Author's Note

I know I said I was going to use a previous actual dream scene, but My muse just would not shut the buck up with this. So, I'll see what happens for next time.

Choices

When Moon Shadow and I married, my parents gifted us the treehouse I grew up in. They wanted to move into the cities of Equestria and knew how much I had always loved that old tree. It put us further away from most of the town and gave us newlyweds some privacy, much as anypony could have in the Shades. At least no one’s windows were facing any of ours, even if our landing deck was out in the open.

Growing up I wasn’t a great student; I did well in all my lessons, but I was horrible at getting up at Last Light, eating breakfast, and flying to school. It was close a lot, but I was never late, spreading my wings and flying as quickly as I could through the upper branch covers. I had the route planned so well in my head I could almost fly it with my eyes closed.

Never tried it because, like I said, I wasn’t a bad student and flight class taught us what happens if you break a wing. Maybe that helped me with my cutiemark. Hard to really know.

Our treehouse was generations old and because of that we had something the younger trees couldn’t. Our home was grown by a farmer who knew how to train the roots as it grew, so she coaxed it into forming an empty cavity below the ground level while still being as stable as any treehouse could hope to be. So we had a below-ground round room that spanned the entire diameter of the tree.

I loved going down there during the day when I should have been asleep. I’d creep downstairs with my jar of Glow Grubs to navigate around the stored furniture and explore the walls to see how the roots and dirt were woven together. Some days I could almost hear them drinking the rainwater as it seeped into the roots and never got into the room itself.

My parents did the usual Embarrass The Foal To His Special Somepony by telling Moon Shadow how they knew I was doing it and how mom didn’t do anything to stop me, hoping I might find an interest in agriculture….

We were back in that room now, just as I remembered it; cleared out of all my parent’s stored things, leaving just some specific wooden constructions to the sides, my glass Glow Grub trails in the roots above--

“--please. Mercy. I’m done. No more. Please stop. Mercy, mercy, mercy. Please stop, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO STOP!” That poor, tortured mare still had enough strength to rattle the chain links supporting her. I knew I loved her strength for a reason. My Moon Shadow; her gorgeous body mostly hidden under a cheaply-made version of the Shadowbolt’s uniform, stained with sweat and moistened from a slow-dripping pan of water above her to keep her uncomfortably cool.

It’ll only get worse for her over time.

Her charcoal hair and mane were effectively one disastrous, frazzled combination since I’d tied them together with no concern on how I’d untie them later. Since she loved having her mane and tail grown out I could have just braided them together, but that wasn’t the effect I was going for. That lump of hair was matted with who-knows how many crusted over layers of spit and semen and piss and dripped water, all of which was worse the closer to her head and dock you looked. I needed to use buckets of water to wake her up from time to time. Sometimes just for fun.

And she was so much fun.

I had put the most embarrassing head bridle design I could find on her; she looked like a pre-Equestrian slave whorse with straps wrapped over her muzzle, under her jaw, and around the back of her head. I even splurged to make it as humiliating as possible by keeping three gags clipped to the sides for when I needed them. A cock-headed plug to train her cock-swallowing throat, a strait-across bar with a tongue plate to make her drool and stop her complaining, and a ring to keep her from getting any rebellious ideas when I’d use her throat as my private struggling-to-breathe cock sock.

As if the humiliation of that wasn’t enough, I’d installed the vision blinders at the sides of her eyes and buckled them closed. Even with the black leather of the straps against her near-ebony coat, I could still make out the dried tear marks down her cheeks. Since they were dry, she’d not cried in a while, meaning she either wasn’t upset enough or drinking enough water.

I stepped in front of her and backhoofed her face with my right hoof to get her attention. The little mudpony filly scream she gave me was perfect; it let me know she was still aware and gave me an open hole to shove the drinking dildo into her face from her left. After a little sputtering and choking she sucked hard, trying to deepthroat and swallow the concoction of water, honey, salt, and bitter root extract before she could taste it. It took a few nights, but she eventually learned she needed to drink and practice her cock-swallowing skills.

I left her face and walked around the side of her to make sure the rest was still safe.

Her left wing was clamped flat between a pair of painting canvases, supported by heavy chains leading to the wooden frame above us. Her right wing was banded at the wrist and mid-fingers, and both connected to a twin-band around her body, keeping it secure. I was so glad my old courier tube harness was useful for something.

She so hated this asymmetrical feeling. The first time we tried this she’d only lasted long enough for me to finish strapping her up before she told me, in no uncertain terms, that we would not do this again by saying she’d, “sooner do Birthday Anal to Mouth before doing this again”, as I removed everything.

I’d left her no sight, bound wings, body covered in a cheap, damp, ruined costume, mane and hair pulling against each other in a hopelessly bundled mass…

She’d hate that last part the most, if she could see it.

“Please, Icarus… My Stallion, please. Mercy…. Mercy, BUCKING MERCY! You’re supposed to respect my wishes…. You’re supposed to do what I want….”

I didn’t bother saying anything since she wouldn’t hear me. But she did feel the vicious wing slap across her flank, followed by the fire in her scalp and dock as her head thrashed around weakly.

Looks like that drink of water helped a little.

I turned and walked behind Shadow where a pen with two crystal lambs materialized. Using the same wingtip I pushed open the latch and let the hungry animals make a beeline for Shadow’s udders as I followed and watched. They both latched on, sucking and gnawing on her nipples, trying to get some food without a care about the whimpers and groans and head shaking coming from their owner.

Getting her into this position hadn’t been easy, especially with her having been drugged asleep. But after some struggling I got her on the padded board and belted into place at her flanks and shoulders to keep her from rolling off. Once there, getting the belts around her hind and forelegs against the inverted V’s at either end was simple. As it was she was now suspended a hoof’s width off the floor by chains, with a few at the ends to make sure she couldn’t swing more than that in any direction.

But that also made it so her teats were completely exposed to these little suckling monsters after I’d cut holes for them in her costume. I couldn’t just stop there, of course; her plot and cunt got the same treatment individually. It was cheap, so I didn’t mind that I’d ruined it. Also meant that I didn’t care about the “waste products” that had stained the material over the last….

I couldn’t believe it’d been this long she’d kept her strength so far.

Her head was swaying back and forth and her vocal strength was already used up, it sounded like. “I’m not a cow… please, mercy. No more. Icarus, please… Mercy, mercy mer--AGH! NO! STOP!” Maybe the lambs were impatient and chewing more. Won’t be the last time.

Now was my turn to use her body for my own.

Materializing a hollowed-out buttplug attached to a hose and bulb was simple enough, as was the pan of olive oil to dip it into. A quick dip of the tip and it was ready to slide into my love’s plot. A drop fell on her ponut, warning her, and her head lifted again. “What?! No…. not my plot. Don’t do this. No, please. Mercy, mercy, mercy, Stallion… Merc--SSSHHH! Cold!”

Oh, it wasn’t cold, exactly. Just underground room temperature. I’m surprised it was even a concern for her, considering I’d been keeping her body just uncomfortably chilly to keep her tired trying to stay warm. But a quick push, a little groan, and it was in. Always made me smile, making her look like she had a new tail falling off her flank. The fun part, now, was squeezing the bulb slowly to fill her plot with a delicious lubricant.

The lambs kept her whimpering and groaning with each impatient bite as I emptied the pan into her. That pan made sure I would have more than enough lube to enjoy her with. All those nights of using this delicious, expensive oil with our special dinners, and she asked me to do exactly this to her one day. My publicly proper mare; my in-secret whorse. That memory made my cock drop properly and slap my barrel with a wet, “plap.” I was so ready for her.

I pulled the plug out of her plot, landing it in the pan, and lined myself up. As soon as my first forehoof spanked the garish fake uniform cutie mark, she tried to shake again, tried to flex her wings, tried not to move her head. “Please, not my plot. I can’t cum like this. You can’t just do this, please, please!”

My cock landed on her plothole like it was aiming for it the whole time. Considering how she enjoyed it when she was in the mood for it, I almost felt bad that I was just using her like a purchased pussy. Since this wasn’t about me, exactly, I pushed just enough to dimple against her and waited, feeling the pulse of the blood in my cock. And more importantly I was waiting for her breath to slow down just a little so I could time this moment--

And, oh! That push of rattling air out of her, was delicious. There’s simply no way to know if it was a lost whimper or a scream or crying, but I know it was her plot filled and her teats chomped on at the same time. All she had in her after her breath returned was to gasp out, “Sweet merciful Luna, save me. Please. Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!” I was fucking her plot hard enough to push the suspension harness against the chains on each word and it was delightfully, evilly fun for me. Each word of her safe phrase fell off her lips like the spittle she wasn’t swallowing.

Like the cunt juices finally dropping from under my cock and coating my balls. Her body was enjoying this a lot, even if her brain was half-broken and refusing to accept it yet.

Leaning forward I was able to grab her ear in my teeth and chomped down. I don’t think I tasted any blood, so I hadn’t punctured anything, lucky me. Getting her to a doctor would have been hard to explain now. I could have just bitten her neck and claimed her like the mare she was, but she wasn’t that. She was a masturbation tool, a hole, a toy I was going to cum in, and quickly now.

“Don’t cum. Don’t cum there. Fuck my cunt. Take your mare. Please, have mercy. Let me cum, I can’t cum like this, Let Me Cum, Luna Damnit To Tartarus, please!” Oh, those words just pushed me over the edge straight away! I yanked on her ear, getting a howl of pain and frustrated, “NO! NO!”s from her as she felt her plot heat up with my cock cream coating her insides with every pulse of my flared cockhead.

As much as I wanted to enjoy her more or just stay in place I couldn’t. I opened my lips around her ear and blew spit leaving it wet and warm inside to humiliate her again. I walked my forehooves back, pushing myself up and pulled my flare back through her sugar walls. The wet plop from her ring and my cum was the perfect ending.

As I walked around in front of her the ewes paused, frozen in place, waiting to be brought back to life, such as their existence was.

“Please, let me cum. My wings, my legs, my nipples. Please Stallion, fuck my cunt, let me cum. Please let me. Have mercy.” Oh, my sweet artificially stupid Shadow’s voice mumbled, hoping I would hear and be merciful.

My hoof raised and I touched her spit-soaked ear. At the first touch, knowing I was right in front of her, she started pleading in a whispering breath. “Let me cum. Mercy, Stallion. Let me cum. Please, sir. Mercy, mercy, mercy.”

At least she wasn’t fighting me as I pulled the wax and cotton plug from her head. I had been waiting for this chance for literal nights and I was almost shaking with anticipation. “You want to cum, hmm? You want a cock in your cunt so you can, do you? Fine, my little nearly broken toy. Here’s what’s about to happen.”

Her voice cracked in pain from her nipples being assaulted again as I willed the ewes back to work. “Now, Shadow, I want to know just how much you want to cum,” I whispered in her open ear. I had planned this out for so long in secret. So very, very long.

And just a second after that she felt a heavy “THUMP!” of wood above and behind her, shaking the entire support. Shadow’s head lifted so tiredly, like she barely had the capacity to know where “forward” was from her now. “Yes, cum, please. Mercy, please. What was--?”

I didn’t let her finish the question and simply ordered, “Tornado, Drop!”

Her head did lift this time, aimed right at me. Not only did her breath hitch, I could see the strain in her forehead that her eyebrows had been yanked as high as her skin would allow, meaning her eyes were wide open under the blindfold. Watching her ears slam full back and her breath barely functioning let me know she was utterly terrified and in Fight Or Flight mode.

Perfect.

I was savouring these words, this Faustian bargain, for my nearly broken, cum-hungry toy. “You felt that, didn’t you? You want to cum with a cock in your cunt, but here’s your choice.”

The deep screeching whinny above Shadow and the hot THUMP of eager, hungry, drooling cock on her flank drove her into a level of terror I don’t think she could have envisioned before. But me? I was licking this up, literally, as my tongue devoured the tears seeping from under the blinders, leaving wide, wet streaks on her cheek.

Just to make sure she was paying attention, I backhoofed her face again and spoke carefully, enunciating every syllable, putting as much artistry into my voice as any painter to their canvas. “You’re going to be fucked by an honest to goodness horse.”

I was so proud that she still had any strength left to thrash and screech with. It lasted all of three seconds before she froze again, giving me the opening to go on.

“Listen closely, you needy little cunt. Tornado is no over-eager colt. He’s a seasoned sire stallion, almost twice your size, as black as your coat, with a cock that’s pinker than your insides.” Oh, this was too much fun to hear that little, “Hih… no… hih… no… hih…” of terrified breath from her.

Tornado’s forehooves on the safety bar over us shifted as his body skittered sideways a little. “His cock… it’s under the uniform on my back. Sweet merciful Luna, no. Icarus, ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’. Please! ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’! PLEASE!”

All I could do is smirk, lean into her ear and whisper, “You still have seventeen days left in this contract of ours. Remember what you agreed to? ‘No safeword, full stop’. That was your addition, I think, wasn’t it? Along with the, ‘No Permanent Damage’ rule.”

“No. No more, please. Mercy, mercy, mercy. Please! He’s going to fuck me. You’re going to make me fuck an animal! NO! He’s fucking between my wings. No, please! You can fuck me again. You can make me cum, please!”

The sadistic smile on my face had to have been coming through my voice as I took my time savouring this. “Here’s what’s going to happen, my little needy cunt. He’s going to give you what you want; a cock fucking your cunt so you can finally cum. He’s going to fill you up with that flare of his, cum deep in you. And that flare of his will be pressed against your back wall, flood you--”

She was shaking head head muttering, “No, please. Cum, please. Stallion. Fuck me, please Stallion. ‘Mercy, mercy, …’ ” She couldn’t even finish this time.

“He’ll give you a false pregnancy. Your teats will feed those crystal lambs finally.” I couldn’t help myself and willed those hungry ewes to bite and suck again, getting her lovely voice to grunt with all the smoothness of a gravel road as Tornado’s flanks started hunching again. “O-o-or-r-r….?” I lead.

She grabbed on this immediately, teeth gritting through the pain. “Or?”

I finally dropped the last card I held. “Or…. he fucks you back there so he can’t get you pregnant.”

Making Tornado stomp and whinny impatiently again was what made this moment almost perfect for my sadistic fun. Adding his hitching flanks, sawing his cock across her back and painting her costume, inside and out, with horse precum was the metaphorical Icing on the Cake. “So, you get to cum on a cock now, the last time I’ll let you for the next seventeen nights. Maybe he’ll give you a false pregnancy for the next three months, with all the milk dropping that goes with it. Or he fucks your super oiled ass.”

Shadow’s mouth had been working, shivering, like she was trying to find the bravery to say anything. “I can’t cum from my ass. Not like this. Please, Stallion. Mercy.” her voice was barely a sound on her breath. What emotion was past Abject Terror? I don’t know what it’s called, only that this was where I was dragging her through.

“What’s it going to be, cunt? You get to cum one last time for the next three weeks and risk being my long-term milk mare, or let him cum so deep in you that it’ll come out your nose? Better tell me now to I can guide him before his cock finds a hole on its--”

The dream realm stopped.

Just as it had last week.

I was back in the throne room with Princess Luna in the middle of the Cone of Silence with her eyes on me. Eyes that were open as wide as I image Moon Shadow’s would have been. Her breath panting in something between fear and excitement, I think.

“How…” The Princess voice paused so she could take a few calming breaths while her eyes darted around the floor, making sure the wards were still intact and active.

I just waited patiently. I was used to this dream experience; She was not. Truth be told, it did bring me a little perverse pride to know that I had surprised the Mistress of Dreams. I held my trained attention-face to not give anything away.

After collecting herself she spoke slowly, in the way politicians are hated for. It was a very carefully crafted question. “Icarus, Did you and your Moon Shadow ever consummate such an experience in your waking lives?”

I think my face held, but the pit of my stomach couldn’t. I felt it drop to my hooves by way of my diaphragm, preventing me from answering instantly. Because of that pause I did the only thing I could to show my sincerity and turned my face to her’s and met her eyes.

“No, Majesty.”

Luna didn’t move at first, digesting my answer. After an eternity in my mind she nodded, lit her horn and fired a quick burst of magic around us. There was a crackle of arcane power as the runes expired and the air around us normalized, ending the slight blue tint of the room. To replace that power, it seemed, she spoke out clearly and commandingly. “Lieutenant Noctis! Enter.”

I heard the doors behind me open; always prompt and professional, we guards are.

“Your call is responded to, Princess.” There must have been a shift change because I recognized that voice. Lunar Guard Lieutenant Nubila Noctis of the Royal Throne Room Honour Guard Detail. Her reputation as one of the most exacting perfectionists is not understated. Fortunately she’s the one most likely to whisper a joke to one of her detachment while on duty just to see who flinches.

“The spires are red tonight, Lieutenant.” Luna’s code phrase choices are never discussed in the guard, but they are apparently always entertaining.

“--and your hooficure looks like it was done by a deaf Ursa, Princess.”

Did I say, “entertaining”? I think this one was of the L-T’s choosing.

“We will be retiring to our chambers for the remainder of the night. Take your detail and escort Guard Icarus to the Greeting Card office. His personal protection is your responsibility until that time. After that your detail may be dismissed for the remainder of the evening. Icarus, return to your duties as normal. We will discuss that card program and the possible corporate espionage problems again in due course.”

I heard from behind me, “At your direction, Princess” as I flicked my ears in silent acknowledgement while Princess Luna turned and walked out the back of the throne room into the castle proper.

TAP-TAP!

My training kicked right in and I marched in place in time with the L-T’s butt.

TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!

I started my turn, spinning in place to face the doors at the end of eight paces, then marched forward for the doors. Four paces ahead of me Nubila fell into formation leading me down the hall. As we passed the rest of the detail they joined the formation, having already heard the commands. The next two paced up alongside me, leaving room for us each to open our wings if need be. The last two fell in behind, closing the Pentagram Formation at two wings away from each other.

Halfway to the Card Office the tail ahead of me flicked just a little too much to the side, giving me a quick flash of a piece of jewelry she was wearing under her tail this shift. A simple white circlet with a red border and cross-bar at an angle.

Do Not Enter.

Cute.

At the office my security detail stopped and I gave a formal hoof salute in gratitude. But I still had one last thing to do. “Lieutenant, a question if I may?”

She was curious and nodded. “What’s on your mind, copy boy?”

Copy Boy? I was going to ask quietly, but now? Nope. The whole detail was going to hear this.

“Instead of, ‘Do Not Enter’, may I suggest you wear, ‘Dangerous Curves’? I understand it would be more appropriate for your personality. Good Night, all. May Luna watch over you.”

As the door closed behind me I could almost hear the details’ collective jaws drop before one of them smugly commented, “Who knew a Greeting Card Writer would be able to come up with a comeback like that under pressure?”

Oh! The L-T’s butt was chaffed.

“You’re ALL dismissed until Last Light! And not a WORD gets out about this or so HELP me, I will find an underground vault for you to protect!”

Copy Boy.

Ri-i-i-ight.