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                     A New Day Breaks                      
               -by shortskirtsandexplosions-               
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                          Fuchsia                          
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Author's Note
https://camo.fimfiction.net/reLL87WASan1l4dxyosKltGbpA5WupNROlj6bWZexJU?url=https%3A%2F%2Fderpicdn.net%2Fimg%2Fview%2F2019%2F9%2F1%2F2133275.gif
Fantasy, erotic or otherwise, involves a certain degree of disassociation from reality. All smut fics are therefore inevitable experiments in the suspension of one's disbelief.
I consider this story no exception. In fact, the biggest reason I bothered to start writing this is because—in my head, at least—the setting and environment establishes a ridiculously clear-cut scenario where everyone is older than eighteen and engaging in completely consensual activities, as afforded by in-world safety measures put in place. For me, the characters in this story are extra safe, at least compared to my other literotica ventures, and somehow that makes it all waaaaaay more appealing to me.
But that doesn't change the fact that—at the end of the day—it's the subjective digestion of the reader that makes the real difference. Rest assured: there is indeed naughty naughty stuff in this story. There's an age gap. There's dubiously-consensual roleplaying angles. There's seduction. It's a goofy stretch to label any or all of this absolutely "wholesome."
For what it's worth, I'd like to state that this fic comes from a place of pure wish fulfillment. Not just of the very (extremely) niche fetish kind, but just the plain and simple old-as-time delight one might get from meeting someone whom they know has—beyond the shadow of a doubt—an insatiable infatuation with oneself. It's this energy that's carried me forward, slapping 40k+ words of sauciness when instead I should be writing the latest installment (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/373584/ofolrodi) of my Austraeoh saga on Imploding Colon (https://www.fimfiction.net/user/32973/Imploding+Colon).
Will it have been worth it? Eh... I don't think so. My history of NSFW stories on this site don't exactly prophesy a positive reception. Even the bold choice of making this SS&E's Fic #200 won't change that. In truth, I'm a bit more concerned about the fic getting ban-hammer'd because of its cover art (lulz), which is a shame because the artpiece is a lovely commission drawn by the uber-talented Xan-gelx (https://derpibooru.org/search?q=artist%3Axan-gelx%2C+safe), and I consider the masterpiece he drew (per my specifications) to be the prime inspiration for this fic. Here's hoping the text contained within this story does his creativity justice, while it can.
As of this initial upload, there are four chapters. I grinded them out with much obsessive difficulty over the course of three weeks, and I would like to thank the likes of Shallow15, Syntakitty, Propmaster, and Nekojackun for helping me limp through it. I aggressively rambled about this story ceaselessly to them (and others) for nights on end, and I attribute my sanity to their patience and loving-kindness in weathering my digital!heavy!breathing. The story is not meant to end here, but rather to carry on in innumerable chapters, fleshing out the week of the "Indulgence Getaway" for Flash Sentry and Celestia. Right now, I look forward to the opportunities I've given myself here, because this is the biggest dive I've made into full moist-moist naughty smuttimes thus far. You think the exposition of this chapter is stupidly long, go and take a look at some of Coin Purse's monstrosities. F'naaaa.
One more thing I like to state, and it's kinda sorta borderline spoiler territory, but important to address nonetheless: this fic goes out of its way to use extremely convenient plot contrivances in establishing that the younger partner of this pairing was no younger than eighteen when the older partner first ever experienced erotic thoughts about them. The cosmic circumstances might be hard to believe, but fuq it. I want to play out a seduction fantasy, not promote gross real-life bullshit. One might think that such would be immediately obvious, given the cartoon essence of... essentially cartoon characters. But alas, here we are. Yes, I know. It's difficult to have nice things in a world where Syria's still being bombed.
But enough of life and all its maudlin miseries: go out there and cheer on Femme!Flash, marsupials. You know you (dun) wanna~  
-SS&E
P.S.: I listened to lots and lotssss of Elton John's Greatest Hits while writing this fic. I'm not entirely sure why...
Fuchsia
Flash Sentry could name two "sexual awakenings" in his lifetime. The first was when he learned how to jack off while in the shower. The second was when he discovered Fuchsia.
Fuchsia was mind-blowing, game-changing, and life-saving for Mr. Sentry. It took what was otherwise an ordinary young man with cloudy dreams and a mellow disposition and catapulted him into a life of felicity, euphoria, and an unimaginably wholesome relationship that was both erotic and amorous.
It is also what found him seated stiff and awkward inside a sterile little cubicle at the tender young age of nineteen, answering awkward questions for the umpteenth time being asked by a curly-haired middle-aged woman seated across from him at a desk piled up with state-of-the-art computer tech.
"Have you—at any point in the last three weeks—been outside of the country?"
"No, ma'am."
"Have you taken any new medications since you turned in your last two doctor's reports?"
"No, ma'am."
"Have you had any intimate relations, sexual encounters, or blood transfusions in the last forty-eight hours?"
"A-ahem..." Flash sat squarely in the chair with his hands planted nervously in his lap. He wore his standard casual flair: soft black hoodie and faded denim jeans. A thick backpack rested on one side of his chair and a large guitar case rested on the other side. "No, m-ma'am."
The woman's eyes lifted up from behind her glasses. Her fingers hovered still over her keyboard. "Please relax, Mr. Sentry. These questions are simply protocol, and not meant as any manner of judgment on behalf of Fuschia or the staff of Indulgence."
Flash gulped dryly and nodded. "Thank you, ma'am." His small-ish arms shifted in and out of the lengthy sleeves of the hoodie. "I appreciate the job you're doing."
"Hmmm. You're a polite one." She smiled warmly. "I believe you'll find many attending Indulgence who will find interest in that—one way or another."
Flash bit his lip and merely nodded.
The woman's fingers clacked away once again at the keyboard. The nametag on her blouse read Autumn Starlight, and she was remarkably warmer than the respresentatives whom Flash communicated with via phone or e-mail. It was refreshing to witness such friendliness, because it was part of what drew him towards Fuchsia's community to begin with. It's just that he had gotten so bogged down with the medical, financial, and legal hurdles of getting into Indulgence over the past few weeks that he had almost forgotten that the thole thing was meant to be about pleasure... and fun.
"Just another minute or two, Mr. Sentry, and I shall verify these last few parameters," Ms. Starlight stated. Her glasses reflected a rapidly scrolling program full of statistical documents. "Then we will finalize your profile and equip you with your wristbands."
"Th-thank you..." Flash exhaled. Somehow, the word "wristbands" sent his heart rate up a notch, and he started to tremble. Just beyond this cubicle—and the walls of the office beyond—was Indulgence. He was minutes away of stepping onto holy unholy ground. Hell, perhaps just seconds away. There had been so many weeks of convoluted preparation and now on the First Day of the Getaway everything was happening so damn fast. Flash knew he was ready—but somehow he didn't feel ready.
It helped Flash to keep things in historical perspective. So—in a bid to calm himself down—he closed his eyes and wandered back to the start of all this... ... ... which was simultaneously the end of all that. "That" being the childhood he once knew, and was about to kiss good bye forever.
It was barely a month after graduating from Canterlot High School when Flash Sentry discovered Fuchsia. The young man had afforded a "year off" between his senior graduation and entering college to "discover himself." Older mentors and parental figures in his life had suggested he make such a move, seeing as rushing things hadn't helped them find their careers any better.
The problem was—Flash didn't have the money to do much of anything special. So, he opted to explore his own neck of the woods, pursuing band gigs around town and in the surrounding counties. He thought that an education in musical studies might be his thing, but the truth is that Flash didn't have a passion for doing much of anything in his young life. Aside from getting off, of course.
T'was only natural. A man of Flash's age was reaching his sexual peak. But—unlike many of his peers—Flash didn't dabble in anyone else's private affairs... or privates. He knew several friends from high school who were quite sexually active. Everywhere he turned, a colleague or acquaintance from CHS was walking hand-in-hand with a significant other. Then one fellow band mate of his had a "pregnancy scare" with their girlfriend, which nearly brought their social lives to a screeching halt. While Flash would have liked to say that learning from these circumstances—or possessing a general scope of gentlemanly responsibility—was the real reason for him abstaining for so long, the simple truth was that Flash Sentry wasn't exactly virile, stud-on-the-prowl material.
As fate would have it, Flash was something of an early bloomer—or perhaps a never bloomer. Puberty evidently brought him to his physical limits at freshman year. As the next few seasons flittered by, everyone at Flash's age shot past him by astronomical units. This included the girls—Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, you name 'em—all of whom possessed at least a foot of height above Flash by senior year. Flash adapted as well as he could, but there was no denying the fact that his relatively unimpressive stature forced him to withdraw noticeably from the social scene. It was probably for the best; nobody got close enough to the young man to discover that his muscle mass, strength, and endowments were even less impressive.
So when Flash left the high school scene behind him and embarked upon the exciting wildlands of fresh young adulthood, he had a very flaccid spring board. He had stopped being a popular classroom name among his fellow graduates, and even the likes of Sunset and her friends saw him less and less, although not for lack of their trying. Flash fell under a bit of a funk—not so much depression, but a brooding stage of adult transitioning where he deeply contemplated just where his unexpectedly tender and petite self could fit into the humid grind of things.
But he wouldn't have to suffer for long. He found Fuchsia.
The discovery transpired quite miraculously, and even to the present day Flash long pondered over the butterfly ripple effect that led him down the path towards the most rapturous occasion of his young life.
It was a spam e-mail. Flash was almost certain of this, although he had no proof for himself to fall back on. He must have deleted the document as soon as it showed up on his inbox. But he remembered it a week or two later, because he had driven to a slightly seedier part of town to perform a wild rock gig with his friends and chanced upon a pamphlet slid under the windshield wiper of his car late at night. There—emblazoned in shiny chrome pink and purple font—was the same logo from the digital advertisement:
~o~ F U C H S I A ~o~
And—upon first glance—the essence of the advertisement was just as reprehensible on the surface as it was when Flash initially clicked the "delete" button. Fuchsia quite obviously was some sort of pornographic adult media program. Or maybe it was a social networking group. Or maybe it was a marketing scam. Or perhaps it was all of the above. Flash knew better than to indulge or humor such debauched things, and he had the good mind to toss the advertisement into the gutter out behind the nightclub where he and his bandmates were packing their things...
...when something made him pause—the first pause of his young life... and a portent of many... many pauses to come as he rode adulthood into oblivion.
Flash wasn't a child anymore.
He wasn't even a high schooler any longer, and even then he had turned eighteen a few months before donning (and tossing) the graduation cap.
Flash was young. Flash was free. And—as far as Flash and everyone who had known him could care—he was remarkably responsible and healthy for his age. Just what was stopping him from enjoying the pleasures of life that stardust had distilled him upon this earth to dabble in?
All things considered, it didn't have to involve Fuchsia. Nevertheless, Flash stealthily pocketed the pamphlet when his bandmates weren't looking, drove straight home, and hopped onto the web to expand his mind—among other things.
As he soon learned, Fuchsia was indeed a social networking group. However, it was exclusively Not Safe For Work in tone, and it facilitated tantalizing means for people ages eighteen and up to communicate, socialize, fraternize, and share lots and lots and lots of pictures—many of them below the waist. Flash had whizzed past many social media apps of this naughty nature before, but there was something about Fuchsia's design and mission statement that set it apart from the competition. This went far above the overall software design and accessbility—which were all excellent in their own right.
For one, there was a supreme no-bullshit policy to how Furchsia was run. Terms of Service infractions were punished severely, with ban hammers being slammed on anyone who so much as hinted at a slight at another user's kink, identity, or privacy. What's more, there was a heavily vetted application process that narrowed down the degree of applicants which made bots, griefers, and—yes—even stalkers next to impossible. At first, Flash assumed that this would have turned away most casual users, except for the fact that Fuchsia had one huge draw that made the network one of the fastest growing programs of its generation.
Fuchsia was more than just a sexy media application. It was a gateway to Indulgence.
What was Indulgence? Why, only the newest and most socially advanced sex resort of the modern age. Founded barely a decade ago by a small group of forward-thinking entrepreneurs, Indulgence made even the mainstream news for having an unbelievably clean and safe track record. Much of this was accomplished by a combination of a well-paid security staff along with a perfectly-integrated technological component. Everyone who attended Indulgence was registered into a network that took into account their interests, compatibilities, boundaries, and medical histories. This made it next to impossible for creepy or unhealthy applicants to participate in the ambrosia of the resort, and for those who did—they enjoyed very stimulating cross-compatibility experiments, courtesy of the network.
This network evolved and adapted very quickly, and would eventually be broadcasted publically across the 'Net as Fuchsia. Abiding by the same safety protocols, Fuchsia adopted a rapidly-growing base of open-minded users, the bulk of which leaned noticeably towards polyamory, bisexuality, and pansexuality. It was an erotic playground afficianado's dream "cum" true. The whole system was so perfect—as a matter of fact—that it had to have some sort of humongous catch.
Sure enough, there was one: it was really goddamn fucking expensive. Even the corporate owners of both Indulgence and Fuchsia made no attempt to hide it.
"We're pretty much offering the same kind of orgies that the one percenters enjoy."
The CEO had said once in an interview, smiling.
"Except—y'know—we're transparent and legal."
This same off-the-cuff bluntness was happily shared among the tongue-in-cheek users of the application, among which Flash was happily subscribed. He had no horrible track record to be ashamed of—viscerally or digitally—and, all things considered, he was a very well-behaved young man. Even when he was looking for ways to get naughty. He only ever joined the network for the network itself, and in so doing he achieved a wild sense of enlightenment.
Fuchsia—like so many of its contemporary competitors—featured a robust search engine with an accessible categorization system for users to swiftly group themselves among like-minded peers sharing like-meated kinks. Only—for whatever reason—Fuchsia's programming worked like a mother fucking laser beam aimed straight for the most erotic chakra within the mind's eye, and Flash soon discovered a cornacopia of content—contributed to daily by relatively well-rounded individuals—that appealed to every fetish he ever had, and then a quite a few more that he didn't know he had.
On his first night of browsing the groups of Fuchsia, Flash Sentry stumbled upon a gallery featuring artists' submissions of famous animated cartoon characters doing very... very lewd things. His eyes lingered on the more pink and pastel colors, and that led him to discovering an entire sub-group dedicated to the pornographic worship of Disney Princesses. To his mixed surprise, he soon found a chat room with other users to chew the fat with, and it was then that Flash realized he shared a thing or two (or three, four, five, six, infinity) with others of both same and opposite gender—his age and older—who long had a deep-seated love-boner for all things bright, shiny, petticoated, and wearing a tiara.
This—as it turns out—connected him with users who submitted pictures of themselves wearing extremely beautiful, extremely ornate, and extremely feminine clothing... ... ... even if not all the users identified as female. This did not so much awaken something inside of Flash—as much as it reminded him of several "awakenings" he experienced in his youth, where a pre, mid, and even post-puberty mind pondered the tantalizing prospects of crossdressing. Flash didn't realize until indulging in those multitudinous chat rooms aboard Fuchsia that he had enjoyed a remarkable number of feminizing fantasies during his youth, and now that he was an adult and his body had turned out to be considerably less "manly" than he anticipated as a child, he surmised that he could pass off the look as well as his digital contemporarys, if not better.
After two weeks of using Fuchsia, Flash had cerebrally ridden a parachute-lolita dress one million lace-embroidered miles down that pretty princess rabbit hole. In so doing, he had adopted a full tag-list of like minded categories to crown his profile page: including such gems as "sissification", "forced feminization," "petticoat punishment", "age play" and the list went on. Flash's world had gained multiple new horizons, and all of them pink. One might even say "fuchsia." The degree to which he found agreeable users and interrelated sub-groups was positively frightening, but he gobbled them all up—or let them all gobble him up—with wild abandon.
With one exception. There was still a line that Flash would never cross. If not for his own good, then for the sake of his wallet. And—in turn—his future. He would not pay Fuchsia a dime. Not to be a pro member. Not to be able to host his own sub-groups. Not even to participate in the digital beta for the experimental sex MMO Fuchsia Life.
And it hurt. Because—each and every evening that Flash would log on—his poor young eyes would be bombarded with advertisements for the sexual Getaway package at Indulgence. The world-famous sex resort only entertained visitors for a limited time—amount to a little over a week every few months. There was a major Getaway coming up, and—true to the nature of the industry—it cost an arm and a leg to get in. Maybe two each. But—it was Fuchsia, and Fuchsia spared no expense in making sure that all who attended Indulgence were equipped and safeguarded appropriately to have an orgasmic experience like no other. This was something only the lucky, the wealthy, and the entitled could participate in.
Which—all things considered—was absolutely fine. Flash was content to keep his participation within the community limited to the app himself. He had made plenty of friends (many with digital "benefits"). He had a regular sexy RP schedule. He even wrote and made songs to entertain fellow members of his chat rooms.
If nothing else, the sheer expense of the Getaways made life simpler for Flash. He never once had to even contemplate the impossible chance of him arriving at and participating in Indulgence.
"Okay, Mr. Flash," Autumn Starlight spoke up.
"!!!" Startled, Flash opened his eyes and gawked at the woman across the cubicle from him.
"One last technicality..." The woman swiveled a black tablet screen on hinges until it faced him and his chair. One swipe of her finger, and she brought up a screen full of scrolling text and legal material. "...we must get your thumbprint as a signature on this waiver. We kindly ask that you read all of the material in this document so that you may fully and completely understand the potential repercussions of venturing into an Indulgence Red Zone—even with the fully equipped staff of safety monitors on hand."
"I... uh..." Clearing his throat, Flash looked up at the woman. "I h-have no intention of going to a Red Zone."
Ms. Starlight put on a calm smile. "That may truly be the case, Mr. Sentry. However, all guests here at Indulgence are given access to all portions of the resort with exceptions of specifically-registered events. The fact remains that while you may not intend to visit a Red Zone, you still have the freedom to do so. And as such, we require all attendees to read, consider, and sign this waiver."
"Uhm... yes, ma'am." Flash scooted his chair forward to study the printed material. "I... uh... I'm sorry..."
She chuckled slightly. "Nothing to apologize for, sir. I know this is your first time—"
Flash's eyes jerked up at her.
"—at Indulgence," she naturally finished, then blinked at his alarmed expression.
Brushing his bangs back, Flash returned to the document. It was long, dense, and—in any other normal circumstance—incredibly sleep inducing. However, Flash's circulatory system was pumping out fresh waves of adrenaline. He digested the legalese to the best of his faculties and applied his thumbprint to the bottom of the page.
"Thank you very much." Ms. Starlight brought the panel back around, inputted the data into her computer, and returned to keyboard clacking. "That finalizes your enrollment process." She smirked, eyebrow raising. "You're permitted a breath of relief."
Flash inhaled and exhaled hard.
She chuckled again, lightly. "As you well know, your expenses have already been paid for by your co-party member. If I may get from you a quick confirmation—you are registered to be chaperoned by Fuchsia user: "Daybreaker". Is this correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And you are aware that your chaperone—Fuchsia user "Daybreaker"—has not currently remitted their anonymous status?"
Flash swallowed a lump down his throat. "Yes, ma'am."
"Do you have the means for meeting your chaperone on the resort grounds of Indulgence or do you wish us to provide you with one?"
"That will not be necessary," Flash said. "She... ... ...we have plans for meeting on the ground."
"Very well, Mr. Sentry." Autumn Starlight pressed a few more keys and swiveled in her chair to acquire some items from a sealed drawer. "Allow me a few seconds and I will assign you your armbands. Color?"
"... ... ...hmmm?"
"Do you prefer a color?"
Flash blinked. "Didn't... Daybreaker choose—?"
"The armbands are always customized by the user. Now, if you're thinking of the collar—"
"Right. Right." Flash slapped his palms against his knees. "I... uh... I-I forgot about that." He took a steadying breath. "P-Pink..."
"What was that?"
He spoke louder. "Pink, please."
A pleasant hum hovered in her throat. "I do believe I still have some in that color..."
Meanwhile, Flash's eyes lingered on ther computer screen... ... ...and the user name "Daybreaker" which was still flickering under the cursor's highlighting...
Fuchsia was fantastic. Fuchsia was amazing. Fuchsia was an eye-opening social media application that any young horny person would die for. But—despite all of the benefits and features of the program—Flash Sentry knew that he wouldn't be using it to this day... if it wasn't for Daybreaker.
Daybreaker...
To think that such a simple three-syllable word could hold so much resonance and gravity within the center of his being. Flash thought of that name when he went to bed. He yearned for it when he woke up. It lingered behind every tree, every road, and every door in his life. It was an omnipresent energy—a force—that injected the spring to his step and kept him bouncing forward from one platform in his life to the next. And most often with a smile. A smile he didn't have previously. Not before...
Daybreaker.
It was difficult to imagine surfing Fuchsia before Daybreaker. It was difficult to imagine existing before Daybreaker. But somewhere—in the dusty recesses of Flash's mind—he was once a lonely little soul trying to squeak his way into the social scene of multiple subgroups and chat rooms. He made a few acquaintances—a few horny homies with whom he brushed elbows—but very few whom he talked to on a daily basis.
He recalled feeling very bold in those early days of using Fuchsia. But also very shy at the same time. It was a paradox, but one that Flash could dabble in while remaining predominantly anonymous—and thus safe. His initial rabbit-holing upon the fertile plains of Fuchsia's fetish boards resulted in him getting a great deal more in touch with his "feminine" side... so to speak. The bulk of his blossoming "friends list" consisted of users who mostly posted on crossdressing and "sissy" groups. And being that Flash Sentry was a nubile young man living in the Golden Age of Internet Fembois... well... ... ... it didn't take him very long to look at himself standing naked before a mirror and realize:
"... ... ...well, dang, I would definitely cuddle me... ... ..."
This was divine truth. Tantamount to scripture. What Flash had initially perceived as shortcomings from a brutally short puberty turned out to be massive aids in the... not so massive art of effeminate modeling. He was petite, soft-skinned, and—if he carried his slight figure well—he had enough subtle curves to swing around. One weekend, he bit the bullet and bought an advanced shaving kit. He carefully and meticulously tackled his legs, his arms, and eventually his crotch—which turned out to be an adventure and a half (or quarter). The result in the mirror turned out to be... ... ...not too terribly disimilar from the glamorous and erection-inducing Adonisettes whom he had subscribed to on a few paywalled photo galleries. But that could very well have been a closeted narcissist drag queen dribbling out from deep within.
So... on an even wilder whim, Flash bit the next bullet. He wore a pair of young woman's briefs that he bought via Amazon and took a few selfies with his face cropped out. He then proceeded to upload these to his horniest of haunts on Fuchsia. What proceeded was twelve or so hours of restless nail-biting. But, much to his surprise...
...he got likes. And re-blogs. And comments. Positive comments—for it was indeed a very "positive" community. But the magnitude of appreciation far exceeded what he expected. There were even a few DMs Flash that received, chock-full of flirtatious propositions that were no doubt typed out by overweight neckbeards suffering nosebleeds... or so he imagined. But then, he received a message that stood out from all the rest.
A message from Fuchsia user "Daybreaker":
What a perfect little princess you are!~ A sissy body that pristine and delicate deserves better panties, though~ Here's a link to one of my favorite sub-groups: Bloomer Bois. I think you'll find some truly delicate pairs to dress your pretty dolly in~ Now, if you'll excuse me, I must spend the next few minutes crying into the corner. Because I know that nothing else I shall see in this life will ever quite be as beautiful as what you've just shared with us~
Love and sunshine, sweetness,
-Daybreaker
Even to this day, Flash felt a tender lump forming in his throat whenever he thought of that initial message—the first in a deluge of unfathomably heart-warming words. It was flirtatious—yes—but it didn't demand anything of the young man. It complimented, but it also lent assistance and good will. What's more—above all else—Daybreaker's words made Flash feel precious... and delicate... and unbelievably small—yet, in a special way. He felt more tender and treasured reading that paragraph than he did while lying back on a soft blanket in pink panties, taking a photo of his nearly naked self. He didn't bother replying to any of the other comments, but he did reply to Daybreaker's DM.
And praise the stars that he did...
What blossomed from that was an instant friendship. Daybreaker turned out to be very well-written, with an eloquent faculty of knowledge and vocabulary that put her well... well above the rest of the denizens of Fuchsia. At least in Flash's mind. Typing messages to Daybreaker felt like turning the page of a faerie tale book; every response given was gentle, heartfelt, imaginative, and—to an overwhelming degree—very... very "motherly" in tone.
From the very start of their personal chats, Daybreaker was quite keen on sharing advice on feminization, cosmetics, makeup, fashion—the entire sissy works. It didn't take long for the user to express themself identifying as female. Whether or not this matched their biological sex—Flash didn't ask... nor particularly cared. If he was using Fuchsia to explore his own feminity, he was happy to learn from anyone else who had done the same, regardless of where the chromosomes had initially split them.
And—sure enough—as the two continued to expand on each other's backstories and indulge in each other's personal fantasies, Flash found himself embarking upon a pansexual awakening. He discovered—and had always residually suspected—that he had an unsatiable admiration for male genitalia. He still mostly preferred women—especially above the waist—but there was something about the art of packing that men accomplished far better in his heartfelt appreciation. It was what he always focused on the most in pornographic content, and—for him, at least—it was always the important cherry on top when it came to femboi and sissy aesthetics.
But what it took for him to bring these... ... ... "meaty" details to the surface was chatting with Daybreaker and being exposed to her gentle socratic method. She was always hearing him out, commenting constructively on the feelings he had to share, and slowly—layer by layer—undressing the translucent cocoon that had long obstructed his proverbial closet door exit. It was because of her that Flash realized his tender feelings for a few of his old bandmates... and gym coaches... meant more than just toying fantasy. He discovered in hindsight that—as often as his heart and mind dwelled on the likes of Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle—he equally thought about Sunset's history tutor, Curly Winds, and Twilight Sparkle's older brother, Shining Armor. For every giggling smile and spot of cleavage, there was also a muscular chest and stubbled smolder lingering in the back of Flash's mind.
It wasn't long before Flash and Daybreaker engaged in long, elaborate, and wholly stimulating sexual role play. Via text, of course—for he was far too shy to do anything intimate over video chat, and Daybreaker was more than nice enough to respect that. What Flash soon discovered was that almost all fantasy situations involved both genders—or a nebulous blend of the two. While feminization played the biggest part of everything, there was almost always a male presence in addition to the feminine. Soon enough, it all started to blur together, and Flash was only mildly surprised to find out it made very little difference to him in the long run. Whether some element within a hypothetical situation possessed a womb or wielded something considerably more pendulous didn't ultimately matter. He enjoyed both to varying conceptual degrees, but in the end he was just content to have a soul—a spirit—to commune with at the end of all the moistness. Some essence to make him feel safe. A sapience in whom he could trust.
And every day and night—without fail—that soul turned out to be none other than Daybreaker. At the tail-end of every sex-textual escapade they enjoyed, there was inevitably a "coming down." A tender space in time dedicated to digital "aftercare," so to speak. And it was in those delicate little interludes that the most heartfelt words were shared. Daybreaker would take a moment to talk about the anxieties of the work week that were pressing upon her. Flash would speak about his uncertainty concerning his entire future. They mutually supported, encouraged, and assured each other—but there was no denying that it was Daybreaker who did the most for him. The scales simply tilted towards her court from the get-go. It became a quiet understanding between him. She was clearly much older than Flash, and she took it upon herself to act as a mentor. A teacher. A caretaker.
And it didn't take very long—or very much—for that relationship to tilt even further. Flash Sentry, the soft-spoken young man with a sissification fetish and a petite body perfect for the fit, very easily adopted the role of a submissive bottom. And Daybreaker—with her wisdom and elegance and confidence and firm control—was inescapably the soft but firm dom to match. He liked older, seasoned, nurturing souls with a mischievous edge. She liked young, impressionable, squeaky-clean personalities that stood to be both cuddled and corrupted. The two were like long-lost jigsaw puzzles, fitting together perfectly across the abstract lengths of the Internet. And while they both kept the specific details of their life mostly anonymous (and they both lacked "monogamous" as a tag under their profiles) they nevertheless communicated and communed with one another as if they had long ago sanctified some distant mail-order marriage. All that remained was to take the next step in their relationship.
Which Daybreaker did first—to some degree. She sent Flash Sentry headless selfies—much like the one he had uploaded which summoned her from the ether to begin with. Flash was blown away from what he saw. Daybreaker in real life was tall, majestic, mature, healthy, and well-manicured. There was a confidence in her physical poise that matched her intellect and whim to a T. It wasn't until a few minutes of gawking at her pics that Flash noticed that she had gorgeous breasts too. No penis, however. He was equally elated and depressed, and it made him giggle as he wrote out a joyfully complimentary reaction—one of many to follow in the ensuing weeks.
But it soon occurred to Flash that he was dealing with someone clearly out of his league—a veritable supermodel of a feminine specimen with a sexy saint's soul at the pilot's seat. The only reason he ever got to know her personally was because they met each other over an abstract social media platform. What were the odds that she'd approach a pitiful little pipsqueak like him in real life? Absolutely zero—Flash figured. And—upon a panicking whim—he found himself overcompensating in a desperate bid to keep their "relationship" in tact.
He shared a brand new slew of selfies—some even nude—but with the dynamic element of including his face this time. To his surprise—both perplexing and joyful—Daybreaker whole-heartily approved of the fully delectable content for her eyes to nibble on. True, she made a few suggestions on things the boi could do to improve his makeup and cosmetic skills, but the woman clearly wasn't turned off by his full reveal. In fact, she came across as even more ravenously dedicated to giving her full attention to the semi-bashful boi across cyberspace.
The only thing that was troubling was that Daybreaker didn't fully reciprocate. Which... was fine, fundamentally speaking. Flash had never asked her to share pictures of her face, or any pictures at all, for that matter. But—as the weeks went by—it was more than obvious that she wasn't about to reveal her face. She never made mention of it, and Flash was too scared to himself. He respected her too much to push the issue, and yet part of him wondered if she was hiding something specifically... and if he should be concerned over the matter.
Flash had indulged so much of his heart, soul, and penis into this online relationship within the span of a year. At the end of the day—yes—he was mostly attracted to Daybreaker's personality, eloquence, and kindness-of-heart. The possibility of a veritable Aphrodite of a woman being attached to that was certainly a plus, but Flash almost wished that neither of them had shared pics at all at this point. Because—if Daybreaker was indeed hiding some all-encompassing reality—then there was no telling just who or what was on the other end of the computer screen. And Flash Sentry was more scared of the depths he had thrown his vulnerable self down the well of uncertainty than he was of any frightening reveal of who or what Daybreaker truly was.
He detested himself for feeling so anxious, because his heart leapt more at Daybreaker's lovely words than they did to her digitally-captured mammaries. However, it was only human to desire order and contentment, and the boi reasoned that if another month went by and Daybreaker continued to play coy about their identity, then he would dare to make his issues known—for better or for worse.
He didn't have to wait a single day to contemplate this action, because Daybreaker—inexplicably and without being prompted—suggested that the two should meet up. And she didn't suggest that they meet at a Starbucks or at a city park or even at a cheap motel. No, Flash Sentry logged on one day to discover that Daybreaker had invited him to Indulgence.
Indulgence...
Flash Sentry actually laughed. He thought he knew Daybreaker better than to expect her to suggest such crazy and hyperbolic things. She was well aware of his uninspiring financial situation; he had shared enough of his life for the woman to realize he was far from the kind of opulent millionaire capable of affording a single day's stay at Indulgence, much less an entire Getaway package. All things considered, it was also too crazy a stretch for Daybreaker to have suddenly turned into a scam artist insisting that Flash pay for the two of them to get in, so his mind didn't even go there.
But Flash didn't even have the opportunity to scoff at the concept via text. He had barely given a reply when Daybreaker messaged him again, re-contextualizing the entire proposition. She wasn't suggesting that the two of them go to Indulgence on their own separate allowances. No, she was inviting Flash to go to Indulgence with her... ... ... in that Daybreaker was willing and able to pay for the two of them to go. She was simply asking the boi if he'd be open to the idea—and not because of the potential expense to his pocketbook. No, but rather an irrecoverable price of an entirely different sort:
Let's not frolic around the bush, princess. I want to claim you. Your heart, your soul, your virginity, your pretty little faerie butt. I want to open my pretty pink pet up like a doll on Christmas morning and share her with the rest of the world. And I can't think of a better place than Indulgence. It'll be lots of fun: you can saddle up to all the pussies and dicks that you want or just cling to me. Whatever you like, I will support, although I'll likely be doing a few rounds across the resort for myself while we're there too—it's been a while since this Momma's had some loving attention, and I'd love for you to join me this year. Think of it like a buffet, sweetie, to ready your palate for a full life of pleasures. And totally my treat. No pressure. You can say "no" if you like, but I'll be awfully sad and lonely if I'm there without my little princess to share it with this year. So, mull it over, 'kay, hun?
It was the proposition of a lifetime. Something a horny -year-old would die for. Hell, ascetic monks committed to a life of abstinence would foresake everything for the opportunity being given—freely. Daybreaker wasn't even suggesting a brief stint or a casual breeze-by. No, she was clearly setting the two of them up for the whole package: a week-long stay at the resort, with full access to the convention, the mansion, and the recreational grounds. She had booked them both a miniature cottage near the hiking trail—complete with all the luxurious ammenities. Something of this nature had to have cost somewhere in the hundreds of thousands of dollars—no—millions. It was too absurd a scale of lofty opulence to possibly be a prank, a joke, or a scam. Either Daybreaker was one of the richest people on the continent or she was secretly the President's daughter or perhaps both.
It wasn't until much later that Flash put more thought into the matter. Indulgence was one of the hardest institutions to land a membership in. Money aside, this had to have taken months of pre-planning to land tickets for two at one of the rentable cottages. For as casually as Daybreaker was making the offer, she very obviously had put a lot of meticulous work into arranging it far in advance. And now it was all resting upon Flash's next reaction, hovering entirely in his court.
Would he let her down? Would he let himself down? Honest to Goddess—there had to be a catch...
Presumably, Flash did know what the "catch" was. He and Daybreaker—through consistent sexting and fantastical RPing—had whittled down a very specific scenario for themselves, one which they committed to consistently in the spectrum of imagination, but always wanted to recreate in real life some day, hypothetically. She was the authoritative domme and he was the sissy pet, but they constructed this literally. If ever the two would meet, Flash would agree to a collar—a literal leesh that Daybreaker would affix to him. What would follow would be akin to a master-and-slave relationship, in the BDSM sense—yes—but a softer and cuddlier variant, with plenty of feminization coupled with bisexual hijinks. The two were explicitly aware of each other's boundaries. Flash knew that Daybreaker enjoyed a free and casual sex life of her own, and Daybreaker knew that Flash desired a constant source of cuddles and care. To that extent, they understood that—if ever they should meet—the two would likely practice open and polyamorous lifestyles, but always return to each other as Mistress and pet. The bed they dreamed of sharing was one of tender intimacy, a safe island of friendship in a sea of deviance and worldly pleasures. From this, Daybreaker would enjoy the contentment of control and possession. Meanwhile, Flash would exercise his sexual sea legs and find his place in the world. But there was no denying that—be it a fortnight or a century—the two would want to spend a lot of time together the very moment they met.
And that moment now had the opportunity to arrive. No longer would it be the thing of imagination. What's more—if their meeting took place at Indulgence—so many other things that existed purely in Flash's fantasies would also become concrete... complete... cum-plete(?). Tasting pussy, sucking dick, face-sitting, cowboi riding—all of the horniest of tags were now becoming actual check marks on tomorrow's bucket list, and the possibilities sent his mind reeling.
But... the catch. And, ultimately, it wasn't so much a catch as it was an anchor: Flash would be blissfully attached to Daybreaker. He'd wait on her wishes, hang on her words, cling to her breaths. This was understood between each typed word of her initial proposition. He would do the things that she'd tell him to do—even if it made him uncomfortable. Or especially if it made him uncomfortable, for Daybreaker had a sadistic streak to her, albeit soft and laced with spicy mischief. They had invented safe words for each other, even if Flash didn't initially have hope for actually using them in reality someday. Daybreaker knew that there was a shy masochist hidden deep within Flash—that he longed to be made to hurt and cry, so long as there was someone—namely her—to cuddle him and kiss his tears away in the end. Would something like that happen at Indulgence? Was he willing to go through so much discomfort and pain... for so much comfort and pleasure? He knew that Daybreaker would enjoy it—why else would she ask?
What if he disappointed her? What if none of his sexy selfies amounted to much in reality? What if he turned out to be a stick-in-the-mud little wuss who ruined all the money she was spending on their package deal? What if he only bogged her down and kept her from enjoying the erotic escapades she'd be better off doing entirely on her lonesome?
Then again—this proposition was made without Flash having seen her face. She was still hiding something... even as she gave the invite. No matter the financial bite on her end, what if this was gonna end up with a disconcerting reveal? What if Flash had a reason to detest the actual person that he met in the flesh? Would he be forced to service them, out of obligation over their digital commitments and the money and time invested into the meet-up?
Flash knew better than to expect Daybreaker to treat him like some store-bought boislut. Or... at least he thought he knew her better. She was doing the most generous thing an older potential-partner could ever do for a young and horny piece of manhood, and it was making his anxious mind second-guess the very nature of their relationship. That upset him more than anything, and so...
...he decided just to have faith in her. Flash chose to trust this woman who had enriched, blessed, and revolutionized his life over Fuchsia these past few months. Like the true submissive sissy he was, he surrendered himself to her. He'd gladly drive to Indulgence, put on her collar, and kneel and bow and crawl at her feet—because he knew that it would make his digital mistress happy. And if Daybreaker was happy—it meant that she'd make him happy. After all, she hadn't led him wrong thus far. He was willing to show that much faith and trust in her, and if she burned him for doing so—well—it was probably for the best that Flash learned the harshest lessons of life at age and not ninety.
Perhaps such confidence is what finally would "make him a man," even if that man was made to wear frills and high heels, knowing Daybreaker. Still, it was a great deal more steely confidence than he possessed less than a year ago.
And yet—he still trembled like a freezing kitten as he sat there at Autumn Starlight's cubicle, waiting for the wrist bands to be given to him.
"Alright, Mr. Sentry..." The office worker swiveled around in her chair, grasping three pastel bracelets. "Turns out we have enough pinks to go around." She chuckled lightly at herself, then scooted closer to the desk—and to him. "You will be required to wear three at all times while attending Indulgence. Don't worry—they're quite light and comfortable, and while you are not permitted to remove them, you can adjust the tightness. Think of them as cute pink bangles...!"
"Okay," he said, exhaling and nodding.
"This..." She held the thickest wristband of the group. "...goes on your right wrist. It lights up to represent your compatibility. But it doubles as a security measure." She pointed at separate knobs situated on the band. "Press them both—five times in quick succession—and the nearest guard will be alerted. Please only use it in the case of an emergency. Each guest is allowed a maximum of three false alarms before their attendance is remitted."
"I understand..."
"This band..." Ms. Starlight lifted a thinner bracelet. "...goes on your left wrist. It can be color-coded to suggest your boundaries. A quick review: white means 'do not touch me.' Blue means 'engage me first before touching.' Yellow means 'anyone can touch.' Green gives anyone full and complete control over one's body. And—of course—red means zero limits, and is only applicable in Red Zones. I know you've already stated how you feel about Red Allowance, Mr. Sentry, but it is your personal responsibility to avoid broadcasting the color through your wristband if you don't desire it."
"Right. Thank you for reminding me."
"You can only change the color of your bracelet's light at band stations. They are situated and marked clearly at multiple locations across the resort. As a reminder: Indulgence has a universal safe word that applies to the entire resort. It is broadcasted often on Fuchsia. Do you happen to know this safe word, Mr. Sentry?"
He nodded. "'Verdant,'" he stated. "It's... uhm... opposite the color wheel from fuchsia."
Ms. Starlight smiled. "Very good, Mr. Sentry. All guests are expected to pronounce the word 'Verdant' out loud when or if they desire a current activity to cease, or if they are feeling unbearable discomfort, or if they believe that someone is disregarding their boundaries or consent. Indulgence guards and observers are especially trained to listen for the word 'Verdant' at all posts. This applies to general adherence to the bands. If anyone is caught interacting with you in opposition to the behavioral allowance of your current color-code or if they are disregarding your use of the safe word, then they will face immediate ban from Indulgence. Also, should any of your wristbands break or be removed or be shut off—outside of use of any of the band stations—then a killswitch will immediately trigger security, much like the manual alarm switch described earlier."
"Okay..."
"And—of course, if you have a collar—that will be color-coded by your chaperone," Ms. Starlight explained. "But only with your express permission entered each time at the band station. You will both essentially be entering commands for the color code change at the same time, despite the chaperone's ownership of the collar. Do you understand?"
Flash gulped. "Yes'm." He nodded. "What's the third wristband for?"
"This..." She held the thinnest band yet, narrow bright pink. "...also goes on your left wrist. It indicates that you are under the age of twenty-one, and thus are prohibited from drinking alcohol or directly participating in alcohol-related activities. It was implemented this year—since it's the first year that Indulgence has lowered the minimum enrollment age to eighteen."
"I see..."
"Now, Mr. Sentry, if you can lean closer to the desk, I shall affix the wristbands to your arms. Don't worry—it won't hurt, and together we can adjust the tightness before going on to assign your boundary colors."
Nodding nervously, he drifted closer, offering his right arm first.
With careful, motherly movements, Ms. Starlight attached the band to his right arm. She adjusted it, reading his responses. Once he settled for a fit, she notched it down ever so slightly, allowing a smidge of looseness—which Flash found was ultimately most comfortable. She did the same with the other two bands. Once this was accomplished, she motioned him to bring the right band up to a computer sensor, directing him to look at a bright screen while he held the article to a blinking diode.
"Which of these descriptions best fit you during your stay here at Indulgence?" the worker asked.
Flash chose: "Interested in all genders."
Autumn Starlight typed away at the computer. There was a pleasant beeping sound, and Flash felt his wrist band vibrate briefly before flickering alive with a spectral sequence of pink, yellow, and blue.
"Now, your left hand. Yes. There—and if you would please choose your color code...?"
Flash hesitated briefly. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then gazed once again at the computer screen as he chose: "Yellow."
He half-expected Ms. Starlight to comment on his middle-ground choice. But—like a professional—she said nothing and simply inputted the command. There was a humming vibration, and Flash's pink wristband started glowing a pastel yellow. He could tell it'd be bright and visible, even in daylight. Not long after, the narrow band sharing the same wrist also glowed—but a dim pink to match the material of the bracelet.
"And there we go~" Autumn Starlight leaned back, folding her hands with a smile. "Congratulations, Mr. Sentry. You are now an official attendee of Indulgence. I hope that you and your chaperone enjoy your Getaway package."
"Thank you, ma'am." Flash stood up—slightly jittery now that he had these "permanent" bangles attached to him. "I appreciate all that you've done." He held his breath as he picked up his backpack and guitar case.
"It might interest you to know..." The woman spoke, stealing his attention one last time. "...that—at age nineteen and four months—you are also Indulgence's youngest attendee this year... not to mention Indulgence's youngest attendee ever in the history of the resort."
"Is..." Flash bit his lip. "...that a b-bad thing?"
Ms. Starlight laughed warmly. "No, sir. But... ... ... every year, there is a tradition at the resort to celebrate the youngest guest in attendance." She held up a hand. "It's not any sort of obligation of any sort and you are welcome to decline, but... ... ...it's nevertheless a very spirited element to the Getaway for all who attend. I felt that it was only fair for you to be informed of this before you step out onto the grounds."
"I see." Flash nodded with a gulp. "Thanks."
"Thank you, Mr. Sentry, and on behalf of Fuchsia, I hope you enjoy your stay." She smiled genuinely.
Flash soon left, shuffling down the crowded office of cubicles full of last-second attendees also getting registered. He quickly found security personnel who made eye contact with him. With reassuring smiles, they gently directed him down an adjacent hallway that led towards another hallway that led towards a spacious exit chamber. There, Flash could see several other guests—mostly young adults but a few seasoned guests—gathering with their bags of things while also sporting colorfully-lit wristbands. Several of them—much like Flash—flickered with the same pink-yellow-blue pattern. But there were some with orange-white-purple and black-white-gray and others sporting all the shades of the rainbow. Many of their left-bands were boldly-lit in green, but a few also had blues and yellows. At first, Flash nearly slipped by unnoticed, but he noticed a few guests pausing in their group conversations to gaze pointedly at him after seeing the second, thinner band on his left arm.
Nervous—and feeling decidedly small and frail—Flash made his way for the door. There, one of several Indulgence representatives approached him, stopping him right at the exit. It was a pleasant young woman—probably early twenties—who stood just half-a-foot taller than Flash.
"Greetings!" she smiled exuberantly, looking and sounding like a Disney cast member. "Are you ready to set foot upon the grounds?"
"Uhm... y-yes...?" Flash squeaked, feeling more and more eyes upon him from the nearby guests. He tried to contain his trembles. "Yes, ma'am," he repeated.
She giggled lightly before holding up a finger like some perky flight attendant. "A few reminders. Once you exit this building, you'll be on official Resort Grounds. The place outside is called the Entrance Hub. It is considered a White Zone—which means there are to be no intimate interactions there, despite the color of your bands. The boundaries of the White Zone are clearly marked, and from then on you and other guests will be permitted to interact as noted by your band colors. Except for Red—which is only permitted in Red Zones."
"I understand. And... uh... thanks."
"Thank you!" the woman giggled, then gestured for the door. "And please, dear guest, enjoy Day One of the Indulgence Getaway!"
Flash held his breath in.
Somewhere out there, Daybreaker was waiting for him. She said it herself: 'just beyond the White Zone,' meaning that she wanted him to take the first few virginal steps on his own. Hopefully his mistress wouldn't be ashamed of him choosing 'Yellow' and not 'Green.' But, surely she wouldn't fault him for acting on the side of caution. After all, he wasn't collared.
Not yet...
Another resort representative opened the door for Flash...
...and he walked out into the trepidatiously blinding world of Indulgence.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                        Indulgence                         
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Author's Note
https://camo.fimfiction.net/9oV0p1KFV3sBBvHWMHo6M1vzWfTZegK50lnpMsMUUis?url=https%3A%2F%2Fderpicdn.net%2Fimg%2Fview%2F2019%2F1%2F13%2F1934512.gif
~Nietzsche, I Lurve This Beautiful Boi~...
Ahem.
Tags For This Chapter: Public Nudity, Public Sex, Observation of Straight and Gay Intercourse, Bisexual and Pansexual Flirtations, Unexpected Kissing.
Indulgence
DAYBREAKER: I'm going to be there long before the Getaway even starts.  
DAYBREAKER: I've got some friends among the working staff and I'd like to catch up with them.  
DAYBREAKER: Plus—I want to make sure a few things arrive at the nearby post office.  
FLASHINTHEPAN: What things?  
DAYBREAKER: Uh uh uh.  
DAYBREAKER: ~Pretty Princess Tinkles will have to wait and see~  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Oh. Okay.  
FLASHINTHEPAN: So... I should just arrive on Day One?  
DAYBREAKER: I would drive out there no later than sunrise  
DAYBREAKER: Even if you have a parking pass—there's bound to be a lot of traffic around the grounds, and the enrollment process clogs things up a bit  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Right. Makes sense.  
DAYBREAKER: Shouldn't be too long of a drive. Indulgence is right outside your home town, isn't it?  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Yeah  
FLASHINTHEPAN: What are the odds  
DAYBREAKER: Ha ha. It's just perfect, sweetie. In forty-eight hours, you and I will be holding hands  
DAYBREAKER: Among other things  
DAYBREAKER: I simply can't wait  
DAYBREAKER: You're going to absolutely love Indulgence  
DAYBREAKER: I just know it  
DAYBREAKER: ...  
DAYBREAKER: Flash?  
DAYBREAKER: You've been quiet for a while. Is everything okay, sweetie?  
FLASHINTHEPAN: I guess I'm just a little bit scared  
DAYBREAKER: Scared of what, my little princess? You know you can tell me anything  
FLASHINTHEPAN: I've never done anything like this before. Sure, I know I'm going to enjoy meeting you and being around so many sexy people. But what if I let you down?  
DAYBREAKER: You're not going to let me down  
FLASHINTHEPAN: I'm just a sissy virgin who's done nothing exciting in his life. Until now.  
DAYBREAKER: Flash, trust me.  
DAYBREAKER: You are the one thing that I'm looking forward to at Indulgence this year  
DAYBREAKER: There's no possible way you could disappoint me—apart from not showing up, lol  
DAYBREAKER: I've been looking forward to this for a long long time  
FLASHINTHEPAN: See? It's stuff like that which makes me trip. There's just so much I don't understand, DeeDee.  
DAYBREAKER: I know, Flash. And it will all make sense soon.  
DAYBREAKER: I have something of a surprise waiting for you  
DAYBREAKER: For when we meet  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Surprise??  
DAYBREAKER: Trust me. You will love it. And everything will make sense. That's a promise.  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Okay  
DAYBREAKER: I love you, my little princess  
FLASHINTHEPAN: I love you too, DeeDee  
DAYBREAKER: Remember...  
DAYBREAKER: We will meet beyond the White Zone. Between the lake and the cottages. You're going to have a little bit of an adventurous trek before our rendezvous, precious. Think of it as having an initial stretch. Just put one pretty foot before the other, like trying on high heels for the first time~  
FLASHINTHEPAN: Just how will I find you?  
DAYBREAKER: It will be I who finds you. You'll know it when it happens, my Pretty Princess Tinkles. Trust DeeDee... ... ...
That was the last conversation that Flash Sentry had experienced with Daybreaker. It transpired only two days ago, and still his mind reeled and resonated from the words burned into his retinae. He focused on them—on the sincerity and enthusiasm in Daybreaker's tone—and let it carry him forward. For to focus on anything else for too long might make the young man faint.
To say that Indulgence was an overwhelming sight to behold in person was an understatement. Flash had read many a pamphlet since stumbling upon the first advertisement slipped beneath the windshield wiper of his car an eternity ago. Plus—having surfed Fuchsia every day for nearly a year straight, he had seen no end of pictures of the grounds, the resort, the facilities and convention halls and market stands and even the orgy rooms.
But actually being there—in his tender little frame—and being utterly surrounded by the majesty of that place... and bespeckled with so many horny adults too... was an experience bordering on the divine.
In his mind's eye, Flash anticipated a building, a pond, and some hiking trails. That was it.
This—of course—was far... far from the true reality of the matter. Indulgence was a horny Mecca of orgasmic splendor, and the architects had gone out of their way to incorporate it into the natural epicness of the local countryside. The main heart of the resort—the mansion itself—was a four-story behemoth of a building, ornately poised in its thick varnished mahogany finish. The structure nestled itself cozily within the crook of a sharply cresting gray mountain range, flocked with fir trees that beamed in the spring sun's glow as far as the human eye could scale.
The "pond" was an enormous lake, brilliant blue with a crystalline shine, that more-than-deserved the title "sea" just from its majestic volume and bold presence among the higher elevations. A portion of the mansion jutted out into this body of water, with docks and marinas and even a boardwalk lined with brightly-painted establishments. Out in the distance, Flash counted two luxurious yachts floating lazily in the morning glint. The boats had to have been constructed there on the grounds of Indulgence, for the young man—familiar with the area—didn't know any rivers thick enough that could feasibly carry the vessels there upstream. Flash thought he had arrived relatively early for the Getaway, and yet he spotted multiple attendees gleefully riding jet skis back and forth between the yachts. Much to his relief, a pair of life guards coasted nearby on rescue rafts, just in case.
Bordering the lake was the main body of the grounds itself. Flash could already tell that he wasn't in the position to capably see all of what Indulgence had to offer. Several smatterings of tree-lines broke his line of sight, not to mention portable buildings, huts, and tents. These weren't any carnie diet Woodstock structures neither, but elaborately furnished habitats with all the important amenities: air conditioning, electricity, plumbing, heating, and—most important of all—Wi-Fi. Off in the distance, Flash could make out a series of absolutely massive tent structures. They weren't like the circus big tops of childhood bedtime books, but instead they resembled modern day viking halls—grand gathering places that breathed openly with the crisp mountain air of the grounds—only they were full of supermodels and twinks instead of warriors obsessed with Valhalla.
The people. Great Greek God Bacchus the people...
The first thought that flickered through Flash's mind is that his fellow attendees were huge. And not in the grossly obese way or the classic Rubenesque manner—but rather so very many of the guests were tall, muscular, buxom, and healthy beyond all measure. For a brief moment, Flash's heart dipped—for he very seriously considered that Fuchsia had gone and hired a shitton of porn stars to fill up the ranks of the Indulgence crowd: like a struggling mobile battle royale game populating its servers with bots to liven up the experience for its legit customer base. But from the sight of their bags and the sound of their happy conversations and the all-too-real way they kept casually glancing at their phones while being at an honest-to-goddess sex resort, Flash determined that they were—in fact—the real deal. No doubt the product of rich elite living—to afford so much good health and medicine. A huge chunk of the attending populace, Flash deduced, were the grandchildren of rich moguls, and they were here for the same reason he was: to exercise the hormonal tubes of their virile bodies while they were still young.
Most of them were young. Every once in a while, Flash spotted someone—or a group of someones—who were "over the hill," as t'were. But even then they were predominantly specimens of peak physical performance. Business men with peppery hair but well-toned chest muscles. Matronly ladies with long dyed locks and hourglass figures. Those who were old—and older—appeared to hover in their own intimate social nets, laughing it up with a merriment that Flash envied even at his age. He could already tell that they possessed a confidence unlike the rest of the guests, and they hurried off to their private nooks of the resort, where they would presumably be doing many fun things that definitely did not include shuffle board.
What the guest list apparently lacked was super young people—as in Flash's age. He spotted many... many attendees who were clearly in their early to mid twenties, but not once in the first few floundering minutes of gawking at the grounds of Indulgence did Flash find anyone else wearing the same third wristband as him. On one hand, this made a lot of sense; it was just this year that Indulgence lowered the minimal admissible age from twenty-one to eighteen. It stood to reason that the bulk of those who could afford to attend the Getaway were mostly the same people who could afford to attend the previous year's Getaway. Still, Flash somewhat expected there to be more horny barely-legal teens practically throwing themselves at the gates of Indulgence. Perhaps he was just a special case. If so, it was all because of Daybreaker... who somehow had the resources, the affection, and the unmitigated gall to invite a little pipsqueak like him to that place.
Daybreaker...
Flash's heart leapt, but then it sank. It leapt because he thought of her. Sank beause he still couldn't see her. Not that he knew what her face looked like—which was true. But he was still in the White Zone, barely moving for fear of tripping over the absolute mind-numbing spectacle of that place. She had told him to move towards the space between the lake and the cottages—and he still couldn't even see the "cottages." Flash trembled, and he knew that there were only going to be more sights and sounds that would make his poor petite body tremble even more. The only thing that would relax him was meeting Daybreaker... and finally being in the arms of the loving domme he had come to adore after a year of nightly chats.
And that meant moving forward—into the lion's den.
Taking a deep breath, Flash strengthened the grip of his bag and guitar case and pressed onward. The representative who spoke to him at the registration building's exit wasn't lying. It was more than abundantly clear that he was currently located in the so-called "White Zone." As if it wasn't on-the-nose enough, all of the buildings, vendor stalls, and restrooms situated around him were painted a bone-pale alabaster. It was almost blinding in the morning sunlight, and Flash could barely make out information booths and pamphlet stands and what appeared to be a media press center. No doubt Fuchsia had its finest team out there on the grounds, covering and recording all they could for "Indulgence Live." For a brief moment, Flash wondered what all of his online acquaintances were doing at that moment—if they might be logging on and spotting the boi's tell-tale body amongst the livestreamed masses and feeling a shuddering dose of envy.
As Flash moved towards the edge of the zone, he found himself passing groups of people embracing one another. There were no lewd actions being committed here—but rather platonic hugs and deep embraces and shaking of hands. The importance of the White Zone became abundantly clear: it was a place for people across the country—and world—to meet up and decide their destinations before... ... ... meating it up and delving into their decadence. It seemed only fair: a place as ecstatic as Indulgence needed its center of calm, sanity, and sobriety.
Funny—then—that a caring and loving mentor like Daybreaker wanted Flash to meet her outside of it. But then again, he knew that she wasn't just making that decision out of random mirth. The whole crux of their "relationship" thus far had been about getting him out of his shell and giving her a sense of authoritative control. This current plan—however awkward—benefited them both. It resonated of Daybreaker's mischievous side while simultaneously appealing to the squirmy sissy masochist within Flash. And he was just about to find out how squirmy he could be.
The penultimate boundary of the White Zone couldn't have been more obvious if the staff poured gasoline in a line and set it on fire. Multiple rectangular solid signs stood like an unfinished wall, emblazoned all over with supremely important texts, symbols, and reminders for those entering that debauched domain:
"WELCOME TO INDULGENCE"
"PLEASE ADHERE TO COLOR CODES"
"WHITE (Illustrated: A Lone Stick Figure)"
"BLUE (Two Stick Figures Holding Hands)"
"YELLOW (Two Stick Figures Fondling One Stick Figure From Both Sides)"
"GREEN (One Lucky Stick Figure Being Spitroasted by Two Stick Figures)"
"RED (No Symbols, Just—) = RED ZONES ONLY"
"SWITCH COLOR CODES AT BAND STATIONS ONLY"
"ONLY SUBMIT RECORDED MEDIA TO FUCHSIA"
"THE SAFE WORD IS 'VERDANT'"
"YOU ARE NOW EXITING THE WHITE ZONE"
Flash's virgin foot landed in the green grass on the other side of the line. Much to his gasping relief, he didn't explode or melt or get smitten to death by God. The difference was immediately sensed, however. He heard music echoing through the faint tree line. Pushing forward—following a soft dirth path—he came upon the next and largest clearing yet. The grounds of Indulgence stretched open, polished and emerald and bright—with plenty of casual seating areas and miniature courtyards dotting a lush field broadly bordered by long building strips with shaded verandahs. There were speakers on tall stands playing music across the grounds. Currently, it was an old pop song by Kylie Minogue (Fuckin' Hell, of course it was), and it most certainly contributed to the uppity, horny mood of the place.
That and the naked people having sex.
Flash almost gagged. It was the poor virgin's first civilized response. Seeing explicit actions done between two sapient human beings in a pornographic video on a computer screen was one thing. Actually witnessing it in "public" with naked eyes... ... ... well... ... ... for all of Flash's preparations and obsessions and hormonal participations in all things pink via Fuchsia, stumbling upon the real thing still had a gut-punching result, and Flash was ashamed to say that he initially felt nauseated. Like a sobbing doormouse huddled into the corner of a church.
And it was just a handsome hunk of a man fingering his bottomless girlfriend as they both reclined on a love seat. The two were sprawled out on cushioned furniture—surrounded by friends who were casually chatting and drinking iced refreshments. The woman's shorts and panties were gathered at her knees and she was lying back against her boyfriend's muscular chest, rolling her eyes and arching her back like an amateur pornstar as he continued to fondle her clitty and dip one finger—then daringly two—into her desperate wet snatch. The beau—shirtless—hummed in a low, resonating voice. His nostrils flared, and Flash spotted him leaning in to kiss the woman and murmur something into her ear. It must have been a damned good joke, because it broke through her orgasmic sweat to make her and their friends laugh all at once.
It was that last detail of innocent mirth—and not the lewd public fingering—that gave Flash his first boner at Indulgence. Instinctively, the poor boi hunched over—moving forward like Quasimodo in a long-self-taught high school method of hiding it. This lasted all of ten seconds before Flash nearly bumped into a pair of buck-naked men, strolling across the grounds with their hands sweetly held together.
"Whoops! Careful there, cutie!" one said with a wink.
"Welcome to the Party!" the other added, blowing a kiss. And then both men sauntered off... along with their elephantine erections.
Flash was having a hard time breathing now. He had to lean against one of the music speaker stands, battling the persistent wheeze of his chest as his eyes slowly swept across the grounds immediately surrounding him... ... ... much to his mixed joy and chagrin.
To the right, he saw a line of women—all young and hot and gorgeous as could be—collectively sunbathing in the nude. One was slowly and lusciously applying suntan lotion to her globulous mammaries when—unbeknownst to her—two friends in bathing suits strolled up with an ice cooler and proceeded to dump the frigid contents all over their companion. Shrieking against a wall of laughter, the soaking nymph hopped up and chased her friends, making threats in between abrasive giggles. There was just... so much goddamn bouncing.
Flash gulped a lump down his throat. He heard a persistent whimpering noise and looked to his left.
Not far away—within a bra's throw—a middle-aged woman was straddling a lucky stud. The lean man lay sprawled out across a massive plush ottoman, gripping the lady's firm ass cheeks as she penetrated herself on his thick rod like a wild cowgirl. Her yelps of painful pleasure formed falsetto echoes against the furniture around them, and he moaned lusciously every once in a while to create a sinful serenade. Two... three... no... five people were in the process of disrobing around them. Like an adult movie, they crowded around the couple, hot and horny. The riding woman slowed her bouncing to reach over and nibble on a dude's veiny cock, before leaning the other way and liberally licking/lapping at a moaning girlfriend's dripping pussy.
The scene grew louder and more profane. The longer Flash listened, the more he heard those same sounds emanating from other random spots across the grounds. It was still just the first morning of the Getaway, but the denizens of Fuchsia didn't waste any time. Already, Indulgence was vibrating with lust, laughter, and pounding flesh. Off in the distance—beside the lake—Flash saw a dozen people engaged in naked volleyball. Over by the verandahs, a man and a woman were casually playing Nintendo Switch all while being orally worshipped by another man and woman. Flash saw a football being tossed in an open patch of field. A dude caught it, but when his bros chased him down—instead of tackling him—they just puled his pants down and fondled his junk. He dropped the ball on the yardline—laughing—and turned around to openly french two other guests. Flash guessed the score was 0 to 0... or maybe 69 to 69.
Flash teetered precariously upon the precipice of hyperventilating. He stood aghast at himself for having such a visceral reaction to all this. The young man had hoped that he might handle things better. But—truth is—he was still young and still anxious and still a virgin.
And what shook Flash the most is that he might not remain all those things for very long.
The entire damned time, Kyline Minogue heralded from the heavens above:
~All the lovers that have gone before | They don't compare to you~
Flash took a deep breath. He leaned away from the speaker stand and re-gathered his things. Around that time, a warm voice spoke to his left:
"Hey there~ Are you doing okay?"
Flash looked over... then up. It was hard not to look directly into the woman's breasts. This was something Flash had to constantly deal with, since his body refused to grow much higher beyond his Freshman year. But typically the woman in question wasn't an honest-to-Goddess nordic supermodel with puffy lips, bright blue eyes, and triple D's crammed offensively into a flimsy shoe-string bikini top.
"You look lost~" She said, then let out a girlish giggle. "Let me guess. First time at the Grounds~?"
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Flash pronounced, fish-eyed.
"Hmmmm... I guess that's a 'yes.'" She reached out and stroked his arm. The touch was incredibly warm, and it threw Flash off guard—as if he forgot all his life that humans weren't cold-blooded. "Yellow code. That's very brave of you." A coy wink. "Considering the third band."
"I... guess...?" Flash wheezed. He cleared his throat. "I'm... a-actually looking for m-my chaperone."
"Oh?" She cocked her blonde hair aside. "But I don't see a collar."
"She's... uh... she's bringing it for when we meet."
"Ahhhhhhh... sent you down a gauntlet, did she?"
"Maybe...?"
"Heeheehee..." The woman leaned in and kissed Flash on the forehead. "Good luck with that, sweetie. You'll need it." Her boobs jiggled as she leaned back. "Hmmmmmmm... if only you were a redheaded girl. I would have been alllllllll over you." She bird-walked backwards and sashayed off. As she did so, Flash stared at the enormous uncircumcised cock dripping out of her bikini bottoms.
Stifling a tiny little squeak, Flash waddled forward—vaguely in the direction of the mansion. He was too busy trying to walk with a stiff third leg, much less survey the grounds for those damnable cottages.
He did catch sight of something interesting, though—something he had witnessed ever since first leaving the White Zone, only he hadn't paid close attention to it until now. Among the people having fun, having conversations, and having sex—were people not having fun, not having conversations and most definitely not having sex. They wore black velvet button-up shirts and matching dark shorts. Most also sported sunglasses and walkie-talkies and—from what Flash could tell—they were predominantly more muscular and intimidating than the attending crowd.
At last, the boi's rational brain kicked in, briefly interrupting his shocked stupor. That must be security, Flash thought to himself. True enough, the sight of these uniformed individuals matched what Flash had researched online via Fuchsia. There was an awful lot of these strong, deadpan, stalwart sentries—and they were so evenly-spaced that they very easily hung along the periphery of any and all naughty hijinks going on across any feasible portion of the grounds at any given time. Now—more than anything—Flash could almost digest the full financial scope of this place and the resulting cost of an actual Getaway package.
How do they keep from just... getting turned on by everyone and everything around them? Flash bit his lip in thought. Maybe they're fifth generation castrati.
He hadn't an opportunity to roll his eyes at himself, for another brief stride took him upon the fringes of an outright orgy. The scent of sex was so strong that it pierced even his vapid virgin senses, and Flash threw his glance towards the nexus of a train wreck. It lived up to this—in that each and every car of the "train" consisted of sweat-soaked beefcakes who were constantly "wrecking" their dicks into one another. Were it not for one unlucky absentee, the men would easily have made a sexual centipede of sodomy, and it was with no small shock that Flash found more than a few of them hungrily glancing his way between savage thrusts.
"Hey th-there, buddy~" Someone at the very front grunted, tanking the weight of all the shafts thrusting behind his behind. "Wanna hop on Pop?"
"Snkkkkt! Hahaha—!" A man two persons behind him wheezed between happy grunts. "Merry, are you s-serious?!"
"Hey, fuck you, Teddy!"
"I'm—grnnnngh—g-getting to it!!"
Flash stumbled backwards with a shocked expression—which prompted no end of chuckles and cooing noises from the people around him. It turned out that there was an audience enjoying this literal conga line of cocks, and Flash immediately squeaked an apology as he rushed to get out of their line of sight—fumbling to dodge a person or two as they stripped naked and rushed in to join the gay chain reaction on either side of him. Flash lost his balance at one point, only to be "caught" by a strong arm. He turned with beady eyes to see the face of a female body-builder and a younger girl, both of whom took turns kissing him on the lips—the second longer than the first—before gently letting him go and handing his dropped guitar case back to the boi.
"God, you're precious," the smaller woman said, cradled against the reclining figure of the first. She touched one of her own breasts while her partner stroked the other. Both sets of eyes were locked on Flash—sweeping fixedly up and down—before settling on the sight of his third armband. "Consider stumbling back here later? Please?"
Flash strafed numbly, his eyes still locked on those who were locked on him. Never mind the fact that he had just enjoyed his first kiss since dating Sunset Shimmer back in high school, and it had all resulted from a perfect stranger, but he just awoke to the fact that—given the color of his band—anyone around the grounds could and would have physical access to him. Not to actually push into full intercourse, granted, but nothing was stopping them from repeating what those ladies just did. The full reality of the matter hadn't fallen on the boi's tender shoulders until just then, and he didn't know whether to feel flattered or scared. Or both.
It didn't help that—the further he pressed on (or tried to)—he found more and more people outright staring at his left arm. Even perfectly content couples and trios who were making out paused in what they were doing to oogle the third bracelet on his person. Flash got the distinct sense that everyone was out for young blood. Either that—or he was simply a curious sight to behold on the grounds of Indulgence this year. In any case, it was probably for the best that he wore yellow instead of green—or else he might have been penetrated more than a plutonium molecule at that point. The whole feeling of being gawked at—and desired in far more lewd ways than wholesome—was equal parts frightening and exciting.
"Heyyyyyyyy there, handsome~"
As if on cue, Flash heard a sing-songy voice warbling from nearby. In mid-walk, he looked over to see a ring of half-naked middle-aged people seated beside a smoke barbeque. The air smelled of sauce, briskets, and body lotion. The hair on these heads were grayer—and the eyes baggier—but everyone shared an infectious buzz, as seen in their smiles and their beer cans.
"You look lost~" a woman with long curly locks said. She looked old enough to be his aunt... or maybe even his aunt's aunt. A gaggle of like-cougars contained their giggles as she addressed the year old drifting by. "Why don't you come and rest for a while? Mama will keep ya company."
"I... uh..." Flash cleared his throat. Careful to avoid using "ma'am" or "madame," he pointed to his neck. "I hate to disappoint. I-I'm... uhhhh... heading off to meet someone who's spent an awful lot to make sure we keep each other company."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh..." The woman looked both curious and sad at once. "You've already got a Mama."
Flash shrugged, then pulled deep into his invisible bag of dorkiness to salvage the moment. "Well, if if turns out she's my sister, then this Getaway is ending real-damn-quick for m-me!"
The whole gathering laughed. The men too. One woman sat up with a flirtatious expression. "Wanna find out if we're brother and sister? Hop on over for a spell; let's compare toes!"
Flash chuckled, shaking his head. "I want them left for counting when I finally meet her!"
"Awwww~" The woman pounted, nevertheless winking at the boi. "I don't bite that hard."
"I do!" said a man behind her, patting his hand on her wrinkled shoulder.
The group laughed again.
Flash exhaled, saluting the barbeque party with a smile. He left the scene feeling more amused than anything. The boi weathered a deep breath, scanning the edges of the grounds for the cottages he heard so much about. Flash sincerely wished that he could just relax like everyone else there at Indulgence. Granted—at this rate of near encounters with the happy and horny populace—he just might loosen up enough to be counted as one of them. As he pondered on this, his eyes noticed a column of miniature buildings hugging the northeast tree line. Each was a tiny, cozy looking two-or-three room structure with a miniature porch and adorable little chimney. He saw people—some nude and others lightly dressed—standing idly and chatting between the separate houses. From the look of things, people were just now arriving and settling into these establishments. No doubt—much like the rooms of the main Mansion—they were reserved for special attendees who could afford them.
"The cottages...!" Flash breathed to himself. His features brightened, for there was hope at last that he might survive this gauntlet with his sanity intact after all. "Oh gosh... if I-I can just make it over there without getting pounced on—"
Fate intervened. A pair of strong hands came down on Flash's petite figure from behind. One on each shoulder. He felt a warmth rumbling through him, meanwhile the air smelled of lilac and sunflowers.
"And just what do you think you're doing here, Mr. Sentry?" rolled an authoritarian tongue. It was a voice that snapped Flash viciously out of the moment, like a torpedo up his spine, shattering every chakra in its violent wake.
The boi's beleaguered mind couldn't immediately pinpoint where the voice came from. It was as familiar as the color of grass, or the glare of the rising sun. And yet, trying to pinpoint its origin was like waking up with a start and guessing what day it was, or attempting to put the name to an actor who was guest starring on some random tv show clip.
All that Flash could tell was that he knew who this voice belonged to... that he hadn't heard this voice in a long time... that this voice summoned much pride and appreciation... ... and at the same time it sparked a great deal of panic and fear... ... ... because the only thing Flash was certain of was that the voice did not belong to that moment then and there—or, if it did—it didn't belong to the same time and place that he was sharing.
Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. And Flash felt a cold chill—like he was in trouble.
"Well???" the voice dripped yet again. Rich. Syrupy. Womany. The humming tone was powerful, luscious, strong—and Flash suspected that any young person—boy or girl—would be insatiably turned on by the texture alone...
...except that—just as he was turning around to face her—he was already trembling. Catching wise to himself. To that moment. To her. And when he found himself staring straight at her bosomy blouse, he gulped tightly and lifted... lifted his head until he was gazing up at her stern eyes peering straight back down at him. And he whimpered like a field mouse caught in an owl's gaze.
"Pr-Principal Celestia...?"
The woman's rosy eyes hardened into fierce daggers. She scowled at him as if she had just caught a juvenile delinquet skipping class. And this made the entire encounter a hundred times more surreal. Flash's heartbeat increased. Yes, Principal Celestia was always a gorgeous woman. Hell, she was a smoking-red-hot classy Goddess of a woman. But seeing her there—at an honest-to-Beelzebub sex resort of all places—was sparking a cold flame of existential terror deep within the boi's chest. He felt like he was witnessing a glitch in the Matrix, or a flub on his own personal Truman Show. Or—even worse—was he lying in bed somewhere, having dreamt up these past sixteen months of surfing Fuchsia, revolutionizing his tender sexuality, and enrolling in that unbelievably oppulent Getaway at Indulgence? Seeing Celestia's face completely ripped Flash out of the moment, transplanting him into a ghostly void where his optimistic self had previously been just a few felicitous seconds ago. The familiar whiff of her perfume did him even worse, throwing Flash into a distorted trance, making him feel yet again like a scared fourteen-year-old Freshman freshly attending CHS orientation.
"Surprised to see me?" Celestia had her arms folded as her body took on a staunch pose. Like a chess piece. She was a tall human being—a whole lotta woman, both buxom and beautiful. For those who were naughty students back at Canterlot High, she could prove to be really damn intimidating. This was something that a good boi like Flash never had to contend with—until now. "I should say the same about you." Her nostrils flared.
For all her menace, the woman was wearing an adorkably tame outfit, one that Flash vaguely remembered from a certain music festival ages ago. It was a purple coat with turquoise accents over a violet shirt and blue denim shorts. Underneath all of this, Celestia wore midnight blue tights tucked into a pair of mini-boots, which gave off the aura of an oversized teenager shopping at Hot Topic. In contrast to this was a wide-brimmed purple sunhat that screamed "soccer mom." All in all—now as much as then—the outfit belied a school principal who was trying too hard to be young and hip, and yet—dorky as it may have been to the extreme—it somehow worked. Because she was Celestia—to which beauty had no compare—and she could have been wearing a potato sack and still she would pull it off.
And—for the time being—Beauty Incarnate was firing salvo # 3 of the third degree being agonizingly inflicted upon poor Flash Sentry.
"Do your parents know that you're here at such a debauched and sinful place?" Celestia leaned forward, the shadow of her bosom cascading over Flash's paling features like the opening shots to Indpendence Day. The trembling boi stood about even-face with her nipples, something Flash used to meditate much on back during the last whimpering months of his puberty, but right now it'd likely be a death sentence if he dared to obsess any further. "I see that someone's obviously led you astray, Mr. Sentry," she spoke in terse, gatling gun grunts. "How far we've fallen indeed..."
"I... I..." Flash Sentry couldn't help it. He was close to tears—more out of confusion than anything. "I-I'm sorry if I've... disappointed you? Ms. Celestia?" He clenched his fists, sniffed, and stood tall and proud despite it all. "But I'm not here for you to judge m-me..." Despite his sincere push-back, his voice cracked noticeably. "O-okay?"
"Oh?" Celestia tried to remain tight and stern, but there was no fighting the coy smile blooming from her fluffy depths. "And just who are you here to meet, Pretty Princess Tinkles?"
"I'm here for—" Flash Sentry stopped. Flash Sentry blinked. Flash Sentry gazed fixedly at her with a slowly falling jaw.
Celestia took a deep and contemplative breath, drinking in the softening expression on Flash's face. As reality took shape, so did her eyes, moistening slightly with a tinge of vulnerability as she watched and waited. Watched and waited. Watched and—
"Mmmmm..." Flash trilled like a scared kitten. If he had been a pony, his ears would be folding back with infantile curiosity. "... ... ...Dee Dee?" He was questioning the universe as much as her. All things everywhere froze—including the naked and horny people in distant orbit of the two—as the crux of reality shrank and spun into a fractal frame around him, her face, and the beautiful panic sparking delicately in between. "DeeDee? Is... is that you?"
Celestia exhaled. A warm breath. Lilac and sunflowers. She reached down, caressing his face and hair. The sheer touch sent a shudder up and down her tall frame, and it humbled Flash that something about him being there in the flesh floored her even more than she paralyzed him.
Nevertheless, her hand lingered there. Stroking the small of his ear lobe. Tickling his cheek. Her eyes locked with his as her smile grew softer, more sincere. A silliness clung to the edges, tingling with each passing second as she allowed the awkwardness to melt away and for a strange hysteria to fill in the basin left over.
He felt it too. Relief mixed with shock mixed with disbelief mixed with nausea mixed with arousal. Flash sensed his ghost leaving his body, spinning around the scene with a third person camera, and slamming back into himself. There was no more room for all of these bottled up emotions, and the only way to get it out was to giggle—incessantly—like a dentist patient high on laughing gas.
Once he laughed, Celestia did too. One of only two or three times Flash had ever heard his beautiful high school principal let out pure joy like that, and in such exultant volume too. It made him laugh as well—harder and harder—until he suffered one jolt too many and he dropped his bag and guitar case.
"Oh shit~!" Celestia cursed, covering her mouth. It was the first time Flash ever heard her utter anything vulgar.
It was just too much. He dropped like a rock. Flash pretended to be kneeling down to scoop his things back up. It was the excuse Celestia needed to do the same.
"Here, allow me...!" She huffed. She puffed. There was a redness suddenly spreading across her pale features that looked alien. Everything was collapsing. Sweat kissed the sunflowers and lilacs. Flash saw her nipples poking violently from beneath her shirt. Flash saw that Celestia saw that he saw her nipples. Her lips pursed, she froze—on level with Flash. Two confused half-strangers on their knees, praying for the levee to break. Then... with very little pretense left to delay the inevitable—she violently reached out and scooped the trembling boi into a deep hug.
"Eeep!" Flash squeaked, but there was no escaping it. His surprised face pressed softly into her shoulder, and he felt the full extent of her ample bust jutting into his torso. Not even Sunset hugged him like this, and they had dated for several months. He and Daybreaker had known each other for over a year, and yet... and yet... "DeeDee...?" he desperately repeated.
"Yes, princess..." She stroked the back of his neck, fingers relishing in the touch of his hair—the shortest and softest part where the follicles rooted into his goosepimpled flesh. He felt her voice kissing past his ear. Her perfume flowery and motherly and there. "It's me. It's really me."
"DeeDee, you're... you're..."
"Shhhhh..." There was a cold shudder. As Celestia's body shook, so did Flash's, for he was imprisoned in her embrace. Despite the warmth, he was acutely aware of her fractious vulnerability right now, and he didn't fight the hug as she further purred: "Yes. I know. I know, sweetie."
"How..." Flash derp'd. "How long...?"
There was a warm, airy chuckle. Celestia's voice took on that warm rolling tone that Flash had gotten used to during all his high school existence. "As long as I've been alive, you could say."
"I... I never..." Flash bit his lip. "I never figured that—"
"Well..." Celestia's body loosened a bit. Her perfume was so rich that Flash was certain it would soak through him. He wasn't complaining. "...I did take most of my pictures in low lighting."
"Yes..." Flash exhaled, thinking about all of those gorgeous headless selfies she shared—and how Flash never once made the connection between the alabaster goddess and Celestia, nor had any incentive to. "Yes, you did."
His mind was racing, and he hadn't come to a decision whether or not he should be angry. He had always found Principal Celestia attractive—a veritable paragon of feminine beauty. But to think that she housed the spirit and heart of Daybreaker threw him for a complete loop, as if some symbiotic other had fused together since the last time he logged off of Fuchsia.
"But... I'm trying to..."
Before he could even finish speaking, he thought of just how much he knew "Daybreaker." Or—more to the point—how much about herself Daybreaker had shared. And it occurred to him that she shared as much about herself as he shared about himself—which was almost always limited to vague feelings, concerns, fears, struggles, hopes, dreams, aspirations. Never did he once share the exact address where he lived, or the name of the school he went to. And—for that matter—Daybreaker never came out and confessed the name of where she worked or the specific matters that stressed her out on a daily basis or even the location of her home town.
Yes, they shared stories from their pasts. A few names—all of which could have been repurposed for the given anecdotes. All in all, for as intimate and sexual as they got online, the two of them had still buffered a layer of vagueness between each other. Perhaps it was out of some mature act of self-preservation... ... ...something that they had both opted to shatter the moment that they arrived here—here at Indulgence... where there would be no running away from the flesh any more. In fact, had Daybreaker—Celestia—not picked him out from the crowd, he could just as well guessed it was anyone else with a feminine figure—
"Wait." His pupils shrank. He leaned back from the hug and finally faced Celestia dead-on. "How... did you know it was me?"
She gave him a long, coy glance. Patient. Waiting... ... ...
The boi blinked. Hard. Then he groaned at himself. "Duhhhh..."
"Been a long time since you were on the honor roll, huh?" Celestia fought another wave of giggles.
"I... uh... yeah. Of course." Flash was blushing—furiously. The most he had blushed since arriving there, and he wasn't even nude yet. "Gosh, I sent you sooooooo many pics of myself."
"Heehee. Yes you did, sweetie." Celestia stroked his cheek. It was her turn to blush, and Flash saw her eyes glazing over with unnameable passion as she drank him in—her hand lingering on the touch of his young flesh. "Yes you did."
"So... I... uh..."
"Surpriiiiiise..." Celestia pressed a toyful tongue against her teeth. It was very... odd seeing her this close—much less this gleeful. But it was a good "odd," one that made Flash's heart flutter—then drop—then flutter back up to her hungry-eyed gaze. "I did promise you'd be surprised, huh?"
"Yes you did." Flash exhaled. He looked at Celestia. He looked at her for even longer. "Snkkkt—hahahaha...!"
"Hmmm-what?" she smiled brilliantly. Goddess, her teeth were perfect. Just how old was Celestia again?
Just how...
Celestia...
Principal Celestia. The matriarch of Canterlot High School... Flash Sentry's high school...
...and she was heads-over-heels in love with him?
Well, she was Daybreaker. And Flash was her "little princess." And this was Indulgence. And this... this... this...
... ... ...Principal Celestia?
"Is..." She held her breath a bit, reading the thickness as it oozed from his anxiously giggling features. "...is this too much?" She gulped. "I mean... I-I understand that it must change things—"
"No, Miss Cel—Daybreaker." Flash shook his head with a desperate glimmer in her eyes. "It doesn't."
"Princess." Celestia's gaze hardened, and the window of Flash's mind envisioned bold text in a Fuchsia Direct Message channel. "Don't lie to your Queen."
Flash gulped. He carefully prepared the next few words. "I... always told myself that—whoever you turned out to be—I w-would be okay with it, Deedee, so long as it was you."
"Uh huh..." Celestia breathed in, tensing slightly. "And is it as you foretold?"
Flash bit his lip.
Celestia arched an eyebrow.
"Mmmmm...would you be mad at me..." Flash shrunk a bit in her grasp. "... ... ...if I-I told you that this is an upgrade?"
Celestia blinked hard at that. "... ... ...Mrtt... snrkkk—hah hah hah hah!" Despite her explosive outburst, she hugged him tight once more, crushing him to her chest.
He exhaled, trembling with a nervous smile in her grasp. He could almost wrap his head around the fact that this lovely, tall, beautiful person was his Daybreaker. But that it was also the same Principal Celestia whom he had always known...?
"Ohhhhh Flash... Flash, sweetie..." Celestia knelt evenly so that the two could stare at each other yet again. "Let's be real with each other for a moment."
"O-okay," he stammered.
"You're an adult. I'm an adult. And yet—" Celestia's hand found its way back to his hair. She shuddered a fit, fondling his bangs for a little bit longer than she purposed. Clearing her throat, she forced her hand back to his shoulder and fought through a burning blush to say: "And yet let's acknowledge the fact that I've known you were you longer than you've known I was me."
"Well..." Flash licked the inside of his cheek. Bashfully. "I did send the pics. That's on me."
"... ... ..." Celestia momentarily avoided his gaze. "I've... kn-known longer than that, Flash..."
He blinked. "... ... ...huh?"
"Tell me. How did you ever find out about Fuchsia to begin with?"
His brow furrowed.
"Please. Think back, princess."
"Oh... uhm... I've told you a bunch of times." Flash snapped a finger, pointing into the air with a whimsical smile. "The pamphlet. Y'know—that I found under my windshield wiper that one time? And... uhhhhh... it's funny. Cuz I could have sworn that I got a spam e-mail about the app sometime before that. Can you believe that I deleted it?! Hahaha...! And... uh... look where I am t-today!" He pointed sheepishly at the bacchanalia buzzing around them.
Celestia—at the moment—was toying with a lock of her own pastel hair, taking on a look not unlike many of the teenage larvae that she mentor'd back at CHS. "And... mmmmm... wh-who do you think forwarded that e-mail to you?" she suggested. Hoarsely.
Flash cocked his head aside. "What?"
"And... maybe... k-kinda sorta pl-placed the pamphlet on your car after finding out your band was performing downtown?"
Flash's eyes twitched. "... ... ... What."
Celestia gazed shyly at him.
Flash's lips pursed. He felt his pulse thumping. Like a war march.
Her hand snaked down, gently folding around him and squeezing tenderly. "Flash, let's... go have a seat somewhere. Mmmmkay?"

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                        Daybreaker                         
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Author's Note
https://camo.fimfiction.net/jzBN5M7qOxcHH8xkly5zKNhPJEtM0aco2uODpFIAuWo?url=https%3A%2F%2Fderpicdn.net%2Fimg%2Fview%2F2020%2F10%2F9%2F2462824.gif
Enter the Domme.
Tags For This Chapter: Collaring, Pet Play, Safe Words, Public Groping, Exhibitionism, Domination, Humiliation, Sissification, Crossdressing, Tearful Orgasm, Kisses From Strangers, Masturbation, and Amazonian Principals Bridal-Carrying Fembois
TRIGGER WARNING: The "R"-Word is used once, but in a moment of implied pet play scenario via dialogue, not a literal non-consensual act.
Daybreaker
Flash felt suddenly scared. He was just barely merging the personas of both Celestia and Daybreaker together in his mind. But—from the nervous tone in the woman's voice—he suddenly feared that both might scatter to dust before he could capture such luscious lightning in its bottle. He felt a lump in his throat, and he found it difficult to stand up.
Thankfully—with matronly motions—Celestia easily helped him to his feet. She even picked up his things in one strong arm and guided him tenderly by the other hand. Together, the two strolled across the remaining grounds of Indulgence. Celestia led him towards the cottages, but not all the way. There was a sooner destination in mind, a large wooden bench resting perpendicular to the shiny lake and the emerald tree line. Surrounded by life-loving people walking to and fro, Celestia placed Flash's stuff by the legs of the bench. She sat down, and Flash made to sit too—when he gasped at Celestia's motherly arms suddenly lifting him with effortless grace...
...and sitting him across her lap like a child. Only now was the sheer difference in the two adults' sizes truly and fully apparent. Even propped up on the woman's knees, Flash's head scarely measured past her shoulders. The position made him feel more than a little diminutive, and it was Celestia's hand—and not Flash's own volition—that ultimately tilted his face to look up into her loving gaze.
She held him there, pausing for a long while. Drinking him in. Waiting for his sissy heart to fall into a normal, calm rhythm. When—at last—she had control of the toasty warm atmosphere, she allowed her voice to roll between them, oozing over his ears as Flash felt her other hand stroke lovingly across the small of his back.
"Her Majesty's little princess has had a very exciting morning, hasn't she?" Celestia's lips purred soothingly.
Flash Sentry shuddered. He sat stiff and rigid in her lap, overwhelmed by the scent of lilacs and sunflowers. He remembered from past Fuchsia conversations how he told Daybreaker that he loved sweet, fruity, and flowery scents—and that he often connected "lilacs" to authoritative, powerful femininity. Clearly, Daybreaker—Celestia—had remembered that too, and it alerted the young man to just how fixedly real this moment truly was.
Celestia continued stroking the small of his back. "Pretty Princess Tinkles is so gorgeous when she's scared." Her other hand stroked his bangs as she smiled endlessly at him. "But she's even more beautiful when she's happy. Her Majesty loves her happy little princess."
The boi's breaths evened out slightly. Flash's shoulders eased, and his muscles further relaxed the more he heard Celestia speaking all of Daybreaker's trigger words—as if the principal was quoting all of the deepest conversations he had with his digital mistress via Fuchsia. But to combine the two of them in his mind was still proving a difficult feat...
"Such an adorable little sissy," Celestia continued, breathily now, cooing and coddling. Flash felt her hand shift from his back to his right side, giving him a slight squeeze while also urging him closer to her. "Her Majesty's put you through so much stress this morning. Pretty Princess Tinkles has had to deal with so many strange and scary people. But—the fact of the matter is—she pressed on... she resisted all of those temptations... ... because she only had Queen Daybreaker on her mind." Celestia's lips curved. "Well, Her Majesty has found her little sissy princess. You're safe. We're safe."
"Mmmmmmm..." Flash sniffled, his eyes watering. He finally leaned into Celestia's upper body, snuggling against her like a lovesick kitten. He squeezed his eyes as tears beaded along the edges.
"Yesssss..." Celestia whispered, guiding a hand to brush the boi's tender face. "That's right. That's right. Shhh-shhh-shhh... it's okay, sweetie. Her Majesty's found you. You're safe with Queen Daybreaker." She hummed—the semblance of a lullaby—and stroked her fingers gently across his eyelids, drying the tears away. "Such a prissy... sissy... princess boi..." A melodious giggle. "So sweet and so delicate—you just can't hold all of it in." She leaned down, brushing her nose against his head—getting a deep and pleasurable whiff of his hair. "Mmmmmmm... Silly precious Princess Tinkles... you really do leak sweetness from everywhere, don't you?" Another giggle, and she kissed Flash's forehead. "Don't you, princess?"
"Mmmm..." Flash trilled, squeezing his thighs together as he squirmed atop the older woman's lap. He felt a new pulse rising through his tender being. It was no longer fear. Or—if it was—it was a different kind of trepidation. Something delicious, although he felt it was egregiously decadent to take a bite.
"Answer your Majesty, Princess," Celestia leaned down to breathe hotly into Flash's ear. "Is my little sissy leaking right now?"
Flash bit his lip. There was most definitely a wet spot forming on the front of his underwear. The boi could already tell that it had to have been a veritable faucet of pre-cum.
"Y-Yes, my Queen," he finally mewled forth. Shuddering—as if with relief.
"Mmmmmmm..." She kissed his forehead again, and the far hand resumed stroking his delicate backside. "That's my adorable Princess Tinkles..."
He looked up at her with soft, vulnerable puppy dog eyes. "It really is you, isn't it?" The statement was necessary for the both of them, not just Flash.
It was Celestia's turn to breathe with relief. "Guilty as charged, Mr. Sentry."
Flash remained leaning against her, absorbed into her embrace. When he spoke, his tender voice rolled through her bosom, which evidently brought the woman enough satisfaction to blush as he carried on: "Those messages from Fuchsia. The spam e-mail... the pamphlet I found on my car..." His blue eyes sparkled innocently. "... ... ...those were really from you?"
Celestia nodded, her spare hand stroking his hair as she examined him close. "I couldn't be sure if you'd actually join from those prompts. Finding out was... literally like searching for a needle in a haystack." She gulped. "But I did find you."
Flash exhaled slowly, deflated against her. "That first selfie I shared... on the femboy groups..."
"That's right~"
"And you... knew it was me?"
"That's right~"
"But..." Flash's eyes narrowed. "...how?"
"You greatly underestimate the sharp eye I've had on you for a while now, princess," Celestia said. There was a pregnant pause, and she rolled her eyes with an amused expression. "Plus—your guitar case was in the background of your room."
Flash blinked hard. "It was?"
"And your old CHS blazer was hanging over the computer chair off to the side."
"Guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Flash raised two hands and covered an explosive blush.
"Hah hah hah hah..." Celestia used both hands to force his wrists down. "Don't hide your pretty face from me~" There was a hungry gleam to her eyes. "I've waited so long for this moment."
"I really s-suck at hiding my identity online," Flash muttered.
"Yes. Yes, you do."
"And... ... ...and that's when we started t-talking..." Flash's puppy-dog-eyes floated up towards her again. "Flashinthepan and Daybreaker."
"And we really should change that name of yours, princess."
"Pffft—heehee... yeahhhhh..." Flash smiled bashfully. "I thought it was clever, though."
"It is." Celestia stroked his chin. "You're very clever. And thoughtful. Mature. Empathetic—everything I've always valued in someone." She exhaled warmly. "All of which I was blessed to learn over time..."
Flash's lips pursed. "... ... ...that's what Fuchsia did for us. Huh? It got us to know each other better?"
"A lot better than we'd be able to... afford in person," Celestia said dryly. "Don't you think?"
Flash blinked. He gazed at Celestia's rosy eyes, Celestia's snowy complexion, Celestia's long fountain of pastel hair. "But... all along... before I even stumbled on Fuchsia—"
"I've wanted you for a long time, Flash Sentry," Celestia said in a low and huffy breath. He felt her hand pressing tighter into his back, as if making sure he didn't spontaneously fly away. Her nostrils flared more than a little bit. "A very... very long time..."
Flash gulped, feeling tinier than he did two seconds ago. "J-just how long...?"
For the first time in minutes, Celestia broke eyes with him. Flash saw her gaze scaling the lewd horizon beyond the bench they shared as she waxed nostalgic: "I've... always had an attraction to younger men. Smaller men. Almost as if I'm... just plain allergic to anyone or anything that could be seen as more dominant or more assertive than myself. Maybe it was my way of adapting to how much... height life has given me." She gulped. "I've had countless conversations with Luna about it, cuz I've dealt with it for years, and I've had very few confidants than her. Even as a teenager, I felt alone. Friends jokingly referred to me as 'Queen of the Amazons.' And it stuck—in more ways than one. When I first started dating, I simply couldn't pretend to be the submissive wilting flower for whatever headstrong partner dared to hold hands with me. And as time went by, eligible bachelors only grew older... and I grew less interested in all of them. I felt... simply cursed. I wanted the opposite out of what was expected by most of my potential suitors: control, dominance, the upper hand. As years went by and I obsessed more over it—the whole prospect of finding a perfect someone became pure fantasy. It drew me mad—and my only escape was to engross myself entirely in my work..."
"As principal of CHS," Flash remarked. He winced slightly. "Oh gosh... that could have led to a lot of trouble..."
"How so, sweetie?"
"I mean... at the school..." Flash squirmed, unsure of how exactly to word it. "...all the boys who attended... myself included—"
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings crop up once in a while," Celestia stated. "I am human, Flash. I'm also a professional. But—more important than that—I would never... ever put a minor into a gross and damaging situation." She shook her head. "Nothing is ever worth doing that to another person, no matter the intention."
"Of c-course..." Flash felt a little guilty for implying—or almost implying. But something still gnawed at him. "So... uhhh... exactly when did you... uhm... n-notice me?"
"Hmmmmmm..." Celestia smiled off towards the rising sun. Her cheeks went rosy—and Flash could tell it was from channeling amusement more than anything else. "Do you remember... one afternoon in your senior year..."
"Senior year...?"
"Yes, sweetie. Do you remember one afternoon in your senior year when Flash Drive got up on stage and performed a tribute song that you wrote for the Rainbooms?"
Flash's brain tapped into its musical muscle memory. "'Cheer You On'," he recalled. "Sandalwood was on keyboard. Ringo on rhythm guitar. Brawly Beast on drums. I... sang..." Flash grimaced... then grimaced some more. "Oh gosh... I was wearing that shirt too..."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm—that shiny red unbuttoned one~?" Celestia purred.
"Oh gosh..." Flash covered his face again, squirming on the woman's lap. "Oh gossssssssssh I was such a hammmmm."
"Heeheehee... yesssss you werrrrrrrrrre..."
"Wait..." Flash uncovered his face, blinking cutely. "But... you weren't there." He looked up at her, squinting. "Were you? It... it was a relatively small crowd, as I recall. But I don't remember seeing you there..."
"I watched the video recording that the A/V Club made of it," Celestia said.
"You watched the recording??"
"Well, I had to, sweetie," Celestia explained. "Microchips' science experiment went rogue and damaged the school property before you could finish your full set. It was my responsibility to ascertain the most recent breach in security."
Flash blinked, as if suddenly forgetting that CHS was often and randomly wrought with magical/technical mishaps worthy of saturday morning cartoon narratives. "Oh yeah. Right."
"You mean you forgot about that?"
"I... remember risking my neck to help the Rainbooms defeat Microchips' robot with their geodes. It tore my shirt up. But later, Rarity stitched it up for me. That was after Sunset gave me a lecture for wearing it unbuttoned while on stage." Flash bit his lip. "... ... ...okay, mostly I just remember the shirt I wore."
"Mmmmm-hmmmmm." Celestia squeezed his shoulder, lovingly kneading it. "So do I."
"Pinkie Pie had gifted it for my eighteenth birthday—" Flash recalled. "She said I looked good in red." He did a double-take, then smirked up at Celestia. "Hey! That's right! I turned eighteen a few months before that performance!"
"Believe me," Celestia droned, briefly deadpan. "That's a... specific detail I could never get out of my mind."
"Yeah, but—how did you know?"
"I'm principal of Canterlot High School, Flash. I know everyone's age."
"Oh."
"And... ... ...it made me feel considerably less guilty..." She freed a hand to fan herself, gazing off with a blush. "... ... ...when I-I took the video home with me." She gulped. "And watched it several more times." She gulped again. "Every night."
"Oh..." Flash blinked.
"And morning."
"Oh... ..." Flash blinked again.
"Mmmm—and also snuck stills of it on my phone for when I took coffee breaks in the office at work."
Flash felt that "leaking" sensation growing a tad bit more prominently in his crotch. He squirmed there in the lap of that beautiful woman who was shamelessly confessing her obsessive infatuation to him. "You... uh... you had it bad for me, huh?"
She huffed a lung-ful. "Yes."
"Eheheheh..." He chuckled bashfully.
"It... drove me more than a little bit batty," Celestia loosened the collar of her shirt ever so slightly. "On one hand, I wanted to pounce you and make you squeal with painful pleasure. But—on the other hand—I wanted to keep my career. Also not go to jail. Yes... that's... th-that's an important detail..."
"So that's why I saw less and less of you throughout senior year," Flash remarked.
Celestia let loose a melancholic sigh. "You... noticed that, I see..."
Flash bit his lip. "I mean... how can you not notice your daily life suddenly being less beautiful?"
"... ... ..." Flash felt Celestia's grip of him tighten, like talons struggling to resist sinking claws deep into a helpless prey. "I'm... ... ...going to remember that for later," she said in a breathy tone.
"'Later?'" Flash squeaked.
"I had to look out for myself, Flash," Celestia said. "And—as self-absorbed as it sounds—I had to look out for you as well." She brushed a hand through her own pastel threads, exhaling. "I had no intention of ruining my prospects as a principal and mentor, and I wasn't about to take advantage of an innocent young man who didn't need his life complicated by a crazed pervert."
"I mean..." Flash shrugged, trying on a crooked smile. "I was eighteen."
"Mr. Sentry," she groaned in an authoritarian voice.
He winced. "Sorry."
"Shhhhhh..." She brushed his bangs, smiling softly. "It's okay."
"No it's not." He bit his lip. "You... you must have been going stir crazy. I had no idea."
"It wasn't your place to know."
"But—"
"It had nothing to do with you," Celestia said firmly. "Get that out of your head. You owed me nothing. You still don't. Don't even pretend to think that there was ever a part you had to play in my... c-complex back then."
"... ... ...but you still had a crush on me...?" Flash's lips quivered. "I... I'm sorry, Miss Cel—Deedee. But I don't—... I just don't get it."
"Don't you?" Her gorgeous features loosened. The poor woman looked like she was strung up halfway between sobbing and laughing. Rather than give into hysterics, she cherished the opportunity to hold him close and stroke his cheek. "A sweet boi... handsome yet pretty... healthy but delicate... with so much respect for others? Willing to support... but desperate to prove himself—and somehow so adorkably awkward and charming in everything he does and says that it makes you want to instantly scoop him up and smother him until he bursts...?"
Flash curled up in her lap, hands posed like a squirrel caught in headlights. "Y-you really think all that about me?"
"Snkkkt—heehehee... stop ittttt..." It was Celestia's turn to cover her eyes, blushing furiously. "Goddess, you just make me want to absolutely gobble you up..."
"I... I-I guess I still don't get it, DeeDee..."
She exhaled long and hard, gazing defeatedly at him. "Maybe... maybe it is just me. Maybe I won't ever be able to properly explain it. But I adored the ever-loving fluff out of you then... and I still do now. Especially now that I know so much more about you... about what makes you tick... about what turns us both on..."
Flash gulped. "Because of Fuchsia."
She stroked the back of his head. Shuddering slightly at the touch. "That's right..."
"So... you set me up to meet Daybreaker..." Flash's eyes narrowed. "...so you could learn more about me?"
"Part of me thought that—perhaps—it would help the infatuation wear off. Well..." Celestia didn't even have to finish that. She simply shook her head in gorgeous defeat.
"I... I guess I should thank you," Flash said. "Now that I'm actually seeing you in person."
"Oh?"
"Of c-course...!" He sat up straight in her lap, trying to look her evenly in the face—and failing horribly. "I mean... I've learned so much about myself from speaking with you! I've discovered who I really am—how I wish to be—how I can enjoy life and... and... and just everything!"
Celestia's eyes were round. Moist. Searching. "...are you so sure about that, sweetie?"
Flash felt his heart sink a little. "Why w-wouldn't I be?"
Celestia battled a bubble of emotion rising up through her chest. Breathing deeply, she raised both hands to his shoulders, squeezing tenderly. "I feel... that..." Her teeth clenched... then unclenched. She started over: "You deserve an out, Flash."
Flash almost whimpered at that. "An out...??"
"Flash..." She squeezed his shoulders again. "Princess... ... ...I know you're an adult now. You've always been an adult to this obsessive woman, as far as I'm concerned. But... this... all of this... ... ...it could still get very... very c-complicated." She gulped. "Perhaps even dangerous. Never mind me. I know the risks. I've always had. But... I don't want to make you go through with something that you might regret."
"But why would I regret—??"
"I love you, Flash Sentry," Celestia stabbed, almost making him faint. She looked down at him dead-on, eyes piercing despite the ever-going threat of tears. "And while there are many... many things I like to do for you... and to you..." Her tongue lingered. A shudder. "...I want to make sure that you're okay in the end. And—most of all—that you're not here with me out of some sort of obligation or attempt to pr-prove yourself or... or... guilt—"
"Nobody's forcing me to be here, Deedee," Flash said. "At least... I mean... if I was b-being forced..." His breath grew a bit hot. Heavy. "... ... ...it's only b-because I also wanted it."
Celestia stared intently at him. She breathed. Breathed.
"Can... I-I ask you something, m-my Queen?"
She squeezed his shoulders again. "Anything, princess," she rasped.
His eyes narrowed. "If you knew that it was so 'wrong' to have a crush on me while I was still a senior... and you've been so concerned for my livelihood—even to this day... ... ..." He cocked his fair blue head aside. "... ... ...why did you even invite me to Indulgence in the end?" He clasped his delicate hands together, as if pleading. "I... I can't even pretend to know where you got the money from, Miss Celestia...! Like... it's costing you an arm and a leg just to show yourself to your naughty crush after all these months. Just... what's made it all worth it?"
Celestia was breathing harder and harder. Her pupils had glazed over with something unnameable, and it hitched the hot air in her lungs with each rise and fall of her hardening nipples.
"... ... ...this," she stammered, and Flash felt her grip of him tighten. Those same womanly hands that were holding his shoulders slithered hungrily up and down his arms, sides, and thighs. "Thisss," she practically hissed, and the contact her fingers made grew even hotter, toying with Flash's hair and tickle-tracing the dainty curves of his ears. "I must... I need..." She swallowed, then licked her lips as her unblinking gaze oozed all over him, followed by her lusting fingers. "I got to have this. If... if you wold be willing to g-give it." Another gulp. "To give yourself. Flash, I'll..." Her hand traveled down the back of his spine. "... ... ...I promise that you will enjoy it. If you j-just let me make you my plaything for a week... at least this week. There will be... so much fun and pleasure." Her teeth clenched, and her hand traveled lower—crossing the demilitarized zone and fondling his tight virgin ass through his jeans. "There will be much discomfort too. Even pain... but... but I swear... I will make sure you enjoy every minute of it." She squeezed him, caressed him, sliding a finger or two against the hottest of hotnesss—beneath him and between his legs—making the boi gasp into her sweat-scented speech: "And if it's even a fraction of how much I will enjoy you, Flash, then it will be a week that you will never forget. And even if..." She fought back a bubble of fear; Flash felt her hand drawing back to his trembline tailbone. "...if y-you decide that you will want nothing to do with me afterwards, I promise that you'll still start your journey into adulthood much stronger and more capable than you were before."
Flash trembled in place, practically sitting on her hand at this point. He knew that Celestia was exposing so much of her vulnerable self right now, and thus he struggled over a couple hundred thousand ways of saying "YES PLEASE" without shattering the pleading domme's mind.
"Would... you let me have that opportunity, Flash...?" While one hand squeezed his ass yet again, another tilted his chin up towards her. A flicker of confidence polished her smiling face as she swooped in for the kill. "...would you let her Majesty put a leesh on her Pretty Princess Tinkles? Let her make her prissy sissy cry... gasp... sob... laugh?" She leaned in, just a breath's kiss away, purring. "Would you let me have full control? Just for this week? To make all her dreams come true? And for her adorable princess pet as well?"
Flash Sentry's body had locked up tightly, his hands dug neatly into his legs—probably because he was hiding the hardest and most thunderous erection of his entire existence. He felt Celestia feeling him up, and he knew then and there that he'd be dealing with two women. No—not so much the Principal versus Daybreaker, whom he was just now starting to grow accustomed to blending together. But, rather, he realized now that he was going to be dealing with the woman who cared for Flash's feelings along with the cougar that wanted to shamelessly break him. But—so long as both halves had his best interest in mind at the end—then it was more than a worthy endeavor. Indeed, Flash knew that this was ultimately going to be a challenging exercise in trust, but one that he was willing to go through with. At least—that was the excuse he settled on, rather than chalking it all up to unmitigated horniness.
"Miss Celestia... Deedee..." Flash's voice came out in a mousey whimper. "Y-yes."
The older woman tilted her head aside, eyebrow raised. "What was that?"
"Ahem..." Flash coughed delicately. "Yes. Yes, ma'am."
"... ... ...say it in full, princess." Her words were like falling boulders.
Flash blinked. "Say... it in full?"
"We've gone over it before~" Celestia said, a bit softer in tone. "Over Fuchsia. Her Majesty needs more than just 'yes' or 'no.' This—this is like a contract, my little princess."
"Oh..." Flash exhaled. "Oh yeah... uhm—"
"If you agree to this, I need you to say so fully and completely." Celestia pivoted Flash until the gasping boi was straddling her, facing towards her chest. She grasped his face with both hands and leaned in until all the sissy could see was her full, commanding face. Eyes piercing. Anchoring. "I need you to repeat after me..."
He gulped and nodded his head in her grasp. Waiting obediently.
"'Your Majesty, I agree to be your sissy princess pet this week.'"
Flash took a shuddering breath. Nevertheless, his words came out solidly: "Your Majesty, I agree to be your sissy princess pet this week."
"'I will wear your collar and do everything that you tell me to.'"
"I will wear your collar and do everything that you tell me to."
"'Even if it hurts or feels awkward, I will do as I'm told.'"
Flash's fingers tightened between them, and he felt a little more sissy pre leaking out of his nethers as he repeated: "Even if it hurts or feels awkward... I will do as I'm told..."
Celestia smiled. She leaned in, scooping Flash into a deep hug—a hug that pressed his trembling face deep into her clothed, warm bosom. A plush field of lilacs. When she spoke, her voice rolled through him, and he could feel her womanly heartbeat throbbing passionately throughout—like sacred percussion.
"And Her Majesty will protect her Pretty Princess Tinkles," she purred. "She will play with her—but she will not do anything to damage her. She promises to respect the boundaries her princess has told her multiple times, and to listen and pay heed to whenever she gives the safe word." She parted the hug, if only to tilt Flash's head up and toy lovingly with his hair. "You do remember the safe word, do you, princess?"
Flash nod-nod-nodded.
"Say it," Celestia insisted.
"Mmmmm..." Flash shifted awkwardly, for it was the first time he'd ever pronounce the sacred thing outside of Fuchsia sex RP. While it was true that Indulgence had its own safe word for all attendees to use, he and Daybreaker had conversed multiple times about relying on their own trigger for when they would actually be intimate in real life together. Still—as much as Flash cherished the notion—it was a word that Daybreaker chose due to how much his sissy self loathed the very notion of it. Thus, after a tiny bit of fuss, he eventually blurted: "'Trousers.'"
Celestia smiled warmly at hearing the sub state it out loud. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Say it again."
Flash breathed. "Trousers."
She kissed him once more on the forehead. "One more time."
"'Trousers'..."
"Mmmmmmm..." Celestia leaned down and nuzzled his hair, holding him close—but gently—to her chest. "Her Majesty's beautiful... beautiful princess." She inhaled the scent of the boi's scalp, stroking his backside and speaking into his ears. "Are you ready for the collar, my loveliest?"
He nodded, exhaling against her shirt.
She stroked his back a few more times, then gave his shoulders a squeeze. Setting the two of them apart, she shifted on the bench, reached into her back pocket, and pulled out a slender baby-pink collar. Flash could tell that it was made out of the same flexible, water-proof enamel as his armbands—so it was obviously manufactured to Indulgence standards. But—unlike the models he had browsed through online via Fuchsia, this particular article was bordered with an unabashedly girly white lace.
"Yes~" Celestia saw Flash's eyes glued to the thing. "It's a custom model~" She giggled lightly under her breath. "Maybe... now you know why I was here long before Day One's opening." She looked bashfully aside. "Also, I had to do some shopping for someone precious..."
"Shopping...?" Flash's voice leapt.
"Ahem..." Celestia leaned forward, bringing the collar to Flash's neck. "...my sweet sissy princess, once this is on—you understand—you will be mine for a week. All mine."
Flash's twitching eyes locked onto the band. He felt his pulse quickening as it loomed closer to his tender neck. In the middle of the choker—front and center—there hung a silver heart-shaped locket. There was a keyhole, he saw, that likely doubled as a place to loop a leesh-line through. But, more than that, there was an inscription delicately emblazoned upon the pendant: Princess Tinkles – Property of Celestia.
The boi couldn't fight it. A deep tingling sensation rippled up his body, climaxing in his sinuses. He cursed the gods, loathed the stars, and damned the fates as he lost control—
Celestia was in the middle of her ongoing speech: "This is your very last opportunity to change your mind. Because once you're collared—"
"A—choo!" Flash sneezed, careful to aim the outburst away from his mistress.
She blinked, completely derailed. Her fingers somehow managed not to slip their grip of the collar. "Flash? You—"
"Achoo!" he suffered again. It was a heavy sneeze to him, but—to the casual observer—it resembled a sissy field mouse squeaking from too much pollen. Finally—"Achoo!"—and he exhaled with relief, sniffling as he blushed.
"... ... ..." Celestia blinked. Slowly, a goofy grin rippled across her face. "Oh. My. Gosh. You weren't kidding...!"
Flash rubbed his nose, avoiding his gaze. "Of c-course I wasn't..."
"Heeheehee—!" Celestia chortled like a schoolgirl, rocking the bench they were on. She settled in time to smile lovingly at him. "I swear to Goddess, you're just so... sooooo adorable."
"Mrmmm..." Flash clenched his eyes shut. All his life, he had to deal with this... inexplicable curse. He wasn't a medical expert, so there was no telling if there was some sort of neurological explanation for it, but every time Flash was presented with a thickly horny situation where he knew—beyond the shadow of a doubt—that sexy times were to be had, he battled the uncontrollable urge to sneeze. It usually only lasted a moment, and then he was good to go. Nevertheless, this brought him no end of embarrassment and self-loathing, but evidently much amusement and adoration from Daybreaker, whom he had explained the "condition" to over Fuchsia. "I... I'm sorry..."
"Don't be, precious." She stroked his chin one last time. "I love it. I love you."
Flash placed his hands in his lap, looking up at her with a bashful blush. "Han Solo," he said.
Celestia snorted. "Don't ruin the moment..."
He stuck his tongue out. "And my sinuses didn't?"
"Shhh-shhh-shhh..." She booped his nose playfully. "Is it out of your system?"
Flash took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, my Queen."
She held the collar up once more, continuing where she left off: "Once you are collared—save for the use of our safe word—there will be nothing stopping me from cuddling you... from playing with you... from using you... from raping you..."
Flash's entire being jolted at that last phrase. For a moment, he was scared that he might sneeze again. But—he remained seated on her lap like a good sissy pet and simply nodded. "I understand."
"And so you have committed."
She held her breath, reached in, and wrapped the collar neatly around his neck. There was a flick of the wrist; Celestia produced a tiny key which she used to lock the choker into place.
Click.
The heart-shaped pendant swayed to a stop. The circuitry within the Indulgence device wirelessly connected with the rest of Flash's bands, and he witnessed a solid yellow ring reflected in Celestia's bright wide eyes. The color could only be further changed—for both the collar and the bands—at an Indulgence band center, with both his and his chaperone's permission. But neither of them could deny the sanctity of the line that had just been crossed, and that there was no turning back now.
For Flash, he suffered an eerie chill, both exciting and dreadful.
For Celestia, her nipples poked violently through her shirt, and she held a hand to her cheek as if to steady the outpouring of her next breath.
"And..." She wheezed, looking like she had just birthed an angel into the world. "...it's done~!" She breathed, then breathed easier. By the third exhalation, Celestia was giggling, cheeks rosy and hands clasped together like an ecstatic little grade schooler, having received a brand new kitten all tied up in a pink bow. Flash would have found it cute and silly—had there not been an even cuter and sillier soul in the room. Namely his: the source of her drunken chirps. At last, Celestia sighed, simply gazing at him with eyes full of a loving, lustful shine, and Flash felt a stirring in his heart. As if something sacred had just come to pass, and he was powerless against the flow of it. Like a sailor thrown to a tempest, at the mercy of the nearest Goddess that be. The one who had just collared him.
Part of Flash wondered exactly what came next, and he even thought of asking her. But then he realized that it didn't matter—not even remotely. Questioning it would imply that he owned a modicum of agency in the matter, which he didn't. Maybe she would tell him to kiss her, or to walk off a cliff and drown like a rock. Yes, of course, there was a safe word Flash could use to escape anything and everything, but the narrative was that he had absolutely no say whatsoever. And that was a narrative he currently bought—as she did—and it made him feel unbelievably weak. But—at the same time—unbelievably hard.
To say that he was trembling right then and there would have been an understatement, and when Celestia so much as moved her hand, Flash nearly fainted. Instead, he felt her tender and loving touch, stroking his chin and tickling the flesh of his neck above and below the collar, flicking at the dainty white lace that he could feel no matter which way his head was tilted. While the neckpiece was mercifully comfortable, there was no denying the fact that he constantly felt its presence, almost annoyingly so. Which—perhaps—was the point.
Celestia licked her lips, rosy eyes narrowing into a predatory squint. "It's done," she repeated, breathily this time, with the full implification being that—in fact—everything had just started. With strong arms, she repositioned the nineteen year old pet so that he sat astride her lap with legs dangling over her furthest knee. Flash's shoes didn't reach the ground beneath the bench in that position, and it made him feel even tinier. "How do you feel, princess?" she hummed.
A tiny breath blew out his button-nose. "I... uh... I-I feel just fine, my Queen."
Her eyes narrowed, and a painted fingernail traced the front edge of his leesh, like she was dotting a line for beheading. "An obedient pet tells the truth." A flash of ivory—sharp teeth "Tell me how you really feel."
"Uhmmm..." Flash curled his hands to his chest. The trembles of his petite figure made the heart-shaped pendant of his new collar jingle slightly. "Sc-scared, my Queen," he finally spurted.
"Hmmmmmmmmmmm..." Celestia leaned in, nibbling at Flash's neck, chin, and ear—making him gasp three times in a row. "You should be," she hissed, horrifying and arousing the young man all at once. Her face drifted in closer—if that was even possible—until Flash's eyes were filled with her lustful gaze and his nose filled with her flowery scent and his mouth filled with her tongue... for she had finally plunged in for the kill, frenching the boi hungrily as she imprisoned him there on the bench in a fierce embrace, running her hands through his hair and across his posterior and then to the sides of his face, pressing him closer and tighter as her head pivoted to devour his lips more and more and more. "Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm!!"
Flash barely had the werewithawal to squeak. Despite the romantic soul he had always boasted, the young man had little to no experience with kissing—so when Celestia's mouth assaulted his oral cavities with nymphomaniacal hunger, he could only quiver against it in a helpless stupor. There were countless nights when Flash fantasized about kissing someone—or being kissed—this passionately, but nothing had quite prepared him for how hot and... sloppy it was. His mouth was filling with an insurmountable heat, and he soon discovered that most of it was Celestia's saliva and not his. His tongue darted back and forth—like a tiny engineer trying to salvage a sinking ship—but someone else's tongue wrestled it into submission, laced with Celestia's moans and panting breaths, and Flash whimpered against it when he had no other physical recourse left... which only turned on Celestia even more and the woman's kisses somehow increased in ravenous intent, suckling at his lips and flicking at his teeth and trying to swallow his tender sissy outbursts in between.
Even before Flash knew that Daybreaker was Celestia, he realized that the soul he had fallen in love with over Fuchsia was a monumental force to be reckoned with. His tender, prissy, virgin soul just couldn't compete with the mountain of experience and finesse and confidence that the older woman possessed. Which—all things considered—was fine. Daybreaker had made it clear time and time again that she didn't desire a lover to compete with her, but rather a bottom that she could utterly crush into submission. He thought he was prepared to weather her complete authority and control.
Flash was wrong. Nothing could have prepared him for this unfathomable degree of want. The boi was being fondled and stroked all over at such an alarming rate that Flash blindly wondered if the woman had sprouted ten extra hands when he wasn't looking. Her mouth never stobbed gobbling up his lips, and he imagined that—given the opportunity—Celestia would gladly cannabalize him completely, piece by princessy piece.
Things had blurred by so quickly in the last hour—from arriving at Indulgence to the startling revelation of who Daybreaker was to this new suffocating life as a collared pet—and Flash had more than a little bit of difficulty processing it all. The chiefest hurdle his mind had to leap was that Principal Celestia—the matriarch of Canterlot High School and his most exceptionally sexy mentor of yesteryear—actually had this long and undying crush on him. But—being outright assaulted by her in open public—the sheer reality of the matter enveloped him on all sides, and he felt like he might pop at any moment... ... ...which was probably what she wanted.
So, Flash gave up. He stopped pretending like he could have any agency in the matter or exercise the pretense of being a manly lover. The collar had been affixed to his neck, the pendant locked and the covenant made. He was nothing more than Celestia's plaything. If she chose for this sissy pet to experience pleasure from the matter, that would be Her Majesty's choice. He simply had to trust her... to give everything to her... and believe that his weak and ineffectual nature wasn't a deterrant. Considering that a full two minutes had passed and she was still kissing him all over, Flash's lasping mind determined that she was more than a little bit "content" with the matter.
As for himself... well... his usually soft manhood was hard as titanium. The only thing keeping him from bursting was finally finding a way to groove with Celestia's physical rhythm.
A rhythm that she inexplicably broke... finally severing the barrage of french kisses to lean back and gaze lustily at the blushing prey in her lap. Flash—in a feverish blink—thought that a spider had nested between them. His foggy vision cleared, and it turned out that a thin ribbon of saliva dangling between their lips—lewd and flimsy—and ultimately vanishing as Celestia's mouth moved with a deep-voiced murmur:
"Pretty Princess Tinkles can and will do everything her Queen says so long as she's collared," Celestia stated. It was a declaration and not a proposal. A hand stroked through Flash's soft blue hair over and over again, and he saw the woman's eyelids flutter—almost as if she enjoyed a mini-climax from the feathery touch of his scalp alone. "Do you understand?"
Flash nodded. He gave a response—but his vocal cords didn't work at first. Clearing his throat, he wrestled a mouth still hot and dry from Celestia's invasive tongue. "Y-yes, my Queen."
Celestia leaned back, still stroking his hair over and over and over and over and—"Touch your nose with both hands."
"... ... ..." Shivering slightly, Flash didn't hesitate. He brought both sets of fingers to his flushed face.
The corner of Celestia's lips curved. "Open your mouth wide."
The young man gulped before doing what he was told. His jaw opened wide... ... ...and stayed that way. Sweating, he looked left and right as he waited, wondering if Celestia intended for him to freeze like that as the seconds dripped by.
"Now close it."
Flash did as he was told, slightly relieved.
Celestia tilted her head aside, eyes narrowing as a flicker of amusement crossed her face. "... ... ...meow like a cat."
Flash blinked.
Celestia kept staring.
"Mmmm..." Flash leaned closer, looking worriedly over his shoulder as a trilling sound rose up his throat, and—in an adorably juvenile tone—he parrotted the sound ingrained into his mind since preschool. "Meow...? Mrowww. Rowwwwwwr..."
Celestia giggled incessantly, patting her pet's head. "Now. Lean up. Give me an eskimo kiss."
"...!" Flash perked up, eyes bedazzled. He lifted as much as his petite self could in the woman's lap and brought his face evenly with her. Leaning in, he rubbed noses with her, delighting in her scent.
"Heeheehee..." Celestia rubbed his nose back, then—with a gentle push—she sat him back evenly across her lap. "Now..." Her hands stroked the back of his collar before settling on his shoulder. "...loud and clear so everyone around us can hear, say 'Come watch this pretty sissy princess get fondled.'"
Flash's eyes twitched. His pupils shrank as he stared at his mistress in horror. In the central eye of his hurricane horniness, a startled heart washed over with ice. The paralysis must have lasted far longer than he realized, for Celestia's smile was briefly replaced with a frown.
"Do as your queen says, pet," she hammered. The barest hint of a growl.
"Mmmmm..." Flash felt a pit of nausea rising up his throat. He squirmed, shook, and eventually released: "C-come watch th-this pretty sissy princess g-get fondled—"
"Louder," Celestia gunshott'd, brow furrowing beneath the ominous brim of her hat. "You will attract a crowd, sissy. This isn't even remotely open to debate."
Flash's tiny manhood twitched. He sniffled, feeling his eyes watering as every meager inch of his psyche fought the matter, but...
...he obeyed. "Come... C-Come watch this pretty sissy princess get fondled...!" he exclaimed, voice cracking.
"Repeat it," Celestia hummed, bringing a hand down to his ass. Squezing. Hard.
"Please...!" Flash felt like hyperventilating, but the only thing keeping him steady was the weight of his voice being thrown. "Come watch this pretty sissy princess get fondled!" Already, he could see faces glancing, bodies turning, and eyebrows raising in a thickening halo around the bench. "Come watch this pretty sissy get fondled."
"Mmmmmmmm..." Celestia leaned in, kissing his sweaty forehead. "...that's more like it, my pet."
"Heyyyyyyyyy," a handsome man shuffled up alongside two similar looking beefcakes. "What do we have here?"
"Oh gosh!" a college-aged girl gasped in adoration at the sight of the two. "What an adorable collar!"
"Whoah... now that's a catch!" A half-naked musclehead smirked approvingly at Celestia. "Way to go, hotness~"
"Mmmmm. I dunno." Celestia pouted, resonating with a playful tone Flash had never heard from her before—but was more than certain he'd have to get used to. "She seems kind of small to me." The Principal of CHS winked playfully at the gathering crowd of half-naked Indulgence guests who had come to answer the sissy summons. "Still... she does yelp like a songbird." Immediately upon saying that, one of Celestia's wandering hands pinched Flash's left nipple beneath his shirt.
"Aaaaaaaaiiieeee!" Flash cried, writhing in Celestia's grasp.
Women giggled. Couples cooed. A few men growled lustily.
"So I think I'll keep 'er," Celestia said, leaning in to kiss Flash's panting neck. As more and more people watched, her hands wandered faster and faster, showing off her complete and utter posession of the boi in her grasp. "Besides... heehee... I'm not sure she can tread water on her own~"
"Hot dayum," one guest exclaimed, eyes wide as he looked Flash up and down. "Were they also selling cradles where you snatched this twink?"
"Oh right." Others spoke from within the forming audience. "I forgot about that. They lowered the minimal Indulgence attendance age by two years."
"Actually three years."
"Holy shit! Are we looking at this Getaway's Babe In the Woods??"
"Heh... gotta be! That's the first third-bracelet I've seen all morning!"
"I don't think this cherub's any older than eighteen!"
"Actually..." Celestia leaned in to nuzzle Flash's cheek from behind. She threw a proud wink at those gawking. "...this little princess is nineteen years and four months." She stroked a naughty hand upppppppp the narrow of Flash's trembling fanny, summoning a breathy moan from the boi. "But—yes—I do believe I've found this season's Lost Lamb. And so have you!"
"'Princess?'" A young woman giggled, sending a flutter to Flash's heart through the sheer heat of this dubiously consensual exhibition. "What an adorable prize for sure! Heeheehee...! But she's not dressed very girly, is she?"
"Ah... that's just the thing..." Celestia wiggled her eyebrows devilishly, then lowered her hands to Flash's sides. "Her Majesty's Pretty Princess Tinkles does everything her queen tells her to. And—if she's been a good little pet, then she's prepared a treat for me—a treat that I'm willing to share with everyone!" She nuzzled Flash's ear, meanwhile gripping the lower edges of his sweatshirt. "Lift your arms, my treasure."
Flash whimpered, his pained eyes locked on the faces, faces, faces locked on him—hungrily waiting for what happened next.
"Do as you're told~" Celestia said. "Go on. That's right. Lift those dainty prissy arms of yours~"
Flash bit his lip. Trembling—he nevertheless obeyed, raising his arms above his tousled blue head. With little effort at all, Celestia swiftly lifted the hoodie off his upper body like a magician would rid a dinner table of its cloth. A white t-shirt with Flash's lightning-shield totem lingered underneath.
"Ohhhhhhh, sweetie...~" Celestia chuckled, dropping the hoodie onto the side of the bench while grasping the bottom hem of his shirt. "You're such a tease. Now—show us all your true sissy self~"
Off too went the shirt, and the air filled with giggles, chuckles, and snirks. The collectively feminine half of the group joined together in a dreamy chorus, clicking their tongues and melodically cooing. A few of the men whistled and clapped their hands at the half-naked boi before him.
Except he wasn't exactly half-naked. Beneath Flash's shirt and hoodie—clinging to his tender nipples like a secret skin—was a pastel pink camisole. It had narrow shoulder straps laced with lavender frills, and the lower hem had a translucent layer of even softer pink accents. If that wasn't sissy enough, the commercial-perfect Disney likenesses of Princess Rapunzel, Tiana, Anna, and Elsa were felicitously brandished across the feminine article's bust. The intimate clothing was far too large and too adult in size for what was "obviously" its target demographic, suggesting a great deal of custom work being made to fit Flash and Flash alone.
Which was most definitely the case. Celestia—Daybraker herself—had procured and mailed the clothing specifically to Flash's home so that he'd have the specially-fitted article ready to wear upon their rendezvous at Indulgence. It was a one-of-a-kind outfit, and quite expensive to commission, which both flustered and humbled Flash to no end. It wasn't too hard for him to prove to be a very obedient boi... but then he earned extra extra credit for having applied a lavender and vanilla bathwash to his petite person overnight—in two separate doses—so that once his feminine top was exposed... along with the soft skin lying goosepimpled underneath... his mistress would get a good long whiff of the princess pet's prissy fragrance. And knowing how big Daybreaker was on olfactophilia...
"Mmmmmmmmmm Goddess..." Celestia hissed at the culmination of a long and indulgent inhale of the boi's upper neck and shoulders. She hugged Flash tenderly from behind—giving him a big teddy bear squeeze—and rubbing her hands playfully along the frilly edges of the girly-girly camisole. "...you're everything a queen could dream of, Tinkles~" She stroked a few hands up and underneath the boi's princessy top-piece, making him gasp and squirm with a flushed expression. Pressing her tongue to her teeth, Celestia grinned at everyone in the crowd like a bratty teenager absorbing the spotlight of her own birthday party. "Isn't she just the dreamiest?"
"Ohhhhhhhh gosh gosh gosh...~" A young woman drifted in, eyes starry as she gushed and drooled over the sissy. She had to have been only two or three years older than Flash, which somehow embarrassed the poor boi even more. But her genuine cuteness won the flustered sub over as she drifted in, looking pleadingly at Celestia. "She's sooooo cute! I just have to give her a kiss!" Two hands clasped beneath her chin. "Pleeeeeease?"
Celestia waggled her eyebrows, tilting Flash slightly towards the edge of the bench. "Free of charge~" she purred. "The only price is your envy..."
"Eee-ee-ee..." The girl leaned in, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips to Flash's mouth with the feather-softest of contact. For as safe and respectful the gesture was, she nevertheless hovered there—lips to Flash's lips—for a very long time. No doubt she got two fair nostrils full of lavender and vanilla. "Mmmmmmmmmmm-hmm-hmm-hmm...!" She eventually broke the kiss with a giggle, cupping her cheek and beaming. "It's like making out with a candy store~"
"Here. I gotta have a taste." A much taller, more buxom woman lightly pushed the first damsel away and kissed Flash multiple times—each humming oral treatise proving longer and more succulent than the last. "Mmmmm-fuck..." She leaned back, if only to reach a hand up and caress the trembling face of the breathless boi. "This has to be th is year's Babe in the Woods for sure. Just look at that fuckkin' virgin gaze."
"Alright..." A mountain of a man lumbered in, blotting out the morning sun with his stubbled smolder. "Guess I'd better get a piece of history here."
"OoooooOooo..." Celestia stifled a snicker, shoving Flash's head forward and into that wall of masculinity. "Do we have a Prince Charming?"
"I ain't here to rescue her~" And the man gripped Flash's chin savagely, forcing a yelp from the boi—a yelp that was soon swallowed by his carnivorous jaw latching onto Flash's face at an angle, shoving in a tongue that penetrated, explored, and dominated the sissy's quivering oral cavities. Flash whimpered several more times—which evidently fed something primal within the man, for he growled like a wolf as each second persisted that he suffocated Celestia's pet with passion. The man even went as far as to lower a free hand and fondle his own stiffening bulge beneath his jogging shorts, essentially pleasuring himself at the hapless sissy's expense.
If this was any other civilized spot on earth, there'd be people yelping and citizens calling the cops. But this was Indulgence—and Flash was wearing a yellow band, much like his collar—and everyone in attendance "oooh'd" and "ahhhhh'd" while this perfect testosteronical stranger used Celestia's pet as a masturbatory tool. The CHS Principal in question purred and could be seen squeezing her own breast for at least half of the magical moment's duration.
Flash—however—couldn't see her. He could only see stars—all of them serenaded by the man's hot and breathy groans being aimed down his neck. His poor nose was filled with the scent of manly musk and sweat, and the edges of his face burned from the scrape of the attendee's abrasive stubble. And yet—Flash was in a hellish kind of heaven, his heart leaping every time he heard a moan or groan from the beastly stranger devouring him, reveling in the fact that his timid sissy self could bring so much pleasure to something so large.
When it sounded as if the attendee was about to reach a climax, the man backed off with a hissing growl, releasing both Flash and his own erection. Through clenched teeth, the man seethed: "Fuck me, I love these goddamn fairy twinks. Hey Mistress." He smirked Celestia's way as his hardon evidently lingered in his shorts, like booster rocket floating beneath velvet waves. "Think you'll bring this bitch on board the yachts before the Getaway's over? I got a few friends who would love to test if the little minx can float."
"That depends on how kindly you ask~" Celestia chimed.
"Uh huh? And what if we don't give a shit?"
Celestia stuck her tongue out. "Then maybe you'll get to fuck her faster!"
The crowd chuckled. Smirking, the man saluted and walked off—stiffly.
"More! More! More!" a girl chanted.
"Let's see if all of 'em is 'princessy!'" another guest chanted.
"Way ahead of you...!" Celestia spoke in a perky tone, as if she was showing off her school campus to the district superintendant. Instead, she was about to disrobe her submissive sex slave before a drooling pool of horny onlookers. "I haven't even begun to unwrap my present...!" She kissed Flash's cheek, then his ear, then whispered: "Ease up, sweetie. Lift those shapley legs with me. That's a good girl..."
Flash didn't fight her. He was beyond the point of resistance. He was beyond his own limits of perception at this juncture—neither transcendant or deevolved. He had been stripped of so much agency and masculinity and strength that he felt like a limp strip of lace thrown before the wind, blowing every which way Celestia's fingers—or words—conveyed him. He was devastated by all the strength and willpower that he had lost. Or—that is—he believed that he should have been devastated, that a tragedy was unfolding, that he was being presented to a deviant niche of the public eye as a prissy trollop, fetishized and objectified. And yet—if this was a tragedy—why was it making him so damn hard? And why did he feel so excited for finding out just how much more perverted this entire scenario could get?
He should have felt horrible. And yet—he didn't. He hungered for more, and knowing that he should have been ashamed over each layer of decency that was being stripped for him only made his heart flutter all the more. In the back of his mind, Flash felt the two syllables forming: "Trousers." It was his escape, his salvation. All he had to do was was say it—breathe it—out loud. That, or "verdant." Or—if he couldn't summon the voice—he could just press the knobs on his bracelet in quick succession like Ms. Starlight had taught him back in the office, and members of security would come running to stop Celestia if "Her Majesty" didn't have the strength to stop herself.
But—Flash refused to give in to any of those merciful acts of departure from this moment. The young man had been building up a bubbling froth of need and desire and tension all his young life—an agonizing, stressful, and overtly sanctified form of anxiety, supported by self-doubt and glued together by melancholy. Then—out of the blue, or perhaps the pink—he had thrown his mind and balls deep into Fuchsia. It was a journey instigated by desire—set upon the path towards desire. And while it had come to Flash's understanding that Daybreaker/Celestia had a heavy, guiding hand in all of that, the journey nevertheless brought him towards this moment, the first tumbling domino of his ill-fated virginity, and the beginning of a seven day long Getaway of release.
And release, Flash did, sniffling and quivering. He cried delicately—like the delicate flower princess that he was—as Celestia effortlessly yanked his shoes and jeans off, exposing his perfectly-shaved, hairless legs to the public... and the adorable nexus where his milky thighs met—a pair of baby pink panties with lavender lace trim. Just like the camisole, three juvenile mascots graced the front of the pastel undies: Ariel, Cinderella, and Belle. They looked so happy and sweet and flowery that it made for a tonally shocking contrast to the gently sobbing male specimen sporting them. Or—perhaps—it was the absolute most complementary blend of emotions, given the inespicably sissy nature of Flash's adorable veneer. And—as it would seem—the audience Celestia had gathered were perfectly in-tune with the moment.
"Awwwwwwwwwww~!!"
"But of course she'd be wearing undies like that!"
"Heeheehee!"
"Such an adorable little sissy princess~"
"Oh don't cry~"
"You're absolutely beautiful, sweetie~!"
"You don't have to cry~"
"But look!" A woman giggled, pointing straight at Flash's pantied crotch. "She's crying in two places~"
Flash sniffled, throwing his gaze towards the sky. There was no sense in hiding what the woman was referring to. As more people giggled and chuckled and cheered, something tiny, delicate, and most decidedly leaking made a noticeable twitch beneath the princessy fabric of those panties. A saturated wet spot of pre-cum formed a slightly translucent band across the combined faces of Ariel, Cinderella, and Belle—no doubt brought upon by Flash's constant arousal over the past hour or so.
"Hmmmmmm..." Celestia smiled wickedly. "I think you've found my little pet's secret." She winked and hugged Flash tightly from behind. "She's always crying... at least down there." Her womanly hand snaked down, traced the subtle curve of the boi's balls, and squeezed its way teasingly up the pantied stiffness. "Isn't that right, Tinkles?" She kissed Flash's neck multiple times—in conjunction with her gentle caresses.
"Unhh—!" Flash squirmed all over, his legs spreading—which only gave the audience an even better, more lurid shot of his girlishly-wrapped crotch. As Celestia stroked and fondled him, that wet spot across the cartoon faces spread further, drenching those princessy smiles. The boi was so unabashedly aroused—and so unabashedly exposed for being aroused—that every breath hitched in his voice as more and more helpless sobs squeezed from his vocal cords. "Guhhhh... m-my Queen...!"
"Mmmmmm..." Celestia took another whiff of his perfumed neck and hair, practically huffing the submissive specimen. "My Pretty Princess Tinkles~"
"Heeheehee!" An onlooker giggled. "You certainly came up with a good name for her!"
"She didn't need much help 'coming' up with it," Celestia said with a wink. "In fact..." She massaged and tickled Flash's nethers through the increasingly wet undies. "...I think something else is about to come up pretty soon..."
"Mmmm—!" Flash twitched and writhed as if he was being electrified by jumper cables.
But it was just his mistress' gentlest of touches to his holiest of holies. "Hmmm? What's the matter, my pet? Is Her Majesty's Pretty Princess Tinkles going to make cummies in her pretty panties?" She leaned in, kissing and nuzzling the reddened face of the squirmy creature in her grasp. "Oh, what an unbecoming thing for a princess to do in front of so many people! But you just can't help yourself, can you? So much tender sweetness all locked up in that sissy little body of yours~" She gave his soft bulge another squeeze, causing Flash to yelp as she plastered his neck with motherly kisses. "Someone so precious has absolutely no business trying to keep all that happiness locked up inside. And Her Majesty's Pretty Princess Tinkles is a happy little pet, isn't she?"
Flash was hyperventilating at his point, his mouth hung open like so many anime girls in hentai comics he'd randomly consume on the Internet. He couldn't tell if he was subconsciously imitating art or if art was imitating life or if he was just fucking desperate to reach an ecstatic end to this lewd pageantry. He stared a million miles beyond the grinning, gawking faces of the people watching his exposed sissyhood. The perfume of his former school principal turned domme—combined with the girlish scents of his own immaculate skin exposed to the morning air—was throwing him down a maelstrom of hot horny sensory overload. Tears streamed down his young face, and he felt a crest coming—followed by an inevitable drop that he wasn't certain he could climb back from... or was supposed to.
"It's okay, sweetie." Celestia toyed and tugged and shifted at his turgid sissihood beneath the pastel fabric. "Let it go, my pet. Heeheehee—it's alright. Your princess friends will catch your cummies for you! Won't that be fun~?"
"Oooh! Oooh!" An onlooker smiled. "Aim it at her favorite!"
"OooOoooh..." Celestia licked her lips in amusement. She hummed into Flash's bloodshot ear lobe. "Which one is that again? Her Majesty knows, of course~ But be a dear and show our friends, sweetie~"
"Mmmm-mmm...!" Flash bit his lip, sweating and heaving.
Meanwhile, Celestia pushed and kneaded his crotch, causing a tiny-tiny wand to shift under the fabric towards a redheaded mermaid, then towards a French peasant beauty, then towards a blonde in a blue gown and wearing a shiny tiara in the center—
"Uhhhh—!" Flash trembled all over, his voice raising in octaves, girlish and unrehearsed in its spastic sincerity. "U-Uhhhhh—!!!"
"Heeee!" cheered a guest. "We have a winner!"
"Dead center!" a dude laughed. "Stroke of midnight!"
"Unnnhhh—!" Flash cried, his body starting to undulate against Celestia's firm grip. His sensitive member twitched rhythmically in its pastel prison. "Uhhh—Deedee...~"
"Tell our new friends what a pretty princess you are~" Celestia nuzzled his ear, fondling him faster and harder while her other hand wrapped around and assaulted a nipple under his camisole. "Say 'I'm a Pretty Princess' as you cum. Do it now—for your Queen. Cum and say it now. Now, my pet. Now."
"Uhhh-huhhhhhh...~" Flash sobbed, tears streaming. His eyes rolled back as he surrendered to the beauty of the moment. Slutty. Cute. Sacred. Dirty. Pretty. Hot. Hot. The universe collapsed, sank into him, and bloomed outward through an infinitesimal pinhole of painful pleasure at the foundation of his sacral chakra. He broke rapturously under the thunderous implosion of it all, and a warm river of milk spilled through the gates, carrying with it a song as he soaked his panties. "I'm a Pretty Princess~! I'm a Pretty Princess~! I'm a Pretty Princesssssss~~!!"
For all of the monumental force rolling through Flash's nethers—and his blissful euphoria upon the peak of his orgasm—the reality of the matter was that only a tiny trickle of filmy boijuice dribbled from his meager member, pasting and saturating Cinderella's immaculate visage from the inside out with torturously sweet slowness. He writhed and whimpered the entire time, and it was soon rather obvious that he would be squirming for an even longer time. Because—true to his innate sissiness—Flash's ejaculation was a long, emotional, and intricately girlish experience, and the only person expressing more joy than him at that tender moment was the woman cradling the boi as he drenched himself adorably before the crowd.
"Oh... oh sweet Goddess..." Celestia briefly broke character, cupping a shaking hand over her squeaking lips as she gazed with wide eyes at her pet's lengthy episode. "Oh... oh it's even cuter than I imagined...~" She sniffled, dried a tear just as it formed, then threw her dominant veneer back on before hugging Flash deeply from behind. "That's it, princess. That's right. Just let it all out—let it alllllll out for your Queen."
"Muhhhhhhhhhh—!" Flash arched his spine, eyes rolling back. His little hips gave two meager thrusts—as if he was desperate to hump the sky—and his spasming manhood endured an orgasmic aftershot or two, affording quantifiable spurts... one of which actually managed to pierce the filmy fabric of the princessy panties, exposing a droplet of sissy milk to the tingling air. "Ahhhh-haaaaaaaa..." He slumped back against Celestia's bosomy embrace, sobbing as he finally... finally began his breathy glide back down the crest of that brilliant peak. "Hhhhhhuu... hhhhhhhssshh... fuuuuu..."
"Awwwwwwwwww~~!"
"Heeheeheehee—sooooo much milk!"
"So cuuuuuuute..."
"Fuck that's hot..."
"Who'd have thought that such a tender princess would have so much stored in those little balls of hers?"
"Yaaaaaay!! Three cheers for Princess Tinkles!"
"Hip hip—hooray!"
"Hooraaaay!"
The audience laughed, giggled, and applauded. Poor Flash was still twitching—and leaking—as random attendees occasionally lined up and took turns kissing and nuzzling the boi's sweaty, pleasure-glazed face. A few even paused to invite a kiss from Celestia—who gladly acquiesced. Any and all who stuck around for the conclusion of the lurid scene were more than abundantly awarded, and almost all faces of those present were smiling contentedly—as if true princess magic had blessed them on this most beautiful morning.
And it was just the First Day of the Getaway.
Eventually, there'd be a sober surfacing from this bliss. It was Celestia who took point, gazing over her shoulder at the line of cottages, then taking a deep breath as she prepared for the next phase of erotic abandon. She was more aroused than ever; her nipples threatened to poke holes through her shirt. Before making the next move, she reached down—scooped a surviving bead of semen from the outer tent of Flash's panties—and brought it to his pursed, panting lips.
"Suckle, sweetie~" Celestia purred. "And soon we'll be off. Her Majesty simply can't wait anymore."
Flash—in a daze—wrapped his lips around her finger in a natural act of obedience. His eyes closed as he tasted himself. Truth be told, it wasn't the first time the experimental young man had done so. Many erotic dares shared between himself and Daybreaker over the past few months had led him to do superemely naughty things in the comfort of his own bedroom/bathroom. Such exercises always tasted bitter then, but somehow the horny act of Communion this time carried a dazzling sweetness. This—more than anything—convinced Flash that he was a new being, a beautiful butterfly birthed at Indulgence.
And from the strengthening grip of the woman cradling him, Flash got the distinct impression that this butterfly was soon to get pinned.
"Ladies and gentlemen..." Celestia had gathered Flash's clothes and slung them loosely over her shoulder. "...it's been an absolute pleasure..." The tall domme expertly gathered Flash's bag and guitar case with one arm. "...but this Queen simply can't fritter about any longer." She stood up from the bench, effortlessly bridal-carrying the limp and still-trembling sissy in her grasp. With a smirk that was both devilish and horny—she motioned towards the cottages just beside the nearby treeline. "I'm off to absolutely destroy this little babe's virginity~ So, if you'll kindly excuse me." She turned and marched off at a brisk pace. "When you see us next, I'll be more inclined to share~"
The air filled with charismatic applause. One would think that the president had just heroically announced the defeat of invading aliens. Instead, it was a merry band of Indulgence attendees clapping and whistling and waving happily at the departing pair.
"That was beautiful~!"
"Have fun, Pretty Princess Tinkles~!"
"You're sooooooo cute!"
"Enjoy yourself~!"
"Fuck 'em up, hotness!"
"Snrkkt—Hahahahaha!"
"Woohoo!"
Flash—a dizzy and delirious pet still high from the orgasm (which hadn't entirely stopped yet)—could only nod and smile numbly at the appreciative crowds. As the faces thinned out, he became aware of his near-naked state, clad in princessy lingerie—the lower half of which was utterly soiled in boimaiden milk. Shivering, he clung to the only soul that mattered, the same soul he was completely at the mercy of.
The soul that was undoubtedly about to crush him into faerie dust.
"Stay awake, pet," Celestia's throat rolled. Her nostrils flared. Her grip of him tightened as she bee-lined for one singular structure among the cottages. "You're not yet done crying."

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                The Princess and Her Queen                 
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Author's Note
https://camo.fimfiction.net/NfLV1ZVMjxN1pgGpariPSdLViXGQGHGZPvH-7W1wBwo?url=https%3A%2F%2Fderpicdn.net%2Fimg%2Fview%2F2017%2F12%2F18%2F1610498.gif
~Sissy Honeymoon, Stage Right~
Tags For This Chapter: Passionate Sex, Heavy Petting and Kissing, Stripping, Feminization, Pet Play, Older Domme and Younger Sub, Small Penis Humiliation, Panty Sniffing/Play, Breast Play, Masturbation, Fellatio, Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Dirty Pr0n Sex Talk, Feminine Squirting, Tearful Orgasms, Cuddles, MenWritingWomenSubreddit, and the kitchen sink... in a pink dress(?)
The Princess and Her Queen
Flash Sentry barely caught the details of the cottage that Celestia had rented out in tiny boi-blink glimpses. He would make a more proper assessment much later—after better opportunities to observe his surroundings while not obscured by the drunken haze of pure and unmitigated horniness. It was a rustic white thing, polished and round-shaped like a toadstool, with a dark brown "cap" of a shingled rooftop to complete the look. At a foggy glance, Flash thought it resembled a random villager's house from Animal Crossing, assuming that the game was Rated AO and the interior was designed for passionate porking.
Looking back on this most sacred threshholding, Flash could scarcely recall the specifics. His sissy stem of a penis was still twitching within the soiled confines of his princess panties, and the faces and smiles of the audience his "Queen" had gathered still burned felicitously in his retinae. By the time he came to, he could see Celestia ruthlessly stab, poke, and maul the lock of the cottage's door handle with a jangling mess of keys. She wasn't very successful at her current objective of unlocking their personal nest—which wasn't exactly something to laugh at. All things considered—between shouldering Flash's belongings and bridal carrying the nearly-naked young man at the same time—the tall domme was managing wonderfully in spite of all the proverbial plates being spun.
She certainly wasn't pleased with herself at the moment: "Come on. Come on!" She hissed and grunted, shoving and knifing the key at the lock, feverish and desperate. "Shit. Fuck! Get... getttttt cunt-punt'd, fuckin' prickin' sonuva—" At last, the key lodged in place, and the clicking sound that resulted drew veritable flowers and rainbows from the CHS Principal's rising chest. "Ohhhhhhh puppies yessssss..." Huffing, puffing, everything-but-drooling, she cradled Flash even tighter to her chest as she swung the door open with her foot and practically pirouetted the two of them blissfully inside.
Flash blinked blearily. It was dark inside; a smidge of ambient amber lighting kissed the interiors, but not much more. Flash instantly smelled a pungent deluge of floral scents, which was how he knew that Celestia had settled down in that place hours before returning there with her pantied prize in tow. He was vaguely aware of a bathroom, a seating area, and a kitchenette. But—for the most part—the circular interior of the place was almost entirely consumed by opulent silky "bedspace." Despite the luxurious furnishing, the cottage felt small on the inside... in a very cozy way.
Small enough that—from the front door—Celestia could easily toss the boi and land him on the bed in one motion. Which is exactly what she did.
"Aaackies!" Flash yelped and flailed—meanwhile his petite figure harmlessly pomf'd onto the springy center of the plush bedspread.
Clack! The front door locked, and for a brief eternity Flash's domme stood there at the entrance, her face flushed and her breasts heaving upon a penultimate plunge. In three gallant steps, Celestia thudded Flash's belongings to the floor, tossed her hat towards the bathroom, and fell forward—fell on Flash.
He gasped—and she devoured it. Devoured him. Her body—hot and heavy and smelling of musky sunflowers—draped majestically across the boi, slinking entirely over him like a weighted blanket with enough curves and bumps to afford Flash scant bursts of oxygen between her hungry gropes, slathering kisses, and stroking hands-hands-hands. Celestia said absolutely nothing at first; she could scarcely respirate—only fondle, grapple, assault.
It was an assault. A one-way barrage of horny-beyond-horny handstrokes, magnified by the sheer magnitude of the dominant woman's weight pressed down upon her prey, as she unleashed every blinding bolt of energy pent up inside her hot shapely body after months—maybe years—of utterly desiring this slight doll of a man. Flash Sentry shook and quivered in fright under each stroke, but—in the few sacred moments he afforded full breaths—he could only moan in desire at... being so damnably desired.
And the barest squeaks of him only urged Celestia on even hotter, so that her moans echoed his moans and her panting mirrored his panting and the two of them raised the temperature of the perfumed room by five degrees in the span of thirty drooling seconds. There was a solid century of Celestia running her fingers deliciously through-and-through-and-through Flash's feathery blue hair, all the while latching her mouth over his, her tongue fishing for nineteen-year-old uvulae. At the tail-end of this, she raised her head—and body—in a grunt of frustration and purpose.
"St-Starswirl," she rasped, yanking—almost ripping—her jacket off in a pastel blur. She sat atop Flash, straddling his poor little legs, wearing a violet shirt that was sweated through her pretty feminine pits. "Starswirl," she growled, more solidly this time. A chime echoed across the cottage, and Flash's bloodshot periphery caught an array of blinking computer lights set into the wall of the rent-a-house. "Brighten the room by fifty percent."
The amber lighting intensified, bringing a shine to the boi's golden-toned flesh that was too perfect to be pure coincidence. But Flash couldn't observe much—it wasn't his place to see at the moment. With her meal fully illuminated, Celestia dove on him again, kissing and nuzzling the boi all over, panting against his skin, soaking his virginal goosebumps with lady sweat right as they formed in delighted ripples across his bronzed skin.
"Yesssssssss," Celestia wolf-growled, anointing his collar, neck, chin, nose, and forehead with hungrier and hungrier kisses. "Fuckkin' YES." The only thing moving faster than her hands were her lungs, hyperventilating from the sheer magnitude of this moment becoming real, embodied in the body quivering helplessly beneath her. "Flash..." Flash's old high school principal rolled on top of him, tugging once again at his hair, gobbling up an ear and sending him spinning from the heavenly surreality of it all. "Flash..." She stroked her hands up and down his back before reaching his ass cheeks with both palms, squeezing hard... then harder as she let loose a long earthy groan of pure victory. Triumph "Mrmmmmmmmmmm—I've waited for this moment for so long... for so fucking long—Flash—you have no IDEA."
Flash didn't know how to respond. Perhaps he didn't have to. Celestia leaned back, and Flash felt his petite body being tugged upwards in turn. With a magician's flicking finesse, Celestia ridded him of his princess camisole, exposing the boi's delicious flat chest to the amber heavens. She wasted no time, shoving him back down to that plush dinner plate of a bed and collapsing upon him once again, her breasts smooshing firmly into his lower abdomen as she swept her way up his chest, kissing and salivating over his diamond-hard nipples... then giving his pearlescent sternum a long and sensuous lick.
"Unnnfff!" Flash Sentry dripped—which was precisely what Celestia wanted, and she inched further up the boy... and that same lecherous tongue licked up his neck and off his chin—followed by further wet lashes to his cheek and face and eyes—sampling the saline remnants of his orgasmic tears from earlier. "Aaaah—!" Flash whimpered, convulsing all over. Being "dined on" in such a way was borderline digusting. It filled him with disgust, and he couldn't have been even happier. He yelped and cried even more, egging Celestia on, hoping against hope that this horny nymph of a woman would lick him forever.
Thankfully, she was a far more creative lover than that.
"Mmmmmmm—Canterlot High's secret angel..." She slid her tall figure alongside his petite body, spooning him on the bed from behind. "The Fall Formal Princess we never crowned..." A gentle hand reached down to caress his sperm-soaked panties, toying and tickling his still-hard fairy wand. "Sing for me..." Her hand cupped his balls between his legs. "Let me hear my pretty bird chirp~" At that precise moment, her palm stopped being "gentle," squeezing like a velvet vice.
"Aaa-aaaah~~!" Flash Sentry harmonized, reaching high notes with every little difficulty. A shockwave of pins and needles shot up from his groin and electrified his whole nervous system. Once again, a two-syllable word of emergency flickered in the far corners of his mind, but he ignored it—choosing instead to be patient for his mistress. Choosing instead—"Aaaah—Nuhhhh!" He tossed his head back and forth as the older woman dealt his softness so roughly.
"Mmmmm-yessssss..." She leaned in and licked-licked the fresh tears rolling down his face "Goddess, I fucking love it when you cry~" She released her punishing grip, choosing instead to roll Flash over until he was facing her, upon which she lathered a fresh array of kisses all over his moistened face. "Give me those precious tears. Give me everything, Flash Sentry." Huffing—puffing—she sat up once more, pivoted him effortlessly across the bed, and stretched his dainty legs out. "Give me your all...!"
Flash suddenly felt a gust of cold air kiss his nethers. A high-pitched gasp. He swiftly flung two hands down and covered his groin—blushing furiously.
In one fell yank, Celestia had stripped him of those adorable princess panties. She clutched the tangled, soiled article of pastel goodness in her hand, staring at it with hot-and-heavy eyes. Hesitation—hellishly hungry. After several panting breaths, she brought the underwear to her nose and took a long, hearty sniff of her sissy pet—both his perfumed outsides and milky insides—all the while reaching a hand down and fingering an increasing patch of wetness staining across the seat of her dark denim shorts.
"Hmmmmmmmmm—yshhhhhhhhh..." Overcome with pure lust, Celestia took the opportunity to suckle a patch of the soiled underwear, hoping to savor as much of Flash's essence that still lingered within the cartoon printed fabric. Her spare hand worked with extra gusto, dipping five hungry fingers inside her bottoms and stroking her bare pussy with reckless abandon.
She carried on for a little too long, and had to tear herself out of her special little moment. The woman's vision readjusted, seeing the squirmy sissy lying across the bed beneath her. Celestia's rosy eyes traced over Flash's hands demurely covering his privates, and a coy grin spread across her flushed face.
"Sweetie..." She put the undies away and crawled over until she loomed lovingly over him. "...really, now??" She draped a hand across his blushing cheek, her voice taking on a considerably friendlier tone than the hungry lioness that was consuming him just seconds ago. "There'll be time for teasing later. Let me see it, princess."
"Mmmm..." Flash bit his bottom lip, looking left... looking right... everywhere but at her—
—until a strong hand gripped his chin, smooshing his adorable cheeks and forcing him to lock eyes with his mistress.
"Your Queen gave you a command." Her eyes burned with that same dangerous lust that neverceasingly energized Flash's palpitating heart. "I've waited so long. Now—let me have it all."
A tiny whimper escaped the boi's face. Meekly, he unfolded his hands... then let them drape at his sides. Thus, his sensitive little member was exposed completely to his lover for the first time—apart from the digital veneer of computer screens and image files.
And Principal Celestia—secretly "Daybreaker" for Flash Sentry all of these months—reacted just the way he had both feared and desired all these months. At first she smiled—a very sisterly tongue-in-cheek smile. Then a snort came out of her nose... followed by another.
"Snkkt... Snrrrkkk—ha ha ha ha ha!" She laughed, her lower eyelids rounding with pure girlish amusement as she cupped two hands to her cheeks. All the while, she gawked at it... snickered at it... giggled and chortled and wheezed at the pathetic sight of it. "Haaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha! Heeheehee!"
Flash's body did inside-out flips, sinking into a cold abyss and leaping to a humid peak all at once. He felt something oozing weakly inside him, a fuzzy stretch beyond nausea, and it pressed him harder down into the bed with unworldly gravity. Paralyzed, he could only lie there and shake as Celestia's snickers and cackles mercilessly continued.
"Hehehehehe—oh Flassssssh..." Celestia brushed her bangs aside and leaned over his lower half, her eyes locked on his groin like a soccer mom might admire a newborn puppy. "It's just soooooooooooooo adorable. I mean—the pictures were one thing, but here and now... ... ..." Her tongue clicked against her tongue for a few prolonged seconds, and she ultimately spat into her palm. "Snrkkkkkkkk!!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Flash felt his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers dug into the sheets behind him as his tender toes squirmed, kneading into the fabric as Celestia continued to gape and giggle.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh it's such a good thing you and Sunset never truly got together again~" She tip-toed her fingers across his dicklette, and even at full erection the Principal's hand-puppet only needed to take two-and-a-half steps. She giggled again. "Ohhhhhh sweetie you simply could never please a woman with an adorable little clitty like that~! You wouldn't even come close~! It'd be just like a hummingbird feather trying to pierce the Hoover Dam~! Ah ha ha ha ha!"
Flash sniffled. He raised two hands to his face and shuddered, fresh tears forming. As horribly cruel as this instance seemed—it did the absolute opposite of "killing the mood." Several long and lurid conversations with Daybreaker had fully-prepared the two of them for this. Flash was indeed very "small" in the pendulum department. However, had long lost any legitimate interest in proving the "virility" of his manhood, and he only sought to plunge as deep as he could into that sissy pink niche that the two of them had carved together online.
Daybreaker—Celestia—had remembered this to the keenest detail, and the only reason Flash didn't outright thank her was that he was too busy playing his part—a part that his body ultimately reveled in, humiliated or not. The boi's blue eyes fogged over with bittersweet moisture—but that wasn't all. As he cried, Flash felt a pool of sissy warmth loosening in his nethers, and the peehole tip of his "clitty" was dribbling enough joyous release to rival the exhibitionist torture he had endured moments ago outside the cottage.
"Awwwwwwwwww... see?" Celestia cooed, leaning down until Flash felt her hot breath oozing over his even hotter river of pre-cum. "She likes it! What an adorable sissy clitty—and so unafraid to show how happy she is!" Two of her fingers "diddled" the sensitive undertip of Flash's sissyhood—like a lesbian toying with her lover—and it summoned more than a few tender gasps from the wet-wet pet. "Hey there, girlfriend~" Celestia sang to the shameless micro-penis. "Want to invite Princess Tinkles out to play? What say we make her as happy as you? Hmmm?"
Celestia giggle-snorted again.
"Ohmygod, Flash—for real, though—it's the cutest damned thing I've ever fucking seen." Biting her lip playfully, she held two fingers over the boi's crotch. "GASP!" Celestia exhaled. "Where did she go??" She moved her fingers aside. "There she is!" She covered his crotch once more. "Where is she hiding??" She lifted her palm. "There she is!! Eee-hee-hee-heee...!!" Another round of giggles, and Celestia cupped his crotch completely, humming as she delighted in grasping her pet's entire fragile essence with one motherly grip. "Hmmmmmmmmmm-alllllll miiiiiiiine..." Another laugh—this time drunken and desirous—and she gave all of Flash a tender squeeze. "I claim this in the name of THE SUN! Snrkkkt—hahahaha—!"
Flash was still crying. Delicately. A tender, humored smile broke out, but he couldn't stop the tears that were streaming.
Celestia blinked at him. For the first time since carrying her lover into that hot-hot house, her smile wavered. A voice dripped out of her—breathy and sincere and worrisome. "Hey~" She crawled up the bed and slinked against his naked figure, holding him close. "Shhh-shhh—hey there, Princess." She kissed his forehead, stroked his bangs aside, and kissed him again. "My precious pet..." Her lips pouted as her eyelashes fluttered. "...did I go too far?"
The boi wiped his tears aside with a dainty wrist, hiccuping on a happy sob. "No. Just..." He leaned in and buried his chest into her shoulder, clinging to her in a fetal position. "I'm so glad..." His voice was soft and muffled, condensing across her alabaster skin. "...I'm so glad Daybreaker's you."
Celestia swallowed a sore lump and stroked his upper back. "Oh, sweetie..."
"How...? How can I be s-so lucky...?" Flash cried again, only this time it took on a different tone. Less melodic. Cold. "You're so... you're just s-so..." He gazed up at her, lips quivering. Moist eyes glossed over with innocent wonder. "... ... ...Celestia, oh Goddess..." A gulp. "Why?"
"Flash—"
"Why me, though?"
"Flash, precious..." She peppered his face with kisses, desperate to keep him from sinking any further beneath the clouds. "My pretty pretty princess. Shhh-shhh... now's—... sweetie, now's not the time to get into one of your usual philosophical dips~"
He instantly winced. "I'm sorry—"
"Shhhhhhh..." Celestia placed two delicate fingers over his lips. "I'm... not going to explain it right now." She purred, stroking his bangs again. "Right now, I... I just want you."
"Celestia..." He stammered helplessly.
"Later. NOW." She sat up, layed him flat on the bed—facing up—and slinked off the mattress entirely. "Eyes front and center, Flash. Princess. I want—I want you to look at me."
Flash held his breath, doing as he was told. He stared down the length of his body, past his groin, past his feet, and past the sheets at the tall splendor of Celestia standing at full height.
The sheer majesty of the woman mesmerized him. She consumed so much of the tiny cottage with her glory. Even an average-sized past-twenty manly man would be dwarfed by her. Flash never dwelled on it much back in the day; at CHS—surrounded by fellow teenagers—he was far from the only boy of "small" stature. Celestia simply overwhelmed him and all his peers with her height, power, and posture. The fact that she had a supermodel's proportions to boot was adding insult to injury, and most adolescents—Flash included—found it difficult to stand or sit straight whenever she entered the classroom... and no doubt countless graduates limped onwards to young adulthood feeling cursed that they'd never have a chance to be with a goddess like her.
A chance that Flash had gotten—and was now reaping. It was a miracle beyond miracles, and Celestia looked poised to take advantage of it.
She started by locking eyes with him—lusty and commanding—empowered by an enormous well of confidence and pride that was so alien to the boi that he could just as well have been gawking at an unscaleable mountain.
Mountains—however—don't have bewbs, and this saucy amazon was currently kneading her own breasts through her shirt, moving her fingers with a slow-as-molasses dance that expertly matched the shameless aim of his mesmerized gaze.
As Flash's eyes moved up her violet shirt, so did Celestia's fingers. There was a distant tango between both lovers, and Celestia was so obviously well-practiced at this sort of a thing that Flash felt as though he was mouse-clicking-and-dragging her toppiece off with his mind. He watched as she slowly drew the shirt over her bosom—catching both globes at the most gloriously lifted moment—and then her chest fell with a playful jiggle once they were free altogether. As Celestia tossed the article away, Flash took a good long look at her breasts—or more appropriately the brassiere they were so elegantly encased in. Flash—a true pink sissy at heart—was far more turned on by lingerie than that which they were occasionally charged with lifting. Daybreaker knew this all-too-well, which is evidently why she chose the most beautiful bra imaginable: a silky ivory-cream number with lace floral motifs entertwining to form two clamshell cups that raised her bust perkily. The nipple line was ever so faintly translucent, allowing the faintest hint of mature milf-y aerola peeking through the immacuately-stitched fabric. For as alluring as the bra was, it was far from pathetically string-thin floss; the bevy of Celestia's bosom was covered, a classy and elegant presentation of sexuality that Flash admired—and Celestia admired him for admiring it.
"Tell me, Princess..." Celestia breathed, breathed, breathed—her lungs toying with the temperature of the room with each hot and horny exhalation. "When you and your friends hung out in the cafeteria or in the school bus or on the P.E. field..." Her eyes remained rigidly locked on the boi as she reached down and shook, shimmied and peeled out of those damnably short-shorts. "...what kind of nasty... lusty... dirty things did they say about me?"
Flash gulped, watching as Celestia girl-stepped out of those jean-shorts. A deliriously pungent musk wafted towards him—carried aloft by that endlessly taunting scent of lilac and sunflowers. "They... they said..." His eyes locked onto an enormous... continental wet spot staining across the crotch of the majestic woman's dark tights. "...they spoke of how they wanted to double-team you in the boys' bathroom... and... uhm... and feel your gorgeous mouth on their cocks..."
"Yes...?" Celestia hooked her thumbs into her tight leggings and began unbirthing herself from the soaking wet fabric, one inch at a time, exposing her snow-white thighs and shapely legs. "...what else?"
Flash cleared his rapidly drying voice, watching as more and more curvaeous flesh sanctified the hollow of the cottage around them. "Some wanted to just touch your ass. Most... uhm... w-wanted to bury their faces in your breasts."
"Go on..." Celestia leaned on one foot—then the other—peeling the tights off completely. "...I'm listening..."
"Some simply... dr-dreamed of you sitting on their faces..." Flash's nostrils flared as his eyes glittered over from the perfection unfolding before him. "...so many of them gawked at you—more than at Sunset and the Rainbooms and all the other girls. You're... you're just so d-dang hot. Criminally hot for a principal, much less a teacher. My friends felt so lucky and unlucky all the same..."
"I see..." Celestia stood tall and magnificent, reaching up in a mock "stretch" that accentuated every goddamn gorgeous curve her statuesque figure possessed. "And you, Flash..." Her hands traced down her exposed collar, her side-boobs, her midriff, and finally lingering on either side of a pair of hi-cut briefs—which she absolutely knew he would appreciate. "... ... ... what did you think at the time?"
Her panties were the stuff of Parisian dreams. Thick seams hemmed with lace. Much like the bra: a floral pattern that blossomed upward from her neatly-concealed crotch, too elegantly embroidered to show camel toe. Just perfect curves, feathering up her thighs with silk-petal softness to form a perfect "diamond" across her hourglass abdomen. Again—that shiny creamy ivory, like honeymoon bedsheets. Flash wondered if that same silk-silver motif spread to the whole of Celestia's bedroom... and if he'd ever be blessed enough to slumber in such a sacred place someday, cuddled like a happy infant in her motherly embrace.
"Well...?" Celestia slowly swung her hips—taking on a feminine pose—before slowly rocking back into an equally sexy stance. "...what did you want to do with me at the time, precious?"
"I... I-I... uhhh..." Flash's lungs hitched as his eyes thinned. "Uhhhhh—" He grimaced, winced, rose some more—and: "Ah-choo!" It was a considerably lesser "dainty" sneeze than earlier, and as he recovered from the annoying quirk, Celestia could clearly see his miniscule manhood twitching towards the ceiling at rapturous attention.
"Hmmmmm..." Celestia purred, still slowly swinging her hips from one pose to another. "Why hellllllo, sailor~" She giggled—both in delight and in desire—then breathed: "Now that you got that over with... care to answer me, darling?"
"I... ... ..." Flash panted... panted... trilled: "I kinda sorta wanted to be called to go to your office... where you would... mmmm... m-make me sit in your lap." He gulped. "As you held me. Petted me. Told me about your week." Another gulp. For a second he looked like there was another sneeze in the waiting, but the virgin held it together. "And then maybe d-did things to me that would g-get you fired from the school board." A hard blink. "All the while telling me how long y-you've always had your eye on me."
"Hmmmm..." Celestia's lips curved in a soft, knowing smile. "...is that all?"
"... ... ... ... ... ...okay, so maybe I wanted you to sit on m-my face too."
She giggled—a light, humming chuckle. Soon, she purred: "Flash..." Her hands slithered back up her shapely hips and waist, waiting only on his anchored eyes. "...I can't tell you how long I've lived—day by day—feeling hundreds of eyes locked on me. Lusting after me. Undressing me." She licked her lips—right as her hands stroked up and over the curve of her bust, pausing—as Flash's eyes did—to give her lacily-cupped breasts more than a few tender squeezes. "So many men—Flash—so... many men—and women—have wanted this... desired this... flirted with and whistled at and drooled over this. Every day of my life—for years—countless horny people have stepped up to bat and all of them only ever miss. Why? Because I simply don't want to keep them. I have no desire to give any of this to them for more than a one-night's stand."
She finally slid those hands up, smoothed her bangs, and threw her pastel hair back—like a majestic creature tossing its mane—then strolled over to the bed. She mounted it—then mounted him, pressing upon the boi the full weight of her majesty, filling Flash's lungs with the scent of lust and sunflowers, growing wetter and hotter—as did her voice—while she leaned over and cradled his face, practically dripping:
"But you, Flash—my sweet princess pet—I want to share it all with you. I want to keep you." Celestia gulped hard; that last admission evidently took the bulk of her ammo, and in the tiniest, tender moment to follow she was clearly at her most vulnerable. She covered it by smothering his face with a kiss, followed with a turse tone: "And don't you fucking dare ask 'why me?'."
Even if Flash wanted to interject, he hadn't the strength to. He merely squeaked into her lips.
She leaned back—smiling and confident once again. "Here... you want proof?" That said, she gently grasped his hand and guided it to her panties—pressing his trembling palm straight against her covered crotch. The woman couldn't help it—she let loose a growling purr, closing her eyes as she reveled in the long-awaited contact.
Flash too was gasping. "Oh my g-gosh..." He gaped up at her with adorable blue eyes twitching. "You're... you're like a faucet d-down there...!" He punctuated that with a helpless giggle, feeling a legitimate flutter in his chest.
Celestia's retort was considerably less cute. "This is what you fucking do to me, Flash Sentry~" She spoke through pearly teeth. "All morning long... this whole week—fuck—for months as I hoped... prayed... calculated this very moment just... happening." She seethed, seethed, and shuddered—kneading his fingers tighter against her panties, letting him feel the hot-hot moisture seeping past both their conjoined knuckles. "Mmmmmmm—so... let's save the chat for a little later, mmmkay? Because..." She gripped his hand tightly and pushed him back into the center of the bed. "...I'm not quite done with you yet."
Flash nodded. "Yes, ma'am—"
"Wanna try that again, sissy?"
"I-I mean, yes, my Queen—GAAIE!" Flash yelped cutely as he felt himself being flung over—lying face-down on the bed from the merest flick of Celestia's wrists.
"Shhh-shhh-shhh..." Celestia hovered over him from behind, reaching and rearranging the bed until his lower half was propped up neatly on two soft pillows. She spread his legs in such a manner that it flexed his girlish buttocks in the most shapely way imaginable. "Just relax, sweetie." Celestia licked her lips as she reached underneath him and delicately draped his peener out like a "south"-pointing compass needle. "Or squirm and squeal. I don't fucking care." With that said, she dove in. Deep.
And Flash felt it. Deep. "Uhhhhh—!" His eyes bugged as his upper body writhed against the tangled bedsheets. "Uhhhhhh-gosh!!" The poor—or fortunate—boi was overwhelmed, for he had never been utterly worshipped before.
"Worship" is the only word that could be given to what Celestia was doing to Flash's nethers. The woman quite-happily plowed her nose through the soft-soft ravine of his fannie, massaging and ravaging those golden cheeks as she slathered her tongue up and down the princessy seam between his testicles and boipussy. All the while, she got more than a few lewd hufffffs of his delicate crevices, and her body rolled with deep-seated growls from each long savory breath.
Flash whimpered and squeaked from all the flattering appraisals. With spasming muscles, he felt all across the bed—found a spare pillow—and clutched it hard to his flushed face as the woman continued to lovingly torment his privates. Half of Flash was shocked beyond belief that Celestia would indulge so much in the lewdest meal ever, but the other half—wisely—had somehow anticipated it.
Catching wise to Daybreaker's many-many divulging conversations, Flash had planned for the inevitable. Just prior to this week, he had set forth on the most elaborate manscaping (boiscaping?) project of his life. It wasn't too terribly difficult, considering that Flash had been mostly "smooth" down there as it was (shaving his legs was a unique sort of challenge, but that's another story). But then Flash had gone the extra step of changing his diet and using an enema just hours before making the drive to Indulgence. This—combined with multiple showers, during which he applied all manners of oils and fragrances to his nethers—guaranteed that Flash had the cleanest, prettiest, and most spotless behind in the entire continent. Truthfully, Flash's butthole couldn't have been cleaner if he had been born just yesterday in a dust-free NASA satellite contruction room.
The result of all his extensive efforts proved positive, and Celestia made her approvals known as she inhaled, groaned, inhaled again, and groaned even louder. "Mmmmm... sweet baby girl..." She reached a hand in, massaging and stroking Flash's delicate ball-and-string, all the while she kissed and licked and giggled her way up and down his rear. "Sweet baby girl~" She made his heart flutter as her voice vibrated through his tailbone. "Princess Tinkles is using her Queen's gift, I see."
"Eee-hee-hee-hee..." Flash giggled into the pillow. He pivoted his head aside, gazing across the cottage with a tear-stained smile. "I couldn't help myself..." It was an expensive lotion that Daybreaker had mailed to him just before the Getaway. T'was a smooth and filmy applicant that carried with it a clinging scent of baby powder—since Flash had confessed to her more than once that the seemingly innocuous smell turned him on more than anything else in the universe. "I figured that Her Majesty would enjoy ittttttttt—AAAAAAAH!" He shrieked, his back arching suddenly.
For—suddenly—Celestia's tongue had entered him. The only place a domme's tongue could enter a submissive pet in such a position. It was infinitely hotter... and wetter... than Flash had ever anticipated. And between the surprise, the heavenly sensation of being penetrated by such an intimate piece of his lover, and the sheer fact that Celestia would be so freely impulsed to do it in the first place—Flash felt himself quivering all over with joy and shock. He buried his face into the pillow and cried—long and deliciously—as his former School Principal literally ate his ass with reckless abandon. Once or twice, Flash tried crawling away—like a wounded prey—but Celestia pinned him down to the pillows, licking and lathering and stabbing even harder, all the while her hand tugged and toyed with his dangling genitalia. Her pet's fannie was a buffet and this domme was going to get her entire Sunday brunch's worth~
"Mmmmmmmmm-fuuuuuuu—" Celestia serenaded his insides, then licked her way back to the surface—swirling counter-clockwise—before puckering his pucker and squeezing his cheeks one last time. "Sweeeeeet baby girl..." Two kisses. Four kisses. Left and right and beaming. "So squeaky-clean and heavenly for Her Majesty." Another kiss—she'd never run out of them—and she gripped Flash's lower half, gently rolling the boi over so that his worshipped rear rested comfortably atop that fluffy mountain of pillows. His privates were now raised towards her like an altar offering, and she prostrated herself across the bed right before them, smiling wickedly. "Speaking of heaven—time to send you there."
Flash found himself facing up towards her, breathing rapidly as he clung the pillow to his puffied-nipples. "Oh gosh... I... I-uhhhh..." A nervous gulp, then a dumb smile. "But I didn't buy a plane ticket..."
Celestia fought the urge to snort. "You're such a Goddess-damned dork, Flash Sentry. I fucking love it." And the moment her mouth stopped speaking, it inhaled his entire sissy length in one swoop.
"Oh—OHHHH!" Flash yelped, hugging the pillow tighter—to the point of feathery bursting. His body heaved, the stack of pillows already propping his crotch up into Celestia's all-consuming mouth. He clenched his eyes shut and his naked toes dug into the sheets as he felt the woman's experienced tongue looping around his sensitive cylinder, bringing the full extent of his penis into warm, wet, wonderful rapture. It was felicitous chance—perhaps—that the sissy was so minimally endowed, for it afforded Celestia's mouth, lips, and tongue superior real estate to treat his "clitty" to such submarinal bliss. It was so hot and engulfing that the spasming boi could no longer tell where his abdomen ended and his lover's mouth began. The two had conjoined in this one act of lewd intimacy. He felt like he was catching on fire, and the conflagration electrified every cell of Flash's body as it swam its pleasurable migration up across his writhing form. "Aaaaaah... ahhhhhhh—FUCK!!!" the boi finally cussed.
"Hmmmmmmmm—schllkk—!" Celestia removed her wet mouth with a satisfying smack. She stroked the boi, smiling at his sweat-stained face. "Therrrrrre it is." A thin ribbon of saliva dangled between them, and she followed the trace of that gossamer bridge, leaning in to give his sissy member more than a few lathering licks—"Mmmmmmmmmm—!"—and toyed with the mushroom tip, stab-stab-stabbing his milkhole with her tongue and making him yelp. "Heeeeeeeee..." She stroked him, purring and breathing against the dainty shaft. "Princess Tinkles has such an adorable lil' clitty..." Celestia's eyes sparkled as she leaned in further to give his smooth little balls a playful eskimo kiss with her nose. "...and what a lovely coin purse, too~"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaa—!" Flash's gaping moan shaped into a goofy grin. "—haaaaaa-ha-ha-ha!"
Celestia's sweaty brow furrowed. Her stroking of the young man slowed slightly. "What...?" She chuckled, smiling just centimeters from his lovingly-abused organs.
"Heeheeheehee..." Flash wiped a tear dry from his smiling face as he gazed at her from afar. "'Coin Purse?' Really?"
"Kink-shaming?" Celestia laughed, pointing at the tiny penis in her grip with a comedian's expression. "NOW???"
"No shame... just... heeeheeeheee...!" Flash floated breathily between chortles and moans. "Who's the dork now?"
"I'll show you 'dork.'" And Celestia inhaled him once again. Only, a new element was added to the torture, sliding warmly into a hot little hole where her tongue had explored just minutes previous.
"Gaaaaaaaaah!" Flash screamed, electric shocks issuing from his prostate—a prostate that his former principal's finger was now massaging, lovingly and earnestly, in perfect timing to her expert fellatio. Between her mouth wrapped around him and her finger penetrating him, he felt inescapably locked to his lover, and he could only rock and writhe into it—into her—feeling his body ascending to a plane of inevitable melting. "DeeDee!" he yelped the name that he most naturally knew after all these months—these months of working up the will and strength to surrender himself totally and completely to this wonderful, wonderful woman. "DeeeeDeeee~!!"
Celestia evidently approved, and her ministrations quickened—harder and hotter—which Flash didn't even know was possible at this point. And then his domme moaned in a pleasure that he couldn't even comprehend her experiencing during all this selfless servicing, and it broke his pretty little mind. His levees were soon to follow, far quicker than the sissy had hoped, and aside from sobbing Flash's first resort was to warn her.
"Deedee...!" Breathy. Earnest. Like a burning ceiling was about to collapse on them both. "Deedee! Oh gosh, Deedee, I'm going to—"
Celestia lifted suddenly on her knees. She didn't release her finger or her mouth at first, so Flash "lifted" with her, his legs suddenly dangling over her shoulders. The boi's lower half raised from the bed at a forty-five degree angle... fifty... sixty... as Celestia stroked and massaged his prostate, suckling and swirling his penis before removing her mouth to lick the base of the shaft above his aching balls. There—she suckled, smooching and humming. Flash's clitty throbbed with greater and greater intensity—the portent to a gunshot—and Celestia sang to it: "Make milkies, Princess~" She purred, licked her way up his dicklette one last time, and pumped the tiny thing with a "ring" made by her spare thumb and forefinger, aiming it down at his slanted body and the pretty-pretty face far below. "Sweet baby girl~ Make milkies for your Queen~"
"Uhhhh-Muhhhhhh—!!!" Flash's head tossed back and forth, baptized by sweat and tears and—"Aaaaah—AAAAAAH!!!" At last, the sissy erupted, his lower body thrusting into everything and nothing, urged on by her voice, her finger, her love. He felt a hot sprinkling of rain across his flat chest and face—but it was just his own essence being showered over himself in thunderously rapturous spurts... spurts... spurts.
Celestia licked her lips, counted his spasms around her finger, then frictiously slid it out—swiping Flash's prostate in exit—upon the very last ejaculation. This well-timed exit made the last shot a monsterous thing, and a truly voluminous load landed heavily across Flash's upper chest—which was currently embroiled in a prolonged yelp that soon shattered into a series of well-spent sobs. He hiccuped and cried, covered in his own fluids, slowly melting into a fetal position.
Celestia lifted him in her arms before he could shrink any more. The domme rested on her knees, cradling the boi tenderly, kissing and breathing across his ears and face for the time it took for him to float back down from the stratosphere. It wasn't entirely an empathetic gesture; Celestia took a few selfish moments to lick his chest and collar, devouring tonguefuls of the young man's sissy emissions. She hummed in delight, swallowing and savoring the taste of her pet, then resumed holding him close, sushing him and stroking his back as she rocked the two of them together within the soft crater that their lovemaking had made in the bedsheets.
"I love you, princess~" Celestia kissed his eyelids—twice each—and then passionately frenched his mouth, desperate to wake him back up from his bittersweet stupor. "Mmmmmmm—my pretty pansy pet. Such a darling doll." She stroked his bangs and cradled his chin so that she could gaze into her adoring smile. "That was really intense...!" She giggled. "Wasn't it?"
When Flash's eyes reopened, it was through crystalline tears. "My Queen..." He choked, slowly coming to. "I... I love... I-I love... ... ..."
Celestia blinked, and for a brief moment her face flickered with worry. "Too intense...?"
He put on a reassuring smile, then leaned up to kiss her lips once, twice. "I just..." Shuddering a bit, he leaned in to rest his wet face against her neck—evidently a favorite place of the pet's. "...j-just kinda sorta hoped I would have lasted longer."
Celestia hummed—chuckled—and leaned her face down to smell his hair. "Sweet baby girl..." She stroked his back. "...you wouldn't be the precious princess I fell in love with if you did."
"Mmmmmmm-love youuuuuuuuu..." he merely cooed.
"Heeheehee—so I've heard~" Celestia squeezed his shoulders, then repositioned them so they could stare eye-to-eye again. "And you know why I prefer sissy pets like you?" When she saw him blink curiously, she stuck her tongue out and winked. "Because you always come back to come. Soooooo easily. Heeheehee...""
There was a heavenly pause. Flash blinked thickly.
So—as if to prove her point—Celestia held a finger up. Smiling, she gently laid Flash down on the bed. He watched passively as she slid off the bed entirely, standing as tall and sexy as ever. With her eyes locked on his, she slowly and ceremoniously slid her panties down, exposing her hot wet sex.
Flash felt his breath leave him—like witnessing a divine miracle of God. He'd seen nude photos of Daybreaker's lower half before, but nothing matched the visceral reality blessing his naked eyes. Her vaginal lips were ripe, puffy, needing. A moist gloss coated her labia, and the pink folds of the inner slit brimmed with such color contrast to her alabaster flesh—a new day breaking. Wet beads—like gemstones—dotted the pubic hair crowning her entrance. Celestia didn't completely shave below the pantyline—she didn't have to. Her confidence and poise couldn't be bothered to afford such labor. Besides—clearing that forest would have been a crime, ridding the world of a soft tuft of pastel glory. It resembled an aurora, much like her hair—a nebulous halo that hovered just above her most sacred temple, and Flash's mouth watered as he imagined the cherishable womanly tastes that lay waiting in that garden.
That euophoric trek would have to wait, however, and Flash was slightly disappointed when he witnessed Celestia sliding back onto the bed towards him, front-first. That disappointment was soon replaced with breathless joy as the school principal—with hot and horny eyes locked on his—raised the panties directly to his face and commanded: "Inhale."
Flash did. The wet warmth clinging to that underwear tickled his nostrils wide, and Flash's lungs filled deliciously with the hidden essence of his lover. The scent of sunflowers and lilacs were still there—of course—but only now did Flash realize it was just the surface of Celestia, along with one or two other smells that the young man deemed were typical products of modern day hygiene. But beneath that—buried deep within the foundation of that woman—was something primal, earthy, and slightly sour—increasing with ripeness the more that he inhaled. It drew a moan from his inner being, for his body didn't know what else to do. Like an instinct kicking off, something his infant self likely caught a tiny whiff of nineteen solar revolutions ago and that he was destined to experience upon this fateful return. Flash's aching brain did loops, having to create a brand new file to catalogue this smell, delighting in the fact that he could return to this—and joyfully too—thanks to how lovingly Celestia had first introduced him to it.
Flash suspected that there were many moments during this intercourse when he could confidently said that he "lost his virginity." For the record, it was the first smell that made him a man—even if still a prissy sissy at best.
"Flash..." He heard Celestia purring—a voice that trilled like a momma cat with each breath—for she was suddenly cresting upon a new precipice of arousal. For what—he would soon discover. "...I know how you feel about penetrating a woman." She lowered the panties from his nose, letting him come to the surface for a clean breath as she slinked up alongside him. "You've told Daybreaker several times that—even if you somehow could—it's just not your cup of tea. And I'm okay with that. Truly, I am." She smiled, kissing his lips as she lay beside the boi. "But, even still..." She breathed hotly against him, and Flash could see her thighs squeezing together suggestively. "...there are times that I want you so damned much... that I dream of somehow putting you i-inside me." A dry gulp, and she smiled through her hungry need. "Well—maybe we can come up with a compromise~"
Flash blinked, lying limp and vulnerable—as he felt her grasping his legs.
"Lift with me, sweetie~" she cooed, and he felt the lacy kiss of her underwear gracing his toes and ankles.
The tiniest of meeps escaped his lips. Flash happily did as he was told, and he gasped in several tender waves as his mistress slid her wet panties up his legs before tugging them into place over his crotch. It obviously wasn't the first time he crossdressed so intimately, but this moment was thunderously, religiously different: it was Celestia's panties. They felt loose on him, more than a few sizes too big for the slight boi. But somehow this made for the most delicious sensation. He felt incredibly, unbelievably lewd lying on that bed in her underwear—feeling like a naughty son trying on his hot mother's lingerie when she wasn't looking.
Only she was—with hungry, rosy eyes. "Feel them, Princess." She leaned down and kissed his lips, stroking her bangs as their noses touched. "Feel me, Flash." She breathed hotly against his face, clutching a palm-ful of hair as her breasts dangled between them. "Feel how hot and wet and bothered my pussy's been while waiting for you... dreaming of you..." All the while, her palm rubbed loving circles across the front of her own panties, pressing the laced and floral etchings of the garment into his sensitive clitty, soaking him through and through with her warm sopping essence contained within. "If only you could count all the times I've touched myself in these very same panties... in anticipation." She gulped dryly, then brandished a devilish grin as she nuzzled his face once again. "Be inside me. Drown in my love. Say my name. Become one with me—your flower and mine, Princess~"
"Mmmmmm..." Flash was squirming heavily now, and it didn't take very long at all for Her Majesty's prophecy to come true, and his sissy clitty stiffened rapidly with each wet stroke her fingers circled against that floral lace and silkiness. "Mmmmm-my Queen...!"
"Therrrrrre we are." She cooed, then suckled at his neck and chin. It was her turn to bury her beautiful head into his shoulder, and Flash felt her hand leave his crotch—switching instead to her own. There was an audible wet noise—rhythmic and slightly percussive—which could only have been her fingers entering herself at a swift velocity. "Say my name, Flash," she repeated from earlier. It was too needy—too starving—to sound like the domme's usual commands. "Please. Please."
"Deedee...!" he blurted, desperate to grant her wish. He immediately winced, then readjusted: "Celestia...!" He squinted through one eye. "... ... ...Tia?"
"Hmmmmmmmm..." She kissed her way back up to his lips, and Flash sensed her hand stroking and stabbing harder at herself. "Pick a straw..." she purred, and that newly-catalogued scent in Flash's mind intensified, filling the room—the whole damn cottage. "...any straw... we b-both win...!" She huffed and puffed with a self-propelled lust as she poured over him, her curvaceous body once again engulfing the petite boi as the unquantifiable lust took over.
Flash was happy that Celestia had found per path towards a peak yet again, but he also felt more than a little bit ashamed that he had seemingly done very little to guide her there. So—with some daring, and risking his submissive role as a pet—he threw in a smidge of agency. His hands raised to grasp her shoulders and he kissed back, aiming straight for her lips.
His dominant Queen instantly grabbed both his hands in vice-like grips, ceasing any and all of his efforts. But—instead of punishing him for his brief assertiveness—Celestia vibrated with even greater energy, seemingly spurred on by Flash's move. She gave a motherly kiss to his forehead before sitting up, straddling his leg. Her sex was insanely hot where the pussy lips made contact with his lower thigh, and Flash shivered to feel moisture trickling down on both sides of his knee.
He was so distracted by this sensation that he hadn't realized that Celestia had stripped of her bra until he saw the lacy white garment sailing off towards the far end of the room. He looked up, spotting an eclipse of face peaking lustfully down at him beyond the crest of thouse double-dees.
"Flash..." She rasped, her nipples stabbing the air like twin assassins. "Do you... want to make... your Queen... feel good...?" She spoke between panting breaths, her hands running over and squeezing her own breasts as her eyes remained ever-fixed on the boi's face. "Like she did... for her Princess... earlier...?"
"Yes, Celestia~" Flash chirped. His sissyhood twitched earnestly within her panties. "Yes, ma'am, pl-please...!"
"Then do m-me a favor, my pet." She swallowed long and hard. "You're such a sweet... gentle. Respectful little sissy, and I absolutely adore you for it." Her hands reached down and grasped his wrists, raising them higher... higher. "But—for the moment—could you maybe pretend that you're like one of your old naughty friends from back in high school..." A flaring of her nostrils, and Celestia planted both of his palms directly over her boobs. "...and treat these as those boys would h-have if they were as lucky as you?"
Flash knew that she was waiting for an answer—but he hadn't the nerve to respond. Not vocally—at least. Flash still had to process the unbelievable sensation being bestowed upon him. He felt like he was palming two massive pillows—so incredibly soft. Way softer—and smoother—than he had ever imagined in all of his teenage years of philosophizing over the divine beauty of women's breasts from afar. Well—apart from the rock hard nipples that were stabbing his palms so hard that Flash was certain they would leave scratch marks. But that was simply a sign of his lover's arousal—as was this entire damned gesture. Suddenly—everything clicked: the fact that his mistress wanted something and that the boi was simply there to comply. So, at long last, he had an answer to give—and he gave it, by squeezing and massaging and mauling those bewbs. Viciously. Like a caveman—as commanded.
His Queen was very very pleased.
"Mmmmmmmm-yessssssssss..." She gasped... then gasped higher. Celestia had to bend down and forward to arch her bosom into the smaller/younger adult's grip, which was fine—because her lower body shifted in turn, grinding her sopping wet sex against his thigh, squeezing and dripping and repeating as his hands continued to punish her breasts. "Yes, boi! Yes—want me! Want meeeeee..." She hissed, slithered her hands up and lifted her fountain of hair—letting it cascade back down just so she could lift and tug at it again, tossing her sweaty face left and right as she moaned into the moment, rocking and rocking. "Show how much you desire this Goddess... mmm-mmm... you hot and horny little prick, you..."
Flash smiled—both amused and delighted by this sudden side of Celestia. Some of Daybreaker's words were recognizable in there—colored with the same fringe passion she would type in the deepests, seediest moments of late-night sexting via Fuchsia. From memory, Flash could draw the same motions that set her even further on fire. He swiped his thumbs left and right, flicking across her hard nipples as his other fingers dug in, almost shaping those massive mammaries into funnels from the ardent pressure.
"Guhh—Fl-Flash..." Celestia's breath squeaked inward, and he could see her biting her lip as he sensed her pussy grinding—sliding—faster over his leg. His thighs were growing numb by the weight of the woman, but she pressed down harder and hotter, much to his joy. "Flash—please... mmmm... p... p-pinch them—"
He was already aiming his fingers towards her nipples. Squeezing. Murdering—twisting even.
"Aaaaaah—FUCK!!!" She writhed atop the boy, pulling at her hair and arching her back. "Rrrrrrrrrrrrgh—fucking molest me you little whore!" In a sweaty slump, Celestia lowered herself on top of him, pressing her breasts into his gasping face, smothering him. She was grinding her pussy against the full length of his upper leg by now, soaking the bedsheets underneath them. "Ufffffff—such a goddamn little boislut!" She huffed and puffed and slithered a palm down underneath his head, clutching a handful of blue hair and shoving his face up into her cleavage, making it even harder for him to breathe. "That's what you've always been, huh, Fl-Flash?" The principal's whole body rocked and rolled on top of him. She seethed through her teeth as her hair fell loosely all around her face, forming a lewd shroud. "Just a sissy little bitch boi—waiting for this moment. Waiting for me!" She groaned and growled. "Well, worship me, you puny little manlet! Fucking worship your Goddess—!"
"Mmmmmmmffff—" He did the only thing he could—he kissed and moaned and slobbered into that fleshy ceiling suddenly afforded him. Celestia's bosom embraced his mouth and cheeks, so he returned the favor with tender little licks and responding as well as his lips could manage: "Celestiaaaaaaa—"
"Yes—yes!" The domme suddenly lost her vicious veneer, her voice taking on a high-pitched octave as she threw her head back, thrusting her breasts even harder into her mouth. "You want me so hard! Say my name, Flash! Please—"
"Celessssssssssss—"
"Groan it! Moan it into me! Into my breasts—"
She had lifted just enough for Flash to find the space to raise both hands and press her bosom tightly together. He took a breath, then licked all over her conjoined nipples, making sure to grant her silly wish: moaning through the desire and drool. "Deeeeeedeeeeee... Tiaaaaaaaaaa my Queeeeeeeeeeeeen—"
"Oh shit... shit!" A pained whimper escaped Celestia's lips. She thrusted and shook and—"Flash!"—locked in place, her eyes tense and shut. "Flash! I can't... y-you're so..." Her mouth opened to say something—but stayed opened even longer, just in time for a prolonged howl to fountain forth. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—FUCK!!!" The whole bed shook. Flash couldn't feel exactly why through how numb his legs had gotten, but then the full weight and length of Celestia collapsed against him, and he realized she was jolting and jolting from indefinable spasms deep within. "Flash—!!" She clung to her petite pet, as if their sizes had somehow reversed. "Fl-Flash! I... I-I..." She buried her face into the sheets beside him. "FRKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!"
In a flicker of dumb innocence, Flash followed the worried twitch of his tender heart. Covered in sweat and other moistures, he looked at the woman collapsed across him with concern. "Deedee? Are you okay—?"
"YES, goddammit!" She shot up—still panting—then eased back down, pulling Flash into a close, naked hug. "I'm... I'm..." She breathed against his forehead, kissing his nose and stifling a sob. "Fuck, Flash, I love you so m-much...!" Her eyes clenched tightly for a few seconds, damming something deep within. "Fuck... fuck~"
Flash shivered helplessly in her grasp. He didn't know exactly what to expect from when the two finally coupled together. But now that so much had culminated, he couldn't help but feel a little lost. Even silly.
Daybreaker—Celestia—was more than equipped to relieve her darling lover's mind, especially after such a moment of intensity. She eventually summoned the strength to rise again, kissing him repeatedly—and softly—across his face and lips.
"I really do..." She said, her voice once again soft and dear "I really do love you so much."
She stroked his face, his arms, his sides. Once her hand reached his abdomen—where he was still wearing her panties—she opted to shift the two of them altogether. She propped herself in a reclining position, seated against a mass of pillows, and "cradled" Flash diagonally across her.
"Sweet Princess Tinkles..." The hot and horny valkyrie had vanished, replaced with a familiar goddess who had been ferried in on the tingling tendrils of afterglow. Her hand wandered over the bulge Flash's sissyhood made in her own underwear... and began stroking with featherlight motions. Flash gasped, feeling her warm touch teasing his privates, all the while she gazed down at his face with boundless adoration. "Here, my sissy..." She used her other hand to lift his chin—and mouth—to her bosom. "Love on me while I love on you~"
Flash exhaled slowly with relief. While he was happy—and more than a little bit turned on—by Celestia's nasty side, it was no big secret that the boi much preferred this softer... gentler persona of his domme. He was allowed the peace of mind to approach her bosom slowly, delighted to savor their taste this time. And it was indeed a very heavenly taste—salty from all their combined sweat but strangely sweet as well—or perhaps it was just the cotton candy state of Flash's girly-girly mind as he joyfully indulged in his former principal's milk bags.
His love of Daybreaker was multi-faceted—and discovering only an hour ago that she was also Celestia certainly added more luscious layers to the heart of his desire. He admired her maturity, her intelligence, her wit. He envied her elegance, her sophistication, and her beauty. Most important of all—he trusted her... and felt safe in everything she did to him, even the things that she poetically implied would hurt him.
But there was yet another facet to his mistress that Flash valued. Daybreaker's impact in Flash Sentry's life was synonymous with him embracing his feminine side. Be it wholesome or lustful, Celestia helped paint every wall of his inner mind baby pink. It dawned upon Flash that—if what Celestia had confessed about breadcrumbing him into Fuchsia was true—then she willfully drew that inner sissy out of him... straight out of hiding—perhaps so that the queen might put a leesh on that Pretty Princess Tinkles and blissfully domesticate her once and for all.
In short, Daybreaker—Celestia—was more than just his lover. She was his muse... his inspiration... his very reason for coming out of so many shells that it took what was once perceived as a failure and gussied it all up with a nice pink bow. And being there—in her arms, wearing her panties, nuzzling her bosom—felt like being enfolded in that same warm fuzzy fountain of femininity.
Flash Sentry was more than happy. He was home.
His Majesty welcomed his arrival with a lullaby. "Sweet baby girl~" She purred, stroking and petting his clitty through those womanly panties while her other fingers delighted in his feathery blue hair. "My delicate fairy flower~" Celestia hummed, closing her eyes and sucking her breath in as she felt his tender mouth suckling at one nipple, then the next, before resorting to the curves in between. "Mmmmmmm—such a sweet sissy princess~ How could this queen have gone on for so long without you? Hmmmmm?" She giggled like a fairy godmother—a difficult thing, seeing as Flash's mouth made her gasp and stammer every other second. "Oh! Ohhhhh... I... I would have gone insane by now... truly insane..."
She reached down between his legs, squeezing his sensitive pouch beneath that wet lace, before running a pair of playful fingers up and down the narrow bridge connecting his fruit to his entrance. Celestia applied pressure at intervals, expertly tickling the boi's perineal nerve—which summoned a startled moan of pleasure from his lungs.
"Hssssshhhh..." Celestia sucked her breath in, delighting in his groaning mouth against her bosom. She pressed his face tighter to her chest, struggling to keep her words steady as her other hand traveled back to his Adonis mound. "But I found you..." She gripped his shaft through the lingerie, slowly shifting the floral fabric along his meager length, sending spastic ripples up Flash's nervous system. "I found you, my sissy~ My Pretty Princess Tinkles~" She stroked a single finger repeatedly up the underside of his pantied wand, milking wetter and wetter beads of pre from his whimpering being. "Your Majesty has found you and she couldn't be happier, my pet."
Flash's mouth and tongue were missing Celestia's boobs completely at this point. She sensed him flounder—overwhelmed with yelps and squeaks of pleasure.
The woman exhaled warmly, giving his scalp a loving stroke before lowering his head altogether. "Shhhh—it's okay, sweetie. You can just lie back..."
"Uhhhhhhhnnffff...!" Flash's eyes rolled back—as did his head—and the boi's upper body draped limply over her knees while his lower body writhed and humped slowly into her massaging fingers. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh-yuhhhhh... ohhhhhhhh g-guh—!!" he mewled unintelligbly, sweaty and drooling.
"Yes. Yessssss my cherub." Celestia quickened her strokes of his little staff. Her other hand delighted in stroking his hair, his face, his neck just above the collar, then back up to his soft, soft hair. "Enjoy this." She blew kisses down at him, smiling with starry eyes at his flushed expression. "You deserve this."
"Muhhhhh—yes..." he cried, tears forming as his pupils shrank, affixed to some distant event horizon of indescribable pleasure, burning straight towards him at lightning speed. "Oh DeeDee—goddess—y-yes...!"
"You deserve this~" She leaned down to kiss his forehead. It was just the opportunity Celestia needed to sneak her hand under the laced waistband of the panties, where she proceeded to stroke and caress and stroke Flash with her bare palm. "Such a darling, dreamy little princess~ How could you not deserve pleasure??"
"Ahhh..." Flash hiccuped. Heaved. "Ahhhhh...!"
"To give pleasure and take pleasure." She kissed him again. And again. Her lips suckled on his earlobe, and she whispered: "That is the role of a pet. Embrace it. Scream it."
"Yes!" Flash's eyes rolled back again, and his hips rolled up into her hand. "Ohhhhh yesssss!" His head tossed left and right, and his voice mimicked the high pitch yelps of an adult actress in the throes of artificial climax. Except—for Flash—it came out completely natural, and Celestia adored him all the more for it. For letting her savor—in the flesh—the absolute doll that she had spent months fishing towards the surface. "Yessssssssssssssss!!!" His eyes shot back, gazing at her through rapturous tears. "So good...!" He huffed and humped and huffed. "It f-feels so goooood! Mmmmmm-Celest...! Celest...! Aaaa-aaaaah!"
"You're so good." Celestia hoisted his upper body up into a one-armed hug, forcing his face into her shoulder as she nuzzled the top of his head. "Come to me, now, my good good princess." Her hand rested inside the panties, palming his entire sex and slowly rubbing in sensuous little circles. She had to fight to keep her motions gentle; a burning flame had been brightly re-kindled deep within her. "It's okay, sweetie~" She cooed. "I've got you."
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh—!"
"Your Majesty's got you~"
"... ... ...!!!" Incidentally, Flash lost the strength to shriek at his peak. His orgasm was a very quiet, spasming thing. He clung to her, emitting nothing more than tiny, almost-pained squeaks.
His ejaculations amounted to the same: a sissy trickle of hot-hot joy, rivering slowly into Celestia's loving, protective grip. While the woman's hand bathed in the warmth of his tender boimilk, her neck flushed from the heat of his blissful tears. Celestia smiled, more than a little bit pleased with the balance.
"Shhhh... that's right... that's right... let it all out, sweetie~" She pecked his face and ears and chin with more kisses, feeling her own heartbeat increasing as his emptying clitty twitched for the last few times. Her hand was sopping wet at this point. "So lovely~ So beautiful~"
Flash wept, hiccuping and shivering against her. It was a miracle that the poor virgin sissy hadn't passed out by now.
Well—virginity was only an abstract term of endearment at this point. Celestia chose to take advantage of that—including the fact that her lover was still conscious. Shushing him once more, she slowly—and carefully—pulled her hand out from the panties. Without spilling her palm's milky contents, she held it up to Flash's face, using her other fingers to brush his bangs back and allow him an obstructed look at his own essence.
"Here, honey~" She leaned in closer—bosom and all—until the timid boi was trapped between her and the makeshift bowl. "Be a good girl~" She stroked his hair, giving him the tiniest of pushes toward her waiting hand. "Be a good girl for your Queen, now."
Flash hesitated—for just a tiny second. Celestia couldn't be mad at the sissy for that. Especially since—taking a diver's breath—he soon leaned his head forward and obeyed his mistress. With long, luscious licks, he lapped up his own sperm like the good pet that he was. Celestia waited, proud and smiling, until he had replaced the lewd fluid across her palm and fingers with a thin layer of his own saliva. She made sure that he swallowed every last milky drop, and even giggled lightly as he went in for a twelfth coating, licking and suckling at her fingers—one after another.
"Okay—okay, sweetie..." She pushed him back until he slumped—panting and spent—in her strong arms. "That's enough! Heehee—you've made your queen so happy." Celestia hugged his trembling body from behind, nuzzling his neck and kissing his head through his hair. Her rosy eyes swept across the ceiling, and anyone gifted enough to look in on the intimate scene could tell that one last gnawing need was tugging at her facial expression. "Mmmm-but... if you think you're up for... making her even happier... ... ...?"
Flash drifted in and out of sapience, suspended in her arms. Part of him surfaced long enough from his orgasmic bliss to register the words she had just said. "Of c-course..." It was only when he spoke—and subsequently burped—that he realized his mouth, tongue, and gums tasted outrageously like semen. "...my... Queen...?" The sensation both startled and intrigued him, which was just the jolt Flash needed to keep from completely turning to putty.
Celestia could sense the shifting energy in his sissy muscles, and she reached around to squish his cheeks. "Consider that a palate cleanser," she purred, winking mishievously.
"Mrmmfff..." His mouth barely managed to function in her grip. "Mrmmmfff-for what?"
In answer, she merely kissed his forehead—a new favorite thing of Celestia's. Next, she laid him down onto the bed face-up, then waddled on her knees until she was looming just beside his pretty head. There was an audible series of taps—something they could both hear—and it took Flash a moment to notice the fresh dots of wet bedspread forming directly beneath Celestia. Her sex was soaking once again, and he could feel the hairs inside his nose curling from the sheer proximity of her desperate, burning heat.
"You..." She reached down, progressively shivering as she toyed with his bangs from above. "...you d-don't have to do much... not this f-first time..." She gulped, gazing down at him through sweatspace, her breasts starting to heave upon the eve of a massively gratuitous stunt. "There'll be time for m-mastering the basics later..."
Flash's lips pursed innocently. "Later...?"
"Please, Flash. I... I-I really really need this. But..." She took deep breaths, as if to sober herself for just a few seconds to say: "...if you're too tired or if you're uncomfortable then just say the safe wo—"
"I want what you want, Your Majesty," he slurred—albeit a breath that rippled through a delirious smile. He gazed up at her lovingly, eager to bring her to whatever ecstatic fruition she was evidently shuddering to achieve right then. Anything would be worth it—to return even a fraction of the pleasure and fulfillment that she had just given him minutes ago. "If I wasn't comfortable... your pet w-would say so."
"... ... ..." Celestia's whole body relaxed, although she was still overcome with tremorous anticipation. Her smile was a funnel of relief as she said: "Something tells me you'll really want this t-too..." She caressed his face one last time, and then swung one leg over him. "Except... ... ... I need it more." She straddled his neck with her knees, gazing straight down from a nosebleeding height so that their eyes and mouths were even. "Right now." She was nearly panting at this point, and what squeaked out next was positively pleading in tone. "O-okay?"
Flash looked straight up from his position. The boi could barely make out her face from the massive cliff of her breasts. Instead, another "mouth" loomed much... much closer... and it was "drooling" more than the other two in the room. He gazed into that glorious woman's flower and answered it: "Okay."
"Here..." With antsy fingers, Celestia reached down and guided both of his hands up to her thighs. "Right here." She kneaded his palms against her hips and buttocks. "Hold on tight. And... and if it's too much pressure or... or if you can't br-breathe..." She patted his knuckles for emphasis. "Just tap quickly. Okay? I... I won't suffocate you. I promise."
Flash gulped. Flash nodded. Flash opened his mouth.
"Okay—...!!!"
His blue eyes crossed as her Venus mound plummeted against him in a wet splash. Immediately, that musky and slightly sour odor from earlier filled his entire being. He thought that inhaling—and subsequently cumming—inside his lover's glorious underwear was the closest he'd ever allow himself to becoming one with Celestia. Flash couldn't have been more wrong, and his insides tingled all over by that suddenly overwhelming taste that filled every sinus, vacuole, and crevice of his sapient being. For the tiniest moment—precious and his—Flash considered himself supremely blessed to be the only person to have ever gotten this unbelievably "intimate" with Celestia. The boi knew better; Daybreaker had often admitted—and boasted—of enjoying multiple partners, but—for the time being—Flash was the veritable root of her joyous foundation. Literally. And he was proud for it.
He was also very... very uncomfortable. This was less a problem with Celestia, and more the fault of gravity. But even then—she went out of her way to be out of his way, resting her weight firmly on her knees and not Flash's cranium... and also grasping the bed's headboard above him for support. With such grip and control, she was able to rub and grind her needy sex against Flash's face without causing undo harm or suffocation.
But it didn't detract from how stifling, awkward, and hot the sensation was: being Celestia's hump toy. There was no point in pretending otherwise; Flash had long fantasized about this—or more specifically being the recipient of this. But those sexy dreams were almost always experienced within the foggy space of his mind while lying face-down and thrusting his meager boihood into a cushy mound of pillows. Here—he was lying face up, and an absolutely majestic amazon of a woman was using his lips, nose, and chin as a spongy springboard for her righteously selfish pleasure. Reality—as amazing as it was—had its raw hooks to navigate, and it scared Flash.
He wasn't scared for his safety, or else he'd have swatted Celestia's butt and sputtered the word "TROUSERS(!!!)" barely five seconds into the grind. But rather, Flash was scared that this whole situation would prove anticlimactic to the domme. Or—even worse—her assertive request may have been an obvious sign that he hadn't properly pleased her up to this point, and she had to take things into her own hands... or hips.
But then Flash remembered her orgasmic throes from earlier—and how damnably hard it would have been to "fake" such heavenly outbursts. And he also remembered the few times that he and Daybreaker both agreed—over Fuchsia—that femdom face-sitting was the hottest thing that they had ever contemplated.
And then—of course—there was the sopping wet vagina sliding back-and-forth-and-back-and-forth-and-back-and-forth across his lips and chin currently. That was certainly a helpful clue—as were Celestia's warbling shrieks echoing across the ceiling above their raunchy rodeo.
"Mmmmm... yessssss..." Celestia ran her hands slowly up her body, like she was groping and reveling in another woman's gorgeous hourglass besides her own. "Y-yes, Flash...!" She lingered especially on her own breasts, rubbing and rotating them towards each other, away, and back again. "Ohhhhhh thank you...!" She huffed, tugged at her hair, and writhed her lower body back and forth as a deliciously dumb smile dripped across her face. "Thannnnnnnk youuuuuuu...!!"
Flash blinked. Alright, so maybe it was high time he stopped doubting his proficiency at being a 'good' pet. Granted, it was also obvious to the boi that he had little to no agency in contributing to Celestia's current nymphomaniacal state. The woman was just so damned horny right now that it was inspiring. She could have just as easily been grinding her pussy over a sea barge at the moment. The fact that the object lying between her legs just happened to be the barely legal young man she had fallen in love with was merely a bonus—and it sent a flutter into Flash's heart that he could actually be such a positive contribution to her pleasure by merely existing.
Flash Sentry had managed to keep his virginity in tact until the healthy age of nineteen. This wasn't due to him trying and failing to be a horndog stud. Rather—Flash long lacked a great deal of confidence. Part of this was due to... just being a good wholesome boi in general. But a lot of it also had to do with his less-than-masculine physicality, his self-defeating introversion, and—naturally—the unhappy conclusions to his relationships with Sunset Shimmer and Princess Twilight.
More than anything, Flash Sentry wanted to be useful to those around him—especially lovers.
And—well—if being useful meant "being used," then so be it. Flash long dreamt of being objectified, as base and deplorable as the concept may have sounded in a sane echo chamber. He'd often have deep and convoluted imaginings of being the lewd "morale cheerleader" to a handsome football team or a hands-and-knees servant for a bridge club full of milfs. He'd wear whatever and endure whatever—so long as he knew that it was bringing others pleasure, even hearing their audible gasps, sighs, and grunts. He thought it was only pure fantasy that he could embody all of these things and also enjoy the prospect of being pleased and cuddled in return. But then he met Daybreaker, and Daybreaker turned into Celestia, and Celestia became this hot and heavy cowgirl convulsing upon his face.
"Fuuuuuu—Unnnhh!" Up and down—front and back—his former principal rode him. "Heeee-hehehehe..." She stroked her hands over her own face before cupping a breast with one palm and gnawing on a loose finger with grinning teeth. "Guhhhh—so wet. Goddess, I'm so fucking wet! Do you t-taste it, my pet?! Do you taste how absolutely fucking wet you m-make me?!?"
So, yes. Flash was uncomfortable. Flash was being used. He could indeed taste all that hot moisture dripping out of his lover's femme faucet hole, and he wasn't entirely certain that he'd ever take a liking to it.
And with all of those things in consideration, Flash was still happy. Yet again, Celestia—his beloved Daybreaker—had proven that there was seemingly no limits to which this relationship could be deemed "perfect." And it was only their first day together.
All that it needed was a cherry on top. Silly—Flash thought—seeing as he was now completely devoid of one. Unpopped, at least.
On a personal dare, the boi reached his hands up and tap-tap-tapped Celestia's thighs rapidly.
"Guh!!!" the woman gasped sharply—as if mortally afraid that she had decimated her petite princess while in the throes of self-pleasure. She lifted instantly, blinking down with concern. "T-Tinkles...?" she mewled, shivering and dripping.
But Flash was more than fine. He just needed to take a breath... and then to gently grip Celestia's thighs, slowly lowering her back down towards him—but not all the way. He guided her into a shallow hover, then reached up to try and add some poetry to the grinding mix.
He began with his tongue—experimental, exploratory. He found brand new shores in that shadowed domain, silk-silk lips moistened upon the fringes of a nebulaic forest, all smelling of woman and need. Every touch of his tongue sprung more ambrosia from the tap. It was musky, salty, and... some other word that Flash couldn't describe, even with the catalogue his mind had updated after the great Panty Transcendance of Twenty Minutes Ago. But somewhere beyond that—deep and hidden—was a curious sweetness. He couldn't tell if it was actually there beyond all of the less-than-savory flavors Flash was enduring, or if it was something his lizard brain concocted in order to keep him dedicated to his current service.
However, Flash's lizard wore a pink tutu, so he dove in deeper, slithering his tongue into those flowery folds, exposing a divine pocket as old as time that dribbled even more essence against his mouth and jaw, coating him with a mystifying perspiration.
But it was nothing compared to Celestia's sweat at the moment. "Oh goddess—FLASH!" Her voice boomed—an inch of it stemmed in protest. She was so hell-bent on being in control of that debauched cowgirling, but then Flash's sudden and willful acquisition of the wheel took a waterfalling crest that loomed miles away and suddenly thrust it just beneath her trembling knees. The maw mesmerized, consumed, and she was now going to plunge into it far... far sooner than anticipated. "Ohhhhhh... ohhhhhhhhhhh Princess! You are so eager!" She cupped her face as her lower body relaxed into his flick-flick-flicking tongue. "Yes! Yesssssss sweetie! Kitten licks! Happy little kitten licks! Mmmmmmmmmm—yeahhhh-hahahahaaaa!" She reached a hand down and stroked his delicious blue threads as her abdomen swung in rhythmic wheels with his tongue as the spoke. "Want me! Taste me! Drink me...!"
Flash struggled to keep up with her constant, shifting movements. He wasn't about to tap her thigh and make her stop again. She was racing towards a finish and he wanted to be awake for it—for he could already tell that just five more minutes of this blissful madness and he might literally black out. Rather than dwell on his pathetic stamina, the boi tried to penetrate his tongue as deeply as he could into her. In so doing, his nose brushed up against her pastel bush. A moan escaped his lips—more so from ticklishness than reacting to Celestia's admittedly arousing outbursts—but he tried to stifle it. It was a bad idea to breathe or exhale into the vagina, Flash remembered. He read that somewhere, or heard it on Youtube. Whatever. He couldn't tell anymore. His face was ninety percent pussy juice by now and it was doing things to his pretty, fluffy mind.
"Uh! Yes!" Celestia shrieked, her voice growing hoarse and indistinguishable upon the summit of some unseen mountain betweenthem. He felt her legs—and whole body—lock up as if she had just been dealt buckshot. "R-right there! Mmmm—sweetie...!!!"
Cartoon question marks nearly materialized above the boi's pretty brow. Why not? Everything else had reached such deliciously surreal heights. Flash opened his eyes—more like squinted them through tangy, burning sleet—and discerned an infinitesimal nub of puffy longing, just poking before the pubic tree line. Every time his nose grazed it, a sharp and melodic yelp escaped from Celestia's heaving lungs.
"Please... Flash... my pet—I'm b-begging you—!"
Flash smiled—as much as he could afford while spelunking, that is. He was drunk!sleepy, bobbing up and down in the tenuous waters between "horny" and "afterglow." If it was possible to feel any more content—right there nestled between the thighs of the most beautiful woman in the world—he couldn't imagine. He was almost too scared to find out, so he decided it was time to zero-in on the self-destruct button. He clearly identified it now; Flash had seen the South Park movie at least a dozen times.
He slid his way in, gliding his nose across Celestia's hood like a shark's dorsal fin. When what throbbed beneath was completely and fully exposed—he lashed at the adorably engorged nub with his tongue. What instantly followed almost deaffened him.
"Yessss! OH YES!!!" Celestia's grip of the headboard slipped. She teetered, flailed, and braced her palms against the plush sheets beneath them as she face-fucked into Flash's oral barrage. "Keep—just—mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm—don't stop! DO. NOT. STOP." Her face tensed, and she seethed through her teeth like she was giving birth—or maybe wanting to unbirth him. Or cupcakes. With shiny sprinkles. Butts. In any case, more than her metaphorical water broke between each frenzied cry: "Uhhhhhhhh GAWD! No no... no no no no no no no no—!"
Flash was confused by Celestia's negatives—but even more confused that he had ceased his tongue-flicks out of concern and still she was grinding across his face with increasing tempo. Whatever spark had fired off in her being, he was now a helpless audience to it. The wetness increased, as did her spasms.
And her volume: "Noooo-ohhhhh GOD! It's coming! It's coming, Flash, and it's so big! I'm gonna... I-I'm gonna..." She hitched her voice suddenly. The nerves normally assigned to her lungs were busy summoning far more important behemoths from the depths. There was just enough oxygen for her to throw forth: "Princess. Can't. Hold it. Love you. Forgive...!"
Somewhere between those fragments, Flash's mind wove a narrative. His heart jolted—both in fear and in anticipation. He remembered several tender confessions Daybreaker had once made over Fuchsia. Together, they formed a mosaic. A warning—something given months in advance, which more than made up for Celestia's pathetic excuse of a cautionary cry just now. Flash's mistress had traveled through time and space to prepare him for what was about to happen, and he trusted that if he just slid out of the way he might avoid it.
Instead, the submissive pet clasped Celestia's waist with both hands and pulled himself up—pulled himself up to her sex, kissing and suckling his lips tightly around her clit, opening the gates for her—so that she wouldn't hold back any longer.
And she sure as Hell didn't.
"!!!" There was no outburst from Celestia when she came. That made for an adorable commonality between the two today. What followed next was considerably less similar or adorable: namely the rhythmic spray of fluids squirting out of her pussy and showering Flash's subservient face with a most sacred baptism. He would later admit that he had his eyes shut for the duration—and it was a duration. The boi's senses "counted" four and a half seconds of spasmic discharge in full, which was impressive for a woman of any age. If she was the same domme who had hungrily tracked him down outside in Indulgence an hour ago, maybe she'd have the sadistic werewithawal to aim all her squirting wetness straight into his mouth. But she simply didn't have the strength—or comprehension—to do anything but flinch in a mute conniption. That's how Flash knew that her climax must indeed have been a mind-blowing one, and for the first time since meeting the boi almost envied her.
Almost.
And then—like all things in life—it was done. Celestia collapsed, somehow summoning the strength and skill to throw herself sideways instead of crushing Flash's tender body with her shapely buttocks. Once those wet olympics had exhausted, the two lay awkwardly perpendicular across the massacred bed, gazing and panting and gazing and panting towards the cottage ceiling in separate but comparable degrees of "soaking."
It was Celestia who summoned the strength to speak first. "Holy shit."
Flash gulped. "Uh huh," he squeaked in a girlish tone.
"I... I really... really... really... really needed that..." Celestia—breasts jiggling—threw a dainty wrist over her slick brow, squinting into infinity. "Because... b-because..." A gulp. "... ... ...Holy SHIT."
Flash's lips curled ever so slightly. He hadn't the muscle to look at the woman, no matter how intensely he loved her at the moment. "Uh huh... ... ..."
Celestia raised her hand—only for it to fall limply back to the bed. She repeated the motion, likewise failing. Finally—with a defeated sigh—she stammered: "Princess...?"
"Mmmm... ... ... Y-yes, my Queen?"
"Are you... seeing the same goddamn stars that I am?"
"You... mean all the pixie dust?"
"Okay, uhm..." Celestia huffed, rolled her eyes, and covered her eyes with that same weak wrist. "...what say we take a teensy-weensy little break, my pet?"
"That's... fine by me, Deedee."
"Because... eheh..." Celestia smiled drunkenly into her sweat. "...holy shit."
"Heeheehee-yeahhhhhhhh..."
"Heh heh heh... hahahahah..."
It took a good three minutes before the domme found the strength to crawl over and cuddle her pet close to her, and that was finally when the smiling boi felt content enough to close his eyes—knowing that such unbelievable beauty wasn't going away anytime soon.