Twilight Sparkle and the Stupid Original Pony

“You again!” Twilight snorted.

How many others had the spell brought to her in the months since I last saw her? Was I the only repeat? How had she welcomed them?

“Did you expect somepony else in my dreams, Princess?”

“I wonder if I cast the right spell. I wanted casual random hookups, but instead I get mister creepy stalker.”

“Excuse me for worshiping the ground you walk on!”

“I didn’t ask you to!”

“Maybe you bought the wrong spell, Princess. Instead of ‘Abra-plug-me-now-kadabra’ you got the spell to find the creature that loves you most in the multiverse.”

“Bah, I’d ask for my bits back but I didn’t buy it, I stole it.”

“Of course,” I said, “but I was trying to be nice about it.”

“Whatever. Normally Cadance keeps her scrolls perfectly organized.”

“Let me guess. It was her only defense to keep you from ‘organizing’ for her when you were a filly.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Mister. Creepy. Stalker.”

“Maybe somepony intentionally mislabeled the spell. Set you up.” I bent down my face close to hers.

For a moment Twilight looked alarmed.

“Set you up,” I whispered portentously, “for a lifetime of happiness beyond dreams.”

Twilight laughed heartily at that notion.

“And you propose that you might be my lifetime of happiness?”

“If you will accept me, I will live for nothing else.”

“And your own happiness, too, rutting me?”

I looked her in the eye. “Yes, please, I accept this rut, so please it your Highness.”

She blushed slightly and looked away.

“Well so start rutting. We’ll see if you make me happy or if I need to kick you again.”

“Perhaps both, your worship,” I leaned close again, kissed her forehead at the base of her horn.

Even if she didn’t, wouldn't, love me, being close to her filled my heart; I took a step back and turned a pirouette for sheer joy. When I faced her again she looked at me quizzically. With a liquid motion I ran my fingertip along her jaw, down her neck, skirting the invisible demarcation between dermatomes, teasing the sensations from one nerve path to the other and I realized that I was feeling more than I ever had before, my awareness of her body was amplified by the time I had spend making sex to her as a sightless creature of pure tactile sensation. With this knowledge I would serve her as no lover ever had.

Twilight shivered and closed her eyes.

I lowered my head in shame as I massaged her. I shouldn’t have compared myself to a lover, not even in my mind. Not when she still felt like she did. I must seal my mind away from such thoughts.

—

“It’s not like I like you or anything…” she said after she came the second time.

“of course not,” I agreed quietly.

“…but I’m glad that when that monster body I put you died it didn’t kill you for real.”

“Thank you, gracious Highness,”

“How did you do that? Talk in my head…”

“I don’t know, I think it was an innate ability of whatever creature I was. Oh, mmmmmm”

“Getting close?”

“Aghnnn, yes, Princess.”

“Pull out, finish me with your fingers and mouth.”

There was a complex sadness in her voice.

Confused by her command, I silently knelt to comply, kissing, fingering, licking, massaging. Forcing myself to humbly submit to her will.

Imagination flared and I fantasized the situation reversed, a purple face eagerly planted between my legs.

“Absurd,” I thought to myself, “she’s not… I don’t even…”

Reality intruded in the form of Twilight’s orgasmic moaning. Her effort to be silent made the sounds of her pleasure even more compelling. If only she would let me enjoy it too.

—

“I’m done,” she announced and stepped away. I had been leaning against her and fell without support.

“Princess?” I asked from the ground.

“Still hard?” she asked as I looked up at her.

“Yes, Highness, desperately.”

My penis was painfully erect, the skin stretched taut, the shaft aching with need, and ready to serve her will.

“Are you still persisting in believing the impossible?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“You could back down before it’s too late.”

I shook my head ‘no’, in spite of a growing sense of confusion and alarm. Too late?

“So be it.” Her sad expression hardened. “Time for you to learn your place, peasant. Get yourself off by hand.”

I raised myself back onto my knees began masturbating myself slowly, bemused by her strange demand.

“Hurry up! You don’t need to enjoy it.”

I grasped my balls with my other hand I began vehemently stroking my dick.

“Close, your Highness,” I gasped after a moment.

“Catch the mess with your hand.”

What in Helheim was she on about? I cupped my right hand under the tip of my cock as I ejaculated in humiliating surges. There was no pleasure in the shame. As I knelt before her with a handful of semen I felt only hollowness, not release. My spent member withered to flaccid pathos.

“Eww,” she said, looking askance at the fluid collected in my palm. “Gross. Now rub it on your face.”

I stared at her. What?

“Obey me. Do it now.”

The come was already getting cold as I smeared it on myself.

“Look at you,” she sneered. “What a filthy slut you are, what a total whore. Are you a dirty whore?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, devastated, bereft. How was my love so flawed that it drove the Princess of Friendship to such behavior?

“Yes, what?” she demanded icily.

“Yes, Princess!” I answered from absolute rock bottom.

“More detail.”

“Yes, I am a dirty whore, Princess!”

No deeper humiliation was possible.

“That’s right. Do you somehow think you are worthy of a Princess? If you ever see me looking like that you’ll know that you've conquered me entirely. But don’t hold your breath. Now hold still while I lift a leg…”

I was still crying when I woke.