th-there’s a good boy, Spikey-wikey,” Rarity encouraged. Peeking out of the corner of her eye and recalling their audience, she gave a dignified and prideful smile, lifting her chin high in the image of a true alpha mare. A fore hoof was placed to the back of Spike’s head, gently stroking his scalp rather than forcing him further. She trusted him to know what to do. “You’re quite the little expert, darling. By all means, take your time. Remember that this is just as much for you as I.”

Spike hummed gratefully, glad that he was allowed to go at his own pace and just enjoy himself. The hot piece of meat was truly a treat for his tongue, almost as delightful as its owner’s lips. Once he was satisfied with his current mouthful, he pushed further down, feeling the flat head push past his uvula and down his throat. There was no gag reflex. His throat had been well trained to accept any cock with grace. He didn’t even notice a stifling of his air way. There was only the pleasant sensation of swallowing the delicious piece of meat, tantalizing his taste buds and stretching out his throat in ways that a life with Twilight had taught him to appreciate. And then he reached her medial ring.

“Molestia’s teats!” Rarity swore in a most unladylike manner. Spike was mercilessly attacking the line of sensitive flesh with his lips. His period of experimentation was brief as he quickly zeroed in on the spots that elicited the strongest reactions. “Wh-when did you get so good?”

Giggling around his mouthful, Spike glanced up to spy Rarity’s plump and perky teats dangling mere inches from his face. Grinning deviously, he reached up and poked a claw at the very edge of her areola, making Rarity suck in air through her teeth. He then began to draw around the mare’s pink nipple until the faint indent of a six sided star was left behind.

“Twilight. Of course,” Rarity hissed again. “I should have known.”

“You really *hic* should’ve,” agreed Berry. Her outburst was rewarded by having the dragon dick vibrator turned up four levels. She made an excited whinny, dropped her bottle, and quickly lost herself to the sensation, laughing like a fool all the while.

“Any other commentary from the peanut gallery?” Rarity asked in warning, to which the rest of her audience fervently shook their heads. “Smart.” She returned her attention where it belonged as Spike had swallowed her medial ring, massaging it with his throat instead of his tongue. Now his nose was less than an inch from the base. One hand had stayed on her teat to mold it and play with her nipple while the other hand found its way to her balls, doing much the same. At some point, Rarity found that she’d started thrusting. “Oh fuck yes, Spike. Your throat is such a wonderful sex hole. Nnngh! I’m so close.”

He could feel it, too. Rarity’s shaft was twitching, pulsing with imminent climax. This encouraged Spike to redouble his attack. He tried bobbing his head upon her shaft, but could only go so far before he could no longer use his hands on her other parts. So he contented himself to slow, shallow bobs, using his entire esophagus to stimulate her magical stiffness. Though he couldn’t quite reach her pussy, he switched his ball fondling hand to join in teat fondling, knowing that Rarity was more sensitive there. She’d appreciate that, and he appreciated the soft give beneath his claws as he kneaded her flesh. That was when Rarity let out a deep, guttural groan. Spike felt the swelling of the shaft through his mouth and down his throat, followed by a sudden engorging of his belly as hot syrupy cum was deposited directly into his stomach. Rarity held Spike’s head firmly in place as she rode out her orgasm. He let her, loving the feeling of a filled belly.

This went on for several seconds with Spike’s throat expanding like a willful swallow each time Rarity pumped more semen directly into his belly, making him swell. Once she’d finished, Rarity slowly extricated herself from the drake’s gullet. She lingered a bit at the end to allow her head to leak its last spurts of semen directly onto Spike’s tongue. It filled her with pride hearing his wordless hums as he savored the treat she’d generously left for him. Studying him, it appeared that the drake had just swallowed an entire gallon of ice cream, swelling his middle and making it slosh when he moved too much. This state would be short lived as her semen would be digested quickly, yet Spike seemed perfectly content with his well-deserved treat. However, that was when a rather devious idea struck the mare and she decided to see what all the fuss was about. She seized the drake in her magic and pressed his snoot to hers, forced his mouth open with her tongue, and took a sample. “Hmm.”

Spike’s draconic greed was outraged. How dare this mare try and steal my treasure? Well, she wasn’t going to get it without a fight. Spike put his all in his tongue and seized the viscous nectar back from Rarity. Yet she guarded her stolen goods with equal greed, wrestling his tongue down so that she could take it back. Back and forth they went, swapping spit and sweet futa cum. Spike wasn’t sure when he’d wrapped his arms around Rarity’s neck, or how this would help him hold onto his rightfully won treasure, but it felt like the right thing to do. It was nice to hold the mare, and she wrapped a foreleg around his back to hold him equally close as they passionately sucked face. In the end, Spike won out, swallowing the last of Rarity’s seed before pulling away with a smirk of triumph.

“Don’t get cocky,” Rarity warned, glowering at the little drake in her grasp.

“Hehe. Yeah, that’s your job, right?”

Pretending not to be amused, Rarity huffed indignantly and slammed Spike hard to the futon, making his slightly smaller belly jiggle like a water balloon. The bedding cushioned the impact splendidly, but a point needed to be made. “I have been much too tolerant of that disrespectful little mouth of yours.”

“Disrespectful?” Spike asked incredulously. “That’s not what it sounded like a few seconds ago.”

Incensed, Rarity stomped over to Spike, planting her hooves to either side of his hips and staring down at him with a hard glare. “I said I was going to show you my feelings, Spikey-wikey,” she said in a way that made Spike’s blood run cold. “And while I am truly fond of you, I also feel that my precious toys need to show proper reverence to their mistress.”

“Of sexy evil?”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, good.”

Author's Note

I got a little carried away with this part and may have recycled a script from something already written but yet to be published. Anyway, it wouldn't be Rarity without a bit of drama, heroism, and some mild sadism.