It’s quiet, once Doublemint leaves. Dash hears Twilight shifting on the bed, panting slightly. But Twilight doesn’t say anything. Is Dash supposed to leave too?

After a few moments, Dash works up some nerve.

“Twilight?” Dash asks. “Uh . . . ”

Twilight doesn’t look injured, per se. That guard probably couldn’t hurt her if he’d tried. But it’s still difficult to look at her. She’s red in the face, panting. Her wings are splayed out, feathers torn and scattered atop the bed and over the edge. Her mane and tail are tangled, hairs at all angles. It’s like the crater some overzealous rookie might leave on his first day at the academy.

“ . . . are you okay?”

Twilight nods, still staring at the ceiling. Her head is where her hooves ought to be. “Yes. I’m a little sore, but that’s normal.”

“Can I . . . help you clean up?” Dash offers. Watching that stallion come all over Twilight was pretty fucking hot, but for some reason, Twilight covered in cum afterwards is less so.

Twilight shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine. Spirit will be here in a few moments. Oh, he’s a guard, too, but he’s nice. You’ll like him. He’s a Pegasus, actually.”

“Oh, yeah. You told me. That’s, uh. Neat.”

Silence for a few moments. Dash gulps and approaches the bed. Wonders what she’s supposed to say now. Does she just continue on like normal? Talk about the latest Daring Do book, and pretend not to picture stallions railing her through the mattress? Even if she leaves right now, sooner or later Rainbow Dash will cross paths with Twilight again. Dash wonders, absently, what small talk is like now.

On the floor beside Twilight’s bedside table is a framed picture and a pair of what Dash guesses are pulp adventure novels, yellowed with age. She puts the books back and reaches for the picture. Unicorn Twilight smiles back at her, standing in front of some tourist trap, surrounded by her family and positively beaming. She sets it down.

Twilight looks at her, her expression neutral. She looks tired, for sure. Like she’d like nothing more than to fall asleep. “Are you mad at me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dash almost blurts out No, of course not. She hates being mad at her friends. But instead she rubs her forehead, winces, then says, “You know what? Yeah. And not just about the weather thing. That’s—Fuck. That’s a whole other thing. But what the fuck? You just let them fuck you like some whore? Why?”

“I am a whore—”

“Stop saying that!” Dash says.

Twilight rolls away and says, “If you’re just gonna yell at me, you can leave.”

“Hey!” Dash snaps, stomping up onto the bed. She grabs Twilight’s shoulder and rolls her back, forces her to look up at Dash. “Don’t just—”

Dash freezes. Twilight’s still sticky with cum. She’s looking up at Dash with a mixture of fear and anger and excitement. Her face is just inches away from Dash’s. And with her wings splayed out and with her hair messy and fanned out around her head like a halo—

If she wants to be a whore, then Dash could just hold her down and fuck her like one.

“ . . . Don’t just ignore me,” Dash finally growls, trying to keep her voice even. “I stayed put when you asked. I behaved. Now it’s your turn.”

Twilight nods.

“They weren’t just rumors, were they?”

Twilight shakes her head no. “At least, their rumors are true.”

“So you were lying. You pretended to be all surprised and shocked.”

“I tried to tell you I didn’t care—”

“No, you told me to let it go. Fuck, Twilight. If you’d just told me they weren’t lying about you—”

Twilight scoffs. “You wouldn’t’ve believed me.”

“—but instead you pretended like nothing’s wrong, like there’s no problem, like I’m the idiot for even caring about it in the first place. Like this is my fucking fault! And not only that,” Dash rushes to say, when Twilight opens her mouth to interject, “but that guard said you threaten them and yell at them and insult them? And apparently you’re fucking them, and—and—”

Twilight stares up at her, panting. Dash can’t blame her. Her own heart is racing. Yelling at her friends tends to do that to her. Twilight waits a moment, then licks her lips. “And?” she prods. “Say it.”

“And you’re cheating on Spirit? Tell me you’re not that fucking disloyal. Tell me that’s not true!”

“It’s not true.”

“You’re lying! This isn’t how you’re supposed to act! You’re not Twilight! No!” Dash yells, waving her hoof. “You don’t cheat on ponies, or fuck your guards, or—or—”

“—or try to seduce my best friend?” Twilight asks, reaching up to touch Dash’s shoulder.

Dash slaps her hoof away. “Yeah! That’s not what you do. That’s not you!” she shouts.

“Maybe you just don’t know me that well.”

“Stop trying to make me mad!” Rainbow snarls.

Twilight lifts her head up. “Why not? What are you gonna do about it?” she taunts, breathing on Dash’s face.

Motherfucker. Twilight’s trying to goad Dash. Trying to bait Dash into proving Twilight right. And it’s working.

Twilight doesn’t stop. “Are you gonna try and talk this out, like a friend? Try to get to the root of the problem and help me grow as an individual? That’s the reasonable thing to do. If we were friends, you’d feel sorry for me and empathize and dismiss my actions as a cry for help. Right?” She shifts her weight, bringing her face closer. Somehow she’s managed to press herself up against Dash without her noticing. “Twilight’s lonely, and hates being a Princess, and needs her friends, but she doesn’t know how to ask, so she goes overboard just to get their attention. She’s desperate for help, and nothing’s more reasonable than helping your friends. Right? But I’m not your friend, apparently. You don’t have to be reasonable.”

Twilight licks her cheek.

Dash freezes, staring at the spot on the pillow where Twilight was just a moment ago. She hadn’t noticed how much of Twilight’s body is pressed against her, hadn’t noticed herself moving closer and closer until Dash can practically feel Twilight’s racing heart under her warm, fuzzy chest. Her leg is pressing between Twilight’s, squeezed in place right up against her pussy. She inhales and tries to back up, but Twilight holds her in place with the easy strength of an Earth Pony. A familiar weight sinks in her gut. She feels it every time she plummets towards the ground in front of a crowd. It’s not just weightlessness and nausea, not just watching control of the situation slip from her grasp, even as the stakes climb higher and higher. It’s watching disaster approaching at the speed of sound, certain and unstoppable. It’s knowing that she could pull up, that she should pull up, but she won’t. It’s the blurring between fear and excitement—and, she realizes with a painful gulp, it’s the blurring between anger and arousal. She doesn’t want to lose her friend, but—

“You can get mad at me, Dashie. You can punish me,” Twilight whispers, as inevitable as the ground. “You can fuck me.”

Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Dash stomps on Twilight’s chest and shoves her down into the bed, glares at her, then dips her head and presses her lips to Twilight’s.

Twilight groans and wraps her forelegs around Dash’s shoulders, pulling Dash’s body atop hers, squeezing cum between them. She opens her mouth, inviting Dash to explore. Her tongue is hot and wet and tastes like Doublemint. Dash inhales her bad breath and wipes at the saliva drooling down her chin.

“Dash—” Twilight pants between kisses. “I know you’re mad—”

“Shut up,” Dash snarls into her mouth. “Just—Ungh—Just shut up.” She bites Twilight’s chin and licks her cheek and sucks her neck. “Don’t fucking talk when I’m—” Shit, is she really gonna do this? “—when I’m fucking you.”

“Finally,” Twilight breathes, grabbing at Dash and pulling her close.

Dash can feel Twilight’s heart hammering inside her ribcage. Or maybe her own. Dash kisses her again and settles her body into every curve and slope of Twilight’s, like two storm fronts colliding. Chest to chest. Hindlegs all tangled. Wings flaring and slapping the bed. Twilight’s pussy, hot and wet, on her thigh. Somewhere in the back of Dash’s mind is the realization that the night is flat spinning out of control.

“Fuck, Twilight. You really want ponies to treat you like a whore? You want me to treat you like a whore?”

Twilight nods.

“You want me to fuck you whenever I want?”

Twilight gulps, then nods. “The Apples do. Rarity does. Everypony does.”

“Your brother, and Princess Cadance too, right?” Dash asks. Her mind, usually slow on the uptake, spins with absurd possibilities. “Can I fuck them? While you watch?”

“If they let you.”

Dash shudders. “When we’re out with friends, I can just pull you aside and molest you? Right in front of them?”

“Do you want to molest me?” Twilight asks, arching her back.

Dash shudders. Yes, she really does. Sweet Princess, this mare is beautiful. Her wings are larger than Dash’s, and even ruffled and worn they look amazing. Her body is all sleek lines and soft curves that Dash wants to trace and feel and explore—that Dash wants to exploit and use and show off as belonging to herself.

Dash ducks her head and nuzzles Twilight’s chest fluff, nibbles around Twilight’s navel, and licks her way down to Twilight’s crotch.

“What else?” she asks, then leans in and licks Twilight’s pussy.

Twilight gasps. Her hooves grab Dash’s mane and press her face against her crotch. “Wake me up in the middle of the night. Or when I’m reading. Or working. My Guards will let you in. You can—Ah!—sit on my face. Or hump my body. Tease me. Leave me on the edge—”

Dash pokes her tongue inside Twilight’s snatch, tastes her again. Makes her cry out.

“Don’t let me sleep. Don’t let me leave my bedroom. Just fuck me. Come all over me. Whenever you want.”

Dash groans.

“Or you can kiss me. Bite my wings. Pull my tail. Suck my horn—Ah!—while the others watch. Make me squeal in front of our friends, Dash. Oh, fuck. So—Ah! Ahhh! Rainbow!”

Twilight clamps her thighs around Dash’s head and shoves her cunt into Dash’s face. A squirt of juices splashes across Dash’s lips and over her tongue. Delicious. Dash swallows all of it and keeps searching for more, drawing out what she suspects is a small orgasm.

Twilight slumps, panting. Her legs flop to the sides. She’s covered in sweat and saliva, and hairs from her tail are stuck all over her abdomen and crotch. Dash pulls back, feeling a burn in her cheeks, all the way up to the tips of her ears. She can’t get enough of this mare.

Dash slides her body up and licks the drool on Twilight’s chin, imagining it’s the messy leftovers from some of her guards. “I wanted to kiss you,” Dash pants. “When you had. That mouthful of cum. So badly.”

“Then do it next time.”

“Do you often have. Mouthfuls of cum?”

“More often than you do,” Twilight taunts.

“When?” Dash presses.

“Huh?”

Panting, Dash props herself up and searches Twilight’s face. “When—when is there room for this whole other you? Does anypony else know? How—”

“Dash.” Twilight touches a hoof to Dash’s mouth. “Not now. Please.”

Dash clenches her eyes shut and looks away. “Fine. Just—shut up.”

“You’re the one who keeps asking questions,” Twilight says, grinding her hips into Dash’s.

“Because none of this makes any sense!”

Twilight drops her hoof and looks away. Dash keeps grinding herself on Twilight’s thigh, and only notices after a few moments that Twilight has stopped.

“Really?” Twilight asks, finally, closing her eyes. “Even after all that?”

Dash shakes her head, stunned.

Silence stretches out between them.

Twilight sighs. “Dash—”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Argh!” Dash snarls and glares over her shoulder at this intrusion. “What?!”

Twilight ignites her horn, sizzling the door unlocked. “Come in.”

The door opens. Another Castle Guard enters, this one a younger Pegasus stallion.

“Again?” Dash seethes, wiping her mouth with a hoof. “Fuck! Get out of here!” She reaches blindly for a cushion and throws it at this intruder. It flops harmlessly to the floor.

Twilight closes the door behind him and sizzles it locked. “Dash,” she says quietly, reaching up to touch Dash’s cheek, “this is Spirit. He’s my stallionfriend.”

Stallionfriend?!

Dash leaps back like she’s been burned. “Oh, fuck, dude, I wasn’t—” she stammers, waving her hooves and nearly falling backwards onto the floor.

Spirit takes in the scene—the messed up sheets, a sticky, panting Twilight, and a panicking Rainbow Dash, who is also sticky—without saying a word. He unclips his helmet and begins undressing. For a whole minute Dash sits frozen, hiding behind her hooves and silently freaking out, as he carefully removes his armor and sets it aside in a neat pile.

Spirit walks right past Dash and approaches Twilight, just like Doublemint did. Dash bristles, but Spirit merely lifts Twilight up onto his back like she’s a pillow—

“Mmm. Thank you, dear.”

—and carries her into the ensuite bathroom.

Dash buries her face in her hooves and rolls onto her back. That one gesture was a punch to the gut. What the fuck was she doing? She’s not some drunk, horny colt. She’s better than that. She knew Twilight was seeing a pony. That’s the whole fucking point!

Panting, feeling like she should yell some more, she looks up at the unlocked window. Her wings rustle. She should just leave. Fly away, go home, fuck herself raw, then pass out before the shakes get too bad. Maybe try to forget this whole night even happened.

“Dash,” Twilight calls out from her ensuite. Dash can hear water splashing and towels rustling, but Twilight says over all of that, “Come say hi to Spirit. I want you to meet him.”

Dash exhales, then stares at that window for a moment or two more. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside, Spirit is helping Twilight clean the cum off her body. It’s stuck in her coat, clinging to her mane—there’s even some in her feathers, which Dash knows from personal experience is a real pain to clean out, and seriously fuck anypony who comes in a Pegasus’s wings.

“Um. Hi.” Dash waves awkwardly.

Spirit nods in her direction while he rubs a hot washcloth over Twilight’s face. “Sir.”

“Just. Just Dash is fine. Thanks.”

Twilight grimaces and grouses like a foal who doesn’t care about being clean.

Dash looks away and rubs the back of her neck. “So, um. I’m sorry. For kissing your, uh. For kissing Twilight. And, uh. The other stuff.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Twilight grunts, twisting her face under his washcloth so she can speak. “It’s—Stop it!—not the first time.”

Spirit nods again.

“The other guard called you Boot.”

This elicits a tiny smile. He says, “Everypony in the Castle Guard gets a nickname eventually.”

“Oh.” It sounds like an awful nickname, but what does she know? “You’re dating?”

Twilight and Spirit answer at the same time:

“No, not really.”

“Yes. For a couple weeks now.”

“Oh.”

This is not how she imagined meeting Twilight’s special somepony. Twilight should have invited her over for drinks or something, and introduced him with a blush. Dash should be teasing Twilight and hitting on her stallion. She should be laughing and smirking and telling him embarrassing stories about Twilight. He should be hinting at how freaky Twilight really is, while Twilight evaporates slowly.

Instead Dash is the blushing, embarrassed, shy pony. When did that happen?

“I heard that you,” Twilight says, poking Spirit in the shoulder, “were kissing boys downstairs.”

Spirit freezes, startled. He glances at Dash, eyes wide, and stammers, “Uh, that’s not—I mean—”

Twilight rolls her eyes and looks at Dash. “I usually try not to concern myself with what my guards are getting up to, but I hear rumors too,” she says with a smile. “Who were they? Are you seeing them? Are they cute?”

Spirit clears his throat, blushing a little. “You haven’t been downstairs lately.”

“Tell me.”

Spirit winces. “Doublemint and Flamingo. They’re—not ugly. I guess. Doublemint was just in here, I think, and, uh, Flamingo—well, you definitely know him. He humps anything with four legs. Don’t let anypony you care about near him. And, no. I’m not seeing them.” He says this last bit like he’s just tasted something foul.

“Are you sore?” she teases, rubbing his haunch. “I bet you’re sore.”

“N—No, it’s not, uh—”

Twilight giggles, and brushes her wing across his.

Is Dash supposed to leave? Twilight’s a mess and Dash isn’t sure she’s supposed to see this, but they didn’t ask her to leave. They don’t look uncomfortable, and neither are the type to forget their surroundings. They’re casually chatting about—Dash listens for a moment—about how both of them have sucked some stallion’s cock, and what this Lux filly is getting up to. They clearly don’t care that Dash is listening, and it’s far less filthy than what she just watched, but it’s still awkward . . .

Oh. Dash gets it. It’s awkward because Dash has intruded on a genuinely intimate moment between two ponies. Spirit isn’t worshipping the ground she walks on, and he certainly isn’t here just to fuck a Princess. And Twilight doesn’t see him as another meathead either. They’re just ponies to each other. They make each other smile. Somehow.

This isn’t some gross, shameful foul-up between two bickering partners. Dash is intruding on a moment.

Sweet Celestia.

For all she might claim otherwise, Twilight might just be falling in love.

Dash backs out of the bathroom, sits on Twilight’s bed and stares at the wall. She listens to Twilight tease the poor stallion, and wonders just when Twilight raced so far ahead.

Eventually Twilight plods back into her bedroom and climbs onto her bed, flopping onto the pillows again.

“I’m really, really sorry, Twilight,” Dash blurts out, before she can stop herself. “I didn’t think—”

“You thought I didn’t care about sex.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” She pulls over a pillow that hasn’t been gutted and sits back against it. “It’s obvious. You talk about stallions all the time, but not with me. You never ask me for help when you’re dealing with a problem. You never brag about how great getting fucked by so-and-so was, or how dirty you feel after hooking up with somepony. None of you do. A couple days ago you and Pinkie actually hushed each other when you saw me approaching. You didn’t think for a second that I might want to join in. Do you know how isolating that is?”

“But—”

“But nothing. You wanted to break into the Castle and find me in the middle of the night. Well, guess what you interrupted?” Twilight asks.

Even after everything else, it still takes a moment for Twilight’s implication to sink in. “Oh. I thought . . . ” Dash trails off, but Twilight just waits and eventually Dash admits, “I thought you were exercising.”

She looks at her hooves. She feels stupid just saying so.

“Exercising.”

“Yeah. You know—cardio?”

Twilight snorts. “Cardio? You thought—Oh, Dash,” she sighs. “Do you see what I mean?”

Dash nods.

“Hey.” Twilight pokes Dash’s shoulder. “It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? I mean, I was exercising, if you think about it.”

It is kinda funny. “So, is that it? You just want us to talk about sex with you?”

“No, Dash,” she says, glancing over as Spirit approaches. “I want you to treat me like an adult. Not a child. I fuck. I like to get fucked. I have fetishes and desires like anypony else and enough shame to fill this whole castle. There are ponies I hate needing and ponies that hate me back. I want—”

Spirit climbs atop the bed and settles beside Twilight, face unreadable.

Twilight bites her lip, looks away for a second, before taking a deep breath. “I want to be your friend again. And I want to kiss you.”

Dash jerks back, glancing at Spirit for a moment. “What?”

“Dash . . . ” Twilight whispers, looking up at her, blushing. Eyes wide. Face glowing. Hoof held out, partway, like she’s afraid to touch Dash but desperately wants to. She’s so vulnerable, even with Spirit right there, and she wants Dash, of all ponies, to give her companionship. The brash, proud, relationships-are-for-wimps Rainbow Dash. “Will you kiss me, Rainbow Dash?”

Dash gulps, but she is brave, and Twilight is soft and warm, and Alicornhood really, really agrees with her.

It’s a little strange—bordering on unsettling—kissing Twilight in front of her lover. Dash keeps glancing up at Spirit, then glancing away when he makes eye contact. He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t say anything. Just watches. Dash has had sex in front of others before. What Wonderbolt hasn’t? And yet—

And Twilight is not the sort of pony that kisses ponies. Maybe on the forehead before tucking them in. Not tilting her head, tasting Dash’s tongue, or whimpering like a distressed critter. Not sucking face. Just like she never has sex and doesn’t think about stallions or mares and is probably asexual, right?

But kissing Twilight at all just feels . . . right. She tastes so alive. So gentle. About as sexual as she could be. It’s so much better when they’re not fighting one another. Twilight moves with Dash, absorbs Dash’s enthusiasm and returns it, follows her lead while taking her own.

Right when Dash thinks she’s about to run out of air, Twilight pulls back, Dash’s lower lip bitten between her teeth for a moment. A thick strand of saliva connects them before splashing onto Twilight’s chin. While Dash tries not to freak out, Twilight smiles at her, face aglow. Then she turns her head, looks Spirit in the eyes, and embraces him.

The stallion sinks into Twilight’s kiss. His wings spread, knocking against Dash’s. He shifts his weight and shoves up against her. Not pushing her out of the way, of course. This stallion isn’t the kind to assert himself. And Dash doesn’t really know how he feels about all of this. But he’s hot, and Dash is so, so turned on, and he doesn’t complain when Dash presses against him and nuzzles his neck and rubs his stomach. She reaches around him and holds him close, and when he pulls back to breathe Dash kisses his cheek, then his lips.

For all that he may pretend to be some professional, aloof Castle Guard who only cares about serving Her Highness, he makes the most adorable, vulnerable whimpers as Dash explores him.

The little voice telling her this is wrong is still there, albeit quieter. “Dude. Are you sure about this?” she asks Spirit.

Twilight answers for him. “I thought you were a Pegasus, Dashie. Can’t you recognize the signs of an aroused Pegasus stallion yet?” She smiles. “Or is this your first time? Oh, Dash. I had no idea.”

“Fuck you!” she laughs. “I know all about horny Pegasi.”

“Tell me.”

Dash exhales. She really only has to describe her own symptoms. “Um. Flushed face. Fast heartbeat. Stress. Difficulty breathing. Wings out. Tail flicking. And . . . ”

“And?” Twilight prods.

Dash gulps and slides her hoof down Spirit’s side, underneath his body.

Spirit grunts and leans to the side, lifts his leg in the air to give her better access.

“And—Sweet Celestia, his cock.” She grabs his cock and holds him still, squeezing gently until she hears that whimper. He’s very hard. She slides her hoof all the way to the tip. It reaches damned near all the way to his sternum, hot and thick and throbbing.

He snorts, his jaw clenched shut, and pushes his hips forward, shoves his cock through her grip. She starts stroking him slowly, listening to every little noise he makes.

“What about it?” Twilight asks in a whisper, watching with wide eyes as Dash pleasures her lover.

“It’s a nice cock. Very, uh. Very firm.”

“It is,” Twilight sighs, reaching down and touching Dash’s hoof, helping her stroke him at just the right pace with just the right force. He thrusts into their hooves, eyes clenched shut, snorting. His tail slaps against the bed, his wings splayed wide. If they don’t stop soon this Pegasus’s nice, very firm cock is going to explode all over her hoof and his stomach and the bed. Does he come a lot? If he fucks her, will his guard training and endurance and raw stamina conspire to wreck Dash from the inside? He’s a Pegasus. Dash knows what one Pegasus can do to another.

Dash can only guess what an Alicorn and a Pegasus get up to.

Twilight strokes his chest and asks Dash, “Do you want to fuck him?” Like she can read Dash’s mind. “Together? He’s really quite lovely. We can take turns. I think it’ll make him really happy. Oh!” Her grin transforms into something more devious. “Or . . . ”

She unclips the little green choker she’s been wearing all night and passes it to Dash. Spirit sees it then looks away, face unreadable.

“ . . . maybe you want him and me to fuck you?” Twilight asks.

Dash looks down at the bit of fabric in her hoof. It’s stained with cum, even though Doublemint never got any on her neck tonight. She gulps again. Her mouth was dry just a moment ago, so thirsty; now she’s drowning in saliva. Drowning in Twilight. It’s too much.

“Uh . . . ” she says, her voice catching and her hoof shaking. She glances at the window, then behind them at the door. If she was going to bolt, now would be the time. “Uh . . . ”

Twilight smiles. “Boot, help her clip it on.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He takes the little green choker and reaches past Dash, like he’s just going for a fatherly hug, except of course for the drooling cock grinding against Dash’s stomach. His nose almost touches hers as he fiddles with the little catch. Dash barely has time to yelp, then it’s done. It’s tight, and gets tighter when she tries to swallow another mouthful of spit. Dash, used to the open skies and not used to wearing fuck-me collars, is trapped.

“It looks good on you,” Twilight says, leaning close. “I like the color.” She brushes her lips past Dash’s ear and breathes, “Just the right shade of permission. Boot,” she says, looking up, “help me fuck her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Spirit grabs her.

“No, wait—” Dash exclaims, waving her hooves and trying to squirm free. She barely knows this pony. What if they’re too much? This stallion will only stop when Twilight tells him to.

“I want you, Dashie,” Twilight whispers. “Don’t be scared. We’ll make your first time special.” Twilight ignites her horn. The illumination of her horn casts menacing shadows over her face. She professes to be one of Dash’s best friends but apparently Dash barely knows her either.

They loom over her, blocking Dash’s view of the door and the window. Dash feels the bed pitch beneath her, then suddenly she’s on her back. Somepony grabs her hooves and presses them back against the bed with a strength that could have come from a thoroughbred stallion. She squeezes her legs together but another pony reaches between them and spreads them apart without hesitation, exposing her privates to yet another stranger tonight and leaving her breathless—turns out they both have enough easy strength to dominate her.

She’s helpless and more than a little scared, feelings she’ll never get used to, not when she’s plummeting towards the ground and especially not when she’s underneath a stallion or hanging with a friend. But no matter how embarrassed or claustrophobic or overwhelmed she feels, Dash is even more afraid of trying to stop her. Twilight may be the only pony who can push Dash to her limits.

So when Spirit crawls up and crouches over her head and presses his cock against her lips, Dash kisses the tip, licks and slurps up the underside of his shaft, lets him rub his sack against her face. She waits for his order then opens her mouth and lets him in. His cock shoves right into her throat, burns hot, and leaks runny precum like a faucet. Stretches her choker even tighter. He grabs hooffuls of her mane and holds her in place. In moments she’s kissing his crotch over and over.

And when Twilight slides down her body, licking and kissing and drooling a line from her navel to her groin to her slit, Dash groans and thrusts her hips up, willing Twilight to stop fucking around and start eating her out. Twilight really knows her way around a pussy, and—Sweet fucking Celestia, a Princess is eating Dash’s cunt.

And soon it’s too late to say no. Dash doesn’t surrender, exactly, but she does clench her eyes shut and grip the sheets and try not to fucking die. In the end, it amounts to the same thing. Twilight and her guard don’t stop. As they pass her back and forth and use her like their plaything, all Dash can do is hold on. They don’t tease her. They fuck her, like animals, for hours, stopping only long enough to shove her into different positions. Like she’s furniture that squeals itself hoarse when it comes. Spirit humps her backside and fucks her cunt, makes her come. Twilight crawls over Dash and bites her neck, leaving a new cutie mark. Spirit wraps her wing around his cock and jerks himself off, coming thick ropes of spunk all over her feathers. Twilight shoves her tongue in Dash’s ass and gropes her cunt and pulls her tail, makes her come. They hang her head off the edge of the bed so Spirit can fuck her throat and splatter cum on her face and neck and chest. Twilight restrains her with magic so she can hump her face and squirt in her mouth. Spirit comes in her ass then shoves his cock in her mouth. Twilight grinds on her spine and bites the back of her neck and comes on her tail. Dash comes with Spirit fellating her hoof and again with Twilight choking her neck. She can’t keep track of the mouths and cocks and orgasms. The two lovers work as a team and methodically drown her in saliva and magic and cum, and as they kiss each other and nuzzle each other and whisper sweet murmuring things to each other all Dash can do is squeal and choke and beg and drool and come and come and come—

Dash declines Twilight’s languid, drowsy offer to stay the night, but she’s an unstable flightless hot mess right now, so Twilight orders Spirit to help her home. He leads Dash down the stairs and through the Castle’s main hall. He’s perfectly alert and rested, like the marathon of sex didn’t really happen. Dash knows for a fact that it did, is still feeling the consequences. Hormones and chemicals shimmer in her blood, making everything a little bit weird. The residue of magic makes her tingle. They couldn’t quite get all the cum out of her feathers—seriously, fuck him. She’s walking slowly, partly out of shock and partly because her legs still won’t stop quivering. She can feel aches that will be a real pain tomorrow. And she needs a shower. A long shower.

The other ’Bolts would be so jealous.

The silence is particularly awkward. Dash is no stranger to a shameful trip home after a one-night stand. But her nights are never this shameful and she’s never walked home with the stallion before.

“Is . . . is it always like that?” Dash asks, finally able to break the silence. She looks at the fancy stained glass windows, unable to make eye contact with Spirit—how could she, after what she let him do to her?

Spirit also looks straight ahead, and hesitates with his answer. “No . . . but lately she’s been more and more frustrated and scared. Her new Factory is already behind schedule and over budget. She often turns to sex to help her relax.”

They’d left Twilight as a drooling, melting pile of satisfied feathers with a smoking horn, snuggled deep in her blankets. She’d looked very relaxed.

“Oh.” Librarian Twilight also had poor coping strategies for dealing with stress. But her stresses stemmed from friendship problems and late homework assignments. And she used to confide in Dash and the rest of their little band of heroes, though sometimes it took a little prodding. Princess Twilight’s stresses are caused by actual problems with actual risks that could affect actual ponies, and nopony ever finds out. Dash doesn’t envy Twilight’s responsibilities one bit—excepting maybe those concerning Ponyville’s weather.

When she was little, Rainbow Dash dreamed of being a Weather Marshal. Probably every Cloudsdale Pegasus does at some point. Weather Marshals are heroes that dictate the course of history. Dash can rattle off the names of the last ten Marshals without having to stop and think. Once she’d dreamt of having her own name in that list.

But becoming Ponyville’s lead Cloud Sculptor is only the first step on a long road towards becoming a Marshal. She would be Ponyville’s first, sure. And it’s good work. But there’s no fame or glory in running a small provincial Weather Factory, and she would be beset by opposition from all sides. She would have to fight for every sunny day. Ponyville isn’t Cloudsdale, isn’t resourceful or pragmatic or downright devious like Cloudsdale is.

None of that means Dash couldn’t do it. She could run the fuck out of a Factory, and better than some punk kid could.

Dash stops in the front lobby and looks around. “Can you take me to the barracks?” she asks Spirit.

Spirit nods. “Follow me.” He leads her down some stairs. There’s a heavy wooden door at the end of a long hallway, with two Castle Guards standing watch. Spirit ducks inside, leaving Dash to glare at the meathead statue impersonators in front of her.

Several minutes pass. When Spirit emerges he has a bleary-eyed Pegasus filly in tow. Dash’s eyelids climb under her mane. This is the one Twilight’s guards have been fucking? No way.

Lux winces under the ceiling lamp and rubs her eyes. “Mmm? Twilight?” She sniffs and peers at Dash through squinting eyelids. “What’s going on? What did I do?”

Dash feels as tired and as disoriented as Lux looks. She crouches in front of the filly and waits for her to open her eyes properly. “Heya, Lux. I’m Rainbow Dash.”

“What?” Lux gasps, perking up, her eyes open wide now. “Sweet Sisters, it is you. Whoa.” She steps right up in Dash’s personal space and peers over her, gawking at her cutie marks and her mane and even poking her chest at one point. “That is so cool. Hey, are you still a Wonderbolt? Oh, wait—do you know Prince-marshal Harrier? Oh. Oh, wait. Wait! Can you do a Sonic Rainboom?”

“Uh—”

“Not in here, obviously,” Lux says.

One of the guards standing watch behind her keeps glancing at her rump.

Dash sighs, then looks at Spirit. “Can you grab her things?”

Spirit ducks back inside. Now the guards look upset. Fuck ’em. Doublemint was probably lying about what goes on in there, or at least exaggerating, but still—she looks like she’s half their age.

“What’s going on?” Lux asks, yawning. “Can I go back to bed? I’m gonna lose my bed.”

“I’m taking you home. Twilight never should’ve brought you here.”

“What? No! I don’t want to go home. I like it here! The guards take care of me. I’m learning so much about being an adult and living with roommates and taking on responsibility. And Princess Twilight says I’m gonna be a Weather Marshal one day!”

“Lux—”

“You can’t make me!” Lux stomps her hoof, thrusts out her chest, and tries to stare down Rainbow Dash.

Dash exhales, questioning whether this punk kid is really worth it.

“I meant my home. There’s a spare bed. And hurry up. It’s late, I’m fucking exhausted, and there’s lots to do.”

Author's Note

The End

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