Sucking in a breath, Beatrix Belladonna stepped from the shimmering bluish-white portal, met with the crunch of grass under her heeled boots. These rose to her upper thighs, her figure bound in a high-cut leotard, fingerless gloves that rose to her upper arms, a cape held by a stylized eye-shaped trinket called the Prima Materia, and most importantly her wide-brimmed and pointed witch hat, like the rest of her dark purple costume decorated by the cosmos like the coat of an Ursa Minor.
A violet hand swished back platinum locks tinged by a similar shade to match her bright eyes. She inhaled the familiar scents of soil and pine carried on the breeze, tried to steady her heart.
She often returned to her home Equestria between adventures, so why was she suddenly so nervous? Did she really abandon her mother and leave her alone, like she suspected?
“I'll make up for that,” she swore with a shake of her fist. Thankfully the rift she'd cut between realities deposited the traveler close to her destination. Parked in the middle of a forest's clearing was Trixie's wagon.
Slowly she approached, climbed the small set of stairs, and knocked. After several tries no one answered, and she stole a peek through a window, saw that the table and hammock were empty.
For a moment she was tempted to slip in and wait for her, but instead she decided to take a look around, thankful her hat helped shade her from the afternoon sun.
“Wait, that's...?” She spotted footsteps in the dirt a short ways away and followed the path. Following the steps, a couple minutes later she arrived at a pond, the crystalline waters shimmering under the sunlight under a soft blue sky.
And within the waters she spotted her mother, who aside from the color scheme was her twin, down to her luscious curves.
Water droplets beaded and rolled down Trixie's supple flesh, her eyes closed when she hummed, submerged barely past her knees, mane wet and arms raised above her like she posed for an unseen audience.
A tear-shaped drop clung to an erect, perky nipple, fell from it and splashed on the pond's surface with a soft tinkle. She glistened with feminine beauty.
“Ahem.” Beatrix cleared her throat and her mom yelped with a splash. “Uh, sorry to startle you!”
“Beatrix?! Come on in, my little hellspawn, the water's nice and warm!” She smirked at her, wide eyes warm.
Beatrix tittered, stripped, and chucked aside her clothes. She waded into the pond, let it envelope her knee-deep, scooped up handfuls of water and splashed it over herself. “Nice indeed. Sorry it's been a while since I returned. Sometimes I lose track of time.” More splashes sound when she wandered over, until they were face-to-face.
“Oh, don't worry about it. I've been fine.” Yet despite her pride a certain forlorn expression betrayed her. With the loss of Shining Armor who'd fathered their daughter, and the times Starlight Glimmer wished to take her own trip, she'd been alone for a while. She took her daughter's hands, squeezed them like she was afraid she'd leave her far too soon.
Guilt gnawed at Beatrix's heart. “Hey, I plan to stick around a while. If that's okay? Wouldn't want to butt in uninvited, but I noticed Starlight Glimmer wasn't with you like usual, and figured maybe I could bunk with you for a time?”
“Yes! I'd like that very much! Er, I mean the Great and Powerful Trixie's magnificence is doubled when the famous mother-daughter team puts on their show. I have an idea for my next performance, and you're just in time to help!” She booped her nose. “We'll talk it over, after we bathe. I'll fix you lunch and we'll be able to catch up on old times!”
She chuckled and returned her smirk. “I'd like that.” She drew more water, ran her palms down her mother's smooth skin topped by a thin, velvety layer of blue fur. They shared laughter, Trixie doing the same, kneading her ample flesh which parted under her delicate fingers and the brush of nails.
At least now maybe she could make up for her absence?
*****
Despite her reservations Beatrix knew that when her mother set her mind on something, it was nigh impossible to deter her. So when she'd shared her idea over a meal, and placed a black tome before her, her heart had skipped a beat. “Relax,” her mom had said. “It's a fake! Just a novelty item I purchased from a shady dealer on my travels for a fair share of bits.”
Her palm trembled when she'd traced the ebony cover. It wasn't unlike the grimoire her mentor, Sombra, had once used to research the dark arts. It had set him down a path he'd almost failed to recover from. “I don't know about this. I mean, I understand wanting to revive a tradition with a Nightmare Night celebration, but why press our luck?”
“What, do you expect a Tantabus to pop out of it? We're the famous mother-daughter team! We have this under control!” To punctuate that she'd slapped another heaping helping of butter and syrup on their fluffy pancakes, because with her mom anytime might as well be breakfast. It figured, since she slept odds hours and was often on the road.
So a couple days later their show was set to begin. It would commence at the 'witching hour', the pale moon permanently scarred by Luna's visage in a silhouette, forever sealed inside by the Cult of the Nemesis, much like her sister Celestia trapped in the sun. However the creatures of Equestria survived and continued to thrive, the cultists driven to extinction.
Choosing a small, unnamed, and out-of-the-way settlement, she helped her mother lay out the stage, wrapped in their aura to move its weight. The villa around them was decorated with props to denote the holiday, ghoulish baubles that were usually more silly than threatening. A few fake skeletons swung on gnarled tree limbs, caught in a low, eerie wind that swept through.
Beatrix shivered at the ominous sound. “It's just a book...isn't it?” She thumbed through the prop, skimmed a few passages. None of the spells were familiar to her. Shrugging, she shut it and placed it back on the stand.
Maybe her run-ins with the Necronomicon had made her too paranoid. Who could blame her, with the state of the world?
Thankfully, her mother had decided on an 'adults only celebration'. Nothing too kinky, but she didn't want to worry about any possible young ones in attendance, and so they were free to cut loose with all the dangerous, sexy stunts they wished!
The sun began to dip below the horizon and the moon climbed into view. A sea of stars glittered in the black ocean. The streets began to fill with people, and her ears flicked at the crunch of yellowed and browned leaves. Market stalls hawked their wares, and Beatrix nibbled on a handful of candy, reminded of her own youth spent with her mother.
“Almost time,” called Trixie who popped her head through the curtains.
“Okay, mom!” This would be the testing grounds. Pull this off on a small scale and they would carry this tour on elsewhere, until Nightmare Night was celebrated all over again! Her heart fluttered with a giddy glee.
Over the next hour Beatrix collected bits of the patrons in a heavy jar with a clink. Soon their show was sold out, the area before the stage packed with a mob who waited with baited breath for the show to begin. Behind the curtains, she and her mother talked about their routine one last time, which they had thoroughly rehearsed to the last detail.
But if there's one thing her mother had taught her, it was too never be too rigid, that they could always improvise if needed!
Spotlights fell on the stage. The curtains parted, a sparkly miasma rolled out, and the shapely silhouettes of Trixie and Beatrix appeared in them, emerging with an ample sway of their hips and a bounce of their breasts, hand-in-hand when they marched out in their usual costumes. Fireworks exploded above them with a scream, their snouts drawn in wide smiles.
“Welcome,” announced the pair. “To the Greatest show in Equestria, by the most Powerful mother-and-daughter team, Trixie Lulamoon and Beatrix Belladonna!” They struck a bold pose for the crowd, who clapped and cheered in a thunderous roar.
“We have a dangerous...” Trixie whipped out a hidden knife under her sleeve and twirled it.
“And sexy...” Beatrix turned so that she looked over her shoulder, pushed aside her cape, and slapped her own rump.
“Presentation to put on for our wonderful patrons,” the pair finished as one with a spin. A flick of her wrist and Trixie's knife vanished, and from more dense clouds of colorful mist appeared a heavy treasure chest surrounded by varied props.
For the next hour it went on without a hitch. The moon was enshrouded in black clouds, and started to turn blood red with the witching hour, but few in attendance noticed this strange phenomenon, focused on the joy the performers brought them. It was a time to dance and feast and laugh, to forget all their troubles and lose themselves in the moment.
The duo went through their usual routines. Sword-swallowing, fire-breathing, knife-juggling, escaping certain doom from a padlocked water tank, all aided by their illusion magic to ensure their safety. Thankfully her mother minimized any real danger, every precaution taken, meticulous in their preparation despite their pride, and the crowd ate up every second of their show.
Between sessions the pair stripped an item at a time. Hats, capes, gloves, and boots were removed, down to leotards that clung to them like a second skin that waited to be shed. Water glistened and dripped from their curves.
Sharing a look, they weaved a fresh spell, wrapped their costumes in their magic, and allowed it to eat away their shiny garments, the crow cheering when they were left in nothing more than heart-shaped pasties over their nipples and a matched one over their vulvae.
“Hmmm,” announced Trixie with a tap of her cheek. “Do we go all the way, sweet daughter?”
Beatrix tilted her ear to the crowd with a hand clasped to it. “What do you say, people? Do you wish to see us naked?” Claps and whoops sounded, drowned out all else, and the area itself shook under the eager uproar.
They knew how to play the masses and supply what they wanted. Neither noticed the black book start to shimmer and hum in resonance with the blood moon, its dormant power activated, the words in its pages now shining and a blackish goo oozing out. Mother-and-daughter struck a dramatic pose, arms upraised with smirks, and twinkled their fingers which sparkled.
The last vestiges of modesty dissipated, nipples exposed and erect in the cool breeze, tight snatches and plush asses bared. Jeers sounded and fireworks erupted with fresh pops, showering the duo in prismatic colors that made their wet flesh shine.
By now the onlookers struggled to control themselves, whistling and punching the air. Invigorated by the cursed moon, and feeding off the lust of the customers, the book stirred with life, and with it the abomination long sealed and forgotten in its depths. Passed around, the original purpose forgotten, its last owner believed it nothing more than a novelty item.
The grimoire flipped open with a rustle. A nest of tentacles arose, jutted out with watery slaps, each inky tendril layered in puffy moist suckers that oozed. These hungry forces of nature were drawn to the performers and zipped towards them. “What the-” The rubbery extensions seized their ankles and yanked them upside-down. “Yikes,” cried Beatrix, wide-eyed.
“Get away freak,” cried Trixie who swung in its hold. “Let us go!”
“Use your magic,” cried Beatrix who flared her horn and attempted to work a spell with her. The tentacles wrapped around their horns, stroked them, and they blushed with unwanted whimpers, their magic snuffed out in a cloud of sparkles.
“D-damn,” whined Lulamoon, each stroke of their horn she imagined akin to a sensuous, sloppy blowjob.
Helpless, more extensions bound their wrists and drew them taut. Slime dribbled from the tips, landed with a cool splash on their supple skin, slid down their curvaceous forms which now appeared to be heavily oiled and slick.
Worse still, their natural lubrication dripped from their slits, teased by the constant strokes of their horns. More of the invaders circled their milky tits, squished and squeezed them, flicked their nipples and made circles around their areola.
“U-unhand us this insta-umph?!” Trixie was shut up the moment one plunged into her open lips down her throat.
“Mom,” cried Beatrix who watched the crowd panic out of her eye's corner. Thankfully she recognized this sort of summons, knew that the abomination would eventually burn itself out, if they were able to sate its primal lust. Likewise, the radius it emanated with its silhouette didn't reach beyond the stage, so at least the onlookers would be safe!
“Uh, i-it's all part of the show! Yeah!” She did her best to console the mob, and with their anxieties quelled their lust redoubled with the debauchery before them, fed the famished eldritch beast who continued to explore its hapless prey.
Held aloft, a tentacle pushed its way into Beatrix's throat, and she winked at her mom to clam her down. More tendrils crawled up their wide thighs, coiled around them, wiggled into their moist, sticky pussies, the pink canals spread wide in loud squelches. The tips burrowed into their cervices, slid into their slimy wombs, stuffed them full as they wound themselves about.
The first orgasm crashed over them and they shut their eyes tight, squirted sprays over their violators. Their cunts contracted, milked the aliens, whose suckers wrapped around their swollen clits and spongy g-spots to noisily suckle them.
Far from satisfied, more tendrils pushed at the pink rings of their assholes, and plunged into their depths. Another climax struck them, made them shudder with unspeakable pleasure, their wetness dribbling down the tentacles.
The creature hammered into them without relent. Drawn into an unnatural stupor by the lewd show, unable to hold back anymore, the stallions and mares began to openly masturbate. Their musk filled the air, discarding their clothes and descending into a shameless orgy, under a spell radiated by creature which lowered their inhibitions to nil and bolstered their libido and stamina. Howls and whinnies sounded, flesh slapped and smacked, the scent of perspiration mixed with that of sexual fluids.
Nonetheless the mother-daughter team were too focused on the savage pounding they received. Triple-penetrated by the monstrosity, they were suspended, wrists released as more tentacles pressed their way. Nodding at her mother to follow her lead, realizing what it wanted, she took one of the loose tendrils in each hand and started to stroke them.
They bobbed their heads, sucked off the invader still lodged in their gullets, slathered it in saliva. Their was a wiggle inside their twats and rectums, and they quivered under the impact of each brutal thrust.
Feeding on the crowd's lust, the tips reshaped themselves into massive stallion cocks, flared and beaded with viscous precum that dripped out in thick white globs.
A salty, tangy spray fired down their throats, ballooned up their cheeks, settled into their bellies and sloshed. More emptied themselves in their hands, onto their faces and forced them to shut their eyes that were painted in massive spurts of spunk, their wombs flooded into they swelled out like they were heavily impregnated, their bowels away in showers of splooge.
More dicks slapped their cheeks, tits, and asses with audible whacks, fresh cascades loosed in repeated volleys that hosed the senselessly fucked duo down, having lost count of the multiple orgasms they had been forced to endure over the last hour. Their minds dulled with sheer pleasure, their senses momentarily numbed with over stimulation, barely able to bear any more.
The tentacles withdrew from their mouths, running over with cum they practically vomited out, lips glazed in excess that slid and dangled from their chins. Their mouths were pried open, horsecock tips aimed at them, pulsing in preparation.
Realizing what they wanted, Beatrix stuck her tongue and Trixie followed, taking repeated thick blasts to the face that coated their already soaked tongues, matting their hair, sticking to their gums and between their teeth, clinging to the tops of their mouths.
Dicks plopped on their heads, rested on their snouts and made them stare cross-eyed, spanked their cheeks, tits, buttocks, and pussies. Semen was smeared over their flesh, more smacking and cumming all over them in a display of dominance.
The night wore on, and the tentacle continually fucked them into exhaustion, in a variety of positions, impaled and left to wiggle like worms on a hook, unable to do more than twitch and mewl as they came more messy spatters over each other. The tendrils pressed them tit-to-tit, connected mouth-to-mouth and pussy-to-pussy by dense tendrils that had detached themselves.
And when it bored of that, they were flipped over and pressed ass-to-ass, buttocks smacking each time they were skewered and stretched. Their wrecked fuckholes clenched around them, suckled at them, eager to swallow more of their virile seed.
Beatrix wasn't sure if it was the most pleasant dream she'd ever had, or a nightmare, empty save for the boundless bliss they endured without relent.
Hours flashed by in what felt like forever, and yet also mere moments, until the moon finally started to dip and the sun rise with a new dawn. A shriek sounded from the abomination which sizzled under the sun's light.
Within moments it let out a primal, alien scream, dissolved into blackened vapors that vanished into the wind, and the book slammed shut. Beatrix and Trixie collapsed with a thud, stomachs swollen to ludicrous proportions with cum oozing out of gaped funholes, and a cocktail of semen and mare juices pooled out, birth by the thoroughly bred broodmares.
Zombie-like in their trance, the mob collapsed of exhaustion. To them the surreal experience would seem like a mass hallucination they would never speak of, as Beatrix and Trixie would bathe and dress them with a little help from their magic before they awakened, thankful that contraceptive potions were easily concocted with a little alchemy.
Their glistening bosoms heaved. Chirps sounded from birds that wheeled about under a soft blue sky that started to break. Beatrix reclined next to her mother and squeezed her hand and whispered, “Quite a show, huh?”
“A success indeed. Next time I won't meddle with stuff I don't fully understand,” she admitted with a grin.
“Hey, it worked out. No one's hurt and we made a ton of money, plus they loved it.” Neither could rise from the slime that coated them, their fur and flesh utterly soaked and their nose unable to inhale anything but the reek of sex.
She turned and planted a peck on her cheek. “Glad you came to visit, my little hellspawn. You're always an adventure!”
“Maybe something a little more low key for our next venue, though!” Certain they would be sore for the next few days, the show must go on, as this was merely the initial step on their tour.
United, no one could match the famed mother-daughter team! And despite what they had experienced, neither would stop until Nightmare Night was celebrated world-wide!
