The Impersonation Game

Chapters

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

Part One

Prince-consort Shining Armor of the Crystal Kingdom is about as capable of a ruler as a stallion can be. He’s no Princess, for sure—he lacks some vital pieces of equipment—but he’s formally educated as well as practically experienced. There are very few problems he cannot solve or work around.

Except, of course, for a stubborn wife: one of the few things in the universe that doesn’t make sense to Shining’s male brain.

“There’s no law saying they have to be nice to me, Shining.”

“And there’s no law saying you have to let them insult you, either!”

Cadance leans close to her mirror, inspecting her appearance. She’s scheduled for another summit with Equestria’s most notorious diplomats this evening—diplomats who take her title of the Princess of Love too literally, in his opinion—and she wants to look her best, apparently. “No,” she says again, in response to his earlier offer: “I do not want you present. You will upset a delicately crafted balance, dear.”

“Delicate, huh?”

She plucks at her mane—far too much grooming and presentation for ponies who really don’t deserve to see her at her best—then turns to face him. A slim smile presses between her lips.

“Yes. Delicate. This is the long game, Shining. And if it secures the future of our Kingdom and its subjects—”

“Then you’ll put up with letting them harass you?”

“Them? Or Ambassador Wing?”

“None of them treat you like you deserve.”

“But you don’t care about any of them except Wing, right?”

Shining growls. She’s right, of course. The delegates are creeps, idiots, and narcissistic, self-absorbed diplomats—but none of them raise his hackles like Wing does.

“Fine. You shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“And you shouldn’t let him get under your skin like that, Shining,” she says, with that tone he hates. “I know you mean well. And I know you are more than capable of handling Ambassador Wing. You would send that poor pony running all the way home with his tail between his legs if he had to face you.” She lifts a hoof and cups his cheek, her horn glowing ever so faintly. “That’s exactly why you cannot come. He has what we need, and we barely have what he wants. We’re already on the back hoof, and if you get in his face then we lose more than he does.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes her hoof away. He’s more than experienced enough to feel her innate magic attempting to soothe his emotions, and sometimes all it does is the opposite. “I don’t plan on getting in anypony’s face, Cadey. But if I’m there, maybe he’ll think twice before treating you like he does. Or I could go talk to him before the ceremonies. Insulting you is one thing. I know what happened the last time.”

Cadance turns back to the mirror. “Nothing happened,” she says with a sigh. “You’re listening to tabloids and jumping to conclusions.”

“The last time you dealt with him you tore the bed apart in anger.”

Cadance glances over her shoulder at their bed, now almost exactly a year old, then shrugs. “Summits are stressful—with or without the Dragon Ambassador.”

“His behavior is unacceptable anywhere in the Kingdom, never mind in front of a Princess.”

“We’re supposed to celebrate cultural differences, not fear them.”

“He threatened to burn this city and its inhabitants to the ground.”

“Oh, that’s just typical Dragon posturing. It’s all for show.”

“He tried to rape you!”

“Please. That’s how Dragons flirt.”

“He’s not a Dragon!”

“He might as well be. Have you smelled him? So spicy!” She gives a little wiggle. “Must be his diet. Did you hear he eats meat?”

Cadance claims she’s stressed out, and claims she dislikes him, but she’s practically prancing around, a big smile on her face. Just from the thought of dealing with the ambassador. Actually, Shining Armor probably understands his wife just fine. He just doesn’t like what that means.

He scowls and tries not to stomp his hoof like a foal, but she notices anyways. She turns away from the mirror and stands in front of him. She’s taller than he is, something he only seems to notice when they’re having an argument like this.

“Why, Shining—are you jealous?”

“Well—” He doesn’t like lying to his wife, and she can usually tell. “Yeah.”

She tilts her head. “Jealous of what?” she asks, circling him slowly. “Do you wish you got to make demands of our tiny, precariously-perched Kingdom? Or do you like to say mean things to a Princess, and hurt her feelings? Maybe you want to grope me in public and get away with it?”

“He groped you?”

“Don’t change the subject, dear.”

“No, I’m jealous that he isn’t held back from speaking his mind, and . . . ”

“And?”

“ . . . and I sometimes get the feeling you respect him more than me. Despite his behavior.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Cadance holds strong eye contact and shakes her head. “Yes, I respect him. No ordinary pony could build a life for himself in the Dragonlands without exceptional drive and guile. And he while he represents Dragonlord Ember, he’s earned his reputation on his own. I respect him because of his behavior, in the same way you respect a sharp tool or dangerous machine. But I don’t respect him more than I respect you. You have your own reputation, you know. The girls at my board game night are always talking about you. Did you know that? They’re jealous of me. That I landed such a caring, wonderful husband.”

He smiles for a few seconds, feeling guilty for complaining when she’s complimenting him, before realizing she’s trying to distract him. “And that caring, wonderful husband is worried for you right now.”

“What exactly do you think happened last time, Shiny?” Cadance asks, tilting her head.

Shining presses his lips, recalling with painful clarity what his guards reported last year. “That pony insulted you to your face, in front of everypony you work with and all your subjects. He groped you, apparently. And then he tried to fuck you.”

“See? Tried. And he didn’t succeed. What else could he possibly do?”

“He could try again.”

Cadance rolls her eyes. It’s not that she doesn’t understand him—Shining gets the feeling that Cadance simply doesn’t care. Ponies like to objectify his wife. He’s long gotten used to that. He hears the rumors and the lies, the boasts and the brags, and he tries to ignore them. But Cadance doesn’t have to try. She barely notices when ponies stare at her body, or make rude remarks around her. She laughs when ponies insinuate, and euphemise, and imply. She flirts back, secure in the certainty that that’s all it will ever be. The problem is that one day, one of those ponies is going to do more than flirt, and Cadance might not be ready for it.

Watching Cadance prepare herself to get teased and insulted while she refuses his help is like watching flood waters lapping at the edge of a dike, threatening to spill over at any moment.

They’re interrupted by a knock at the door. A crystal Earth Pony stallion pokes his head in. “Princess?”

“Come in, Goldenrod,” Cadance says. Cadance’s personal assistant.

Goldenrod closes the door behind himself. “Ambassador Wing and his escorts have arrived.”

“Finally. Has he been shown . . . ” Cadance trails off. “Escorts, plural? Not, Wing and his escort?”

Goldenrod shakes his head. “No, Princess. A young mare and stallion accompanied him. From their . . . behavior, as well as their choice of outfits, I think they actually are escorts.” A faint hint of a blush spreads over his face. “They may be here to intimidate or unsettle the other diplomats—or you, Princess.”

Cadance and Shining share a look. Crimson Wing is well known as the Dragonland’s Ambassador to Ponykind, but he’s also well known for his Dragon tendencies—including a sexual deviancy that puts Shining on edge. Last year, in addition to allegedly molesting Princess Cadance, Ambassador Wing seduced and fucked a number of the Castle’s pages and staff, all of whom knew better and had to be fired afterwards. Goldenrod’s assessment is probably correct.

Cadance shakes her head. “Whatever. Keep an eye on them. What’s next?”

Goldenrod pulls out a bundle of scrolls and spreads them out over her desk. The two spend a few minutes discussing their agenda, the other delegates, and strategies. It doesn’t matter that they’re fretting over trade routes and taxes, tourism and immigration; it might as well be Shining with his favorite captain, discussing rescue operations after some natural disaster. Shining stands back, letting them work. He likes Goldenrod.

Soon Goldenrod makes his exit. “Good luck, Princess. Prince.”

Once the door closes, Shining says, “I’m coming with you—”

“Shining Armor! No guests are allowed in the summit. None of the other delegates have brought their wives or husbands. We don’t even allow bodyguards. It’s private. Only a single assistant to fetch documents and send messages; that’s it. So unless you want Ambassador Wing thinking you’re my secretary, stay out of this. Understand?”

They stare each other down.

Shining Armor hates when she pulls rank. It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it. He understands her station is above his and has no problem deferring to her in matters of state. There is a clear division of responsibilities, like in any successful marriage. He commands the military; she commands the Kingdom. He’s martial; she’s marital. He stocks their pantry; she picks the décor. He admires her authority, and in secret he finds it incredibly attractive.

But nopony likes being told no, or being made to feel helpless, especially when it feels like Cadance is keeping secrets.

“Shining?” Cadance asks, waiting.

He bows low, almost low enough to kiss the floor. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Cadance scowls. “Shiny—”

“It’s fine. Good luck today. I really do mean that. When does your summit start, again?”

“In a couple hours.” She leans close and peers at his face. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” he says, shrugging.

She sighs. “Well, if I don’t know what it is, I can’t be blamed for whatever you do, so—good luck to you too, I guess.” She kisses him, and nuzzles his forehead.

As he turns to leave, she adds, “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Maybe he can work within her parameters.

Most ponies like to joke that if they get on the law’s bad side, they’ll wind up in the dungeon. And given that Cadance is the Princess of Love, it’s inevitable that they’d imagine some sort of kink dungeon with whips and chains and ruby-red candles.

Shining Armor knows better. He stands at the end of a long tunnel excavated a dozen stories down into the bedrock, in front of one of several heavily reinforced doors that separate the good, honest ponies of the Crystal Kingdom from the worst of the worst.

With two Guards watching, he pulls a deceptively plain looking key from inside his uniform and unlocks the door. It’s so quiet down here that the little key is almost deafening—in fact, were it not for a sound-dampening spell on the key itself, ponies could get injured listening to its unlocking magic. The door itself opens rather lamely, revealing an empty, silent darkness.

He glances at the two Guards behind him. Crew and Dilettante stand vigil, faces impassive. Not for the first time he wonders what they think of these visits, whether they have reservations about his actions—whether today will be the day they tell their Princess about his guest.

“Leave us. If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, lock down the entrance and come find me. Remember to challenge anypony that exits, and apprehend anypony that tries to leave otherwise.” He hands over the key so it will not wind up in the wrong hooves.

His Guards snap-to and march back down the hallway. Reservations or not, this isn’t the first time he’s come down here, and though there’s no reason any sane pony would want to visit She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named they’ve long since learned not to ask questions.

Shining gulps, feeling his heart race. Just because it’s routine doesn’t mean it’s gotten any easier, or any less thrilling despite the guilt.

Once the Guards are out of sight, he steps inside, leaving the door open behind him. The light from the tunnel seems to evaporate. He ignites his horn, illuminating the wet dank stone around him in a sickly sweet pink that doesn’t quite reach the far wall.

After a few moments, a weak voice speaks from within. “Shiny?”

Shining Armor cringes. He recognizes that voice. “No, no, no. Don’t do that,” he says, taking a tentative step forward. The light from his horn reveals a young Unicorn mare. “Come on. That’s just mean.”

Lying on her back, shivering, with her forehooves shackled up against the wall, Twilight Sparkle looks up at him, and her face is so ashen and broken that Shining can feel his strength leave him.

“Please, Shiny. It’s so cold down here, and my horn—it’s not working. S-s-something’s wrong with my horn.”

He looks away. She’s always had her hoof on his emotions, able to pluck his heart strings like a violinist. Even now he wants to trust her. “Can we not play this game today? I don’t have much time.”

“Shiny . . . I’m scared!”

He clenches his jaw. Hearing his little sister cry out for help while she shivers and coughs triggers something deep inside him, some fundamental need to protect her and cherish her and give her all the love he can muster.

He gulps, and steps closer, closing the door behind him. “I’m here,” he whispers, crouching beside her. He trails his hoof through her mane. It’s tangled and filthy, covered in sweat and dirt and even a bit of blood, like the rest of her body.

“Big brother,” she whispers, nuzzling him. Her face is so cold. If Shining ever finds the ponies that trapped her down here—“I knew you’d come for me. I love you.”

“What do you need?”

Twilight slumps back against the wall and uses the slack in her chains to reach for her horn. Glimmering in the pink light from Shining’s horn is a sturdy, angular, well polished ring of stellarium grounding her magic. “Please. It hurts. I can’t use my magic. I need my magic, Shiny.” She scratches at the ring, trying to pull it off, but it doesn’t budge. She whimpers. “It won’t come off. It feels like I’m suffocating. I can’t breathe!”

Shining knows full well that he shouldn’t, that she’s wearing the grounding ring for a good reason, that she deserves to be down here for all she’s done, but the need to break rules and do what’s right is the reason he’s down here in the first place. When has Twilight ever failed to save her friends or family from disaster?

“Shiny?”

“Okay, it’s okay.” He reaches down and hugs her. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

She sniffles. “Th-thanks. Okay. Okay. Finally. Just . . . ” She looks up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you, big brother.”

“I love you too,” he whispers. He touches his forehead to hers and gazes into her green eyes. No matter her flaws, no matter her crimes, he just can’t say no to her—

Shining gasps and leaps backward, losing his step and falling on his ass. “Damn it!”

Twilight giggles.

Shining stares at the ceiling and wonders if he ought to turn around and try once more to get inside that summit via normal channels. “Okay. Ha ha. You’ve had your fun. Can we move on?”

Twilight clicks her tongue. “You don’t visit for weeks and the first thing you do is tell me not to have fun? You’re so mean.”

This isn’t the first time she’s been in disguise. She usually is. His little door ritual certainly gives her advanced warning. She’s polite enough not to disguise herself as his wife, but he’s faced off against his parents, his Guards, his friends, his mentors, and even himself.

But it is the first time he’s met his little sister down here.

Shining climbs to his hooves. “I don’t know if you heard, but my sister has wings now. She’s much older, too.” The Twilight in front of him looks like she did when she attended Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

“But Big Brother. I thought you liked me this way. You said it yourself. Remember? I may be a grown up Princess now, but I’ll always be your little sister Twily.” She smiles huge.

“My little sister Twily wouldn’t play mind games with me.”

“That’s what makes me better than she is.” She leans back against the wall, chains clanking. “I missed you.”

Shining shrugs. “It’s hard to find excuses to come down here.”

She sighs loudly, wistfully. “Isn’t that how it always is? You grow up, build a family, take on responsibilities, and before you know it you need to find excuses to sneak away to an underground bunker to visit your long lost love.”

“You’re not my long lost love.”

She smiles. “So? What’s the excuse this time?”

“I need a favor,” he admits.

Twilight hmms. “Do you, now? You’re not just here for the pleasure of my company? Oh, I get it. You’re bored of me. We know each other so well. Too well. Hmm. How about a change of pace? I’ve impersonated hundreds of ponies across the entire spectrum of Equestrian life over my many, many years. I’m sure I could provide you with stimulating simulated conversation.”

“Really.”

“Absolutely. Would you like to talk strategy with General Stonewall?”

Her body flashes with green flame. Seeing his little sister wreathed in Changeling magic is disquieting, but he’s relieved when that flame reveals a taller, bristling Earth Pony stallion wearing an immaculately pressed uniform. Interestingly, the grounding ring has vanished. Shining has been assured many times over that it’s still there, even under Changeling magic, but it’s still unnerving to see the Earth Pony free of magical grounding. At least he’s no longer being shown his little sister in chains.

“No thanks,” Shining says. Although the prospect of talking to the real Stonewall is appealing, he’s on a schedule.

“Mmm? Maybe you’d prefer to complain to Mother Nightingale about your struggles with parenthood?” Another flash of fire, revealing an old Pegasus mare Shining can only assume looks like Mother Nightingale did. “Confess your sins to Father Aspen—or any of the handsome young colts he kept around for companionship?” Another flash, and a very young colt gazes back at him, looking uncomfortably hungry and inexplicably ready despite being chained to the wall. “Or maybe . . . ”

He peers closer, trying to see something in the very depths of Shining’s soul, and his smoldering eyes flash again. The young churchgoing whore licks his lips before flames engulf his body, revealing a proud looking red-coated Pegasus stallion adorned with traditional Dragon jewelry and piercings—and sporting a slick, cum-covered erection reaching up and over his stomach.

“Maybe you’d like to know how a private summit between Princess Cadance and the good Ambassador Wing would go.”

Shining inhales.

“Thought so,” Ambassador Crimson Wing says, settling back and managing, somehow, despite being chained to the wall, to look absolutely in charge. This one’s voice and mannerisms are impeccable, and he oozes that perfect mix of Dragon and Pony. Like he’s spent actual time with the real Ambassador. “Don’t get too excited. Your Kingdom is in good hooves. Princess Cadance will get what she needs and I’ll get what I want. You really ought to have more faith in her particular brand of diplomacy. No, I don’t know the real Ambassador Wing personally. I just know the type. And no,” he says, rolling his eyes, when Shining opens his mouth to ask, “I can’t read your mind.”

Of course, that’s exactly what he would say if he could read Shining’s mind.

“Maybe another time,” Shining suggests, trying not to look at Wing’s crotch. Are the real Crimson Wing’s genitals pierced, too?

He shrugs, stretches his legs—it’s hard not to look—and says, “Then you’re here for information. Some Changeling has infiltrated your inner circle and you need help discovering who it is.”

Shining narrows his eyes. “Has one?”

Wing shrugs. “How would I know? I’ve been down here this whole time. But you’re so diligent about checking your Castle Guard for infiltrators, and your staff are so well trained. Assuming they are your staff.”

“I think we’re good,” he says, thinking over his Code Green protocols.

“Oh!” Wing gasps. “I figured it out.” He nods. “You think she’s having an affair with me.”

Shining levels a stare. “No. I don’t.”

Wing isn’t intimidated. “Oh, sure you do. It’s just one of a thousand worries, worming its way through the back of your mind. Everypony always talks about her that way. And she has to deal with creeps and molesters pretending to be dignitaries and representatives. How does she score such good deals with everypony? Nopony ever seems to go home angry after meeting her. She is the Princess of Love, after all. Maybe she’s using her Love magic on them. Soothing their emotions and all that.” He leans back and shrugs. “Or maybe she’s just fucking them. It’s what I would do. Why sacrifice the hard-earned progress of my wonderful citizens if I could just open my legs—”

“Stop it!” he snaps. “Enough with the mind games. I get it. You’re so clever. You know how to get inside my head. I’m not fucking surprised. You spent weeks in there before the wedding. So just stop.”

“That hurts. Come now, Prince Armor. If you don’t plan on being a little nicer to me, then you might as well turn around and leave. I’m sure your Guards are starting to wonder what’s taking you so long, and you wouldn’t want them asking questions about why a visiting dignitary is locked away in your dungeon—and in such a questionable state.”

Sometimes he wonders why he bothers. Every single visit she seems to find the quickest path to unsettling him, and every single time he falls for it. He groans and turns to walk away, then groans again and turns back around.

“You’re right—I’m still unsettled after all you did. But that’s no reason for me to be antagonistic. I’m sorry.”

“Aww, you even mean it. How honorable. You really are a bastion of integrity, aren’t you?”

Not today, he thinks wryly. “Can Changeling magic disguise another pony?”

For once, Ambassador Wing seems surprised. He’s normally so unflappable, normally a step ahead of Shining, no matter what form he’s in. After a moment, his eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I need to impersonate a pony. My wife won’t let me into the summit, but I’m convinced the diplomats are hiding something.”

Seconds stretch out as Wing considers his request.

“Well, it depends,” he drawls, finally, looking curious.

“On what?”

“On whether I would rather keep you from making a terrific mistake or find a way to watch you make a terrific mistake. We’re best friends, but you can be so entertaining, after all.”

“Oh, come on. Can you do it?”

“Yes, Changeling magic can disguise another creature. Temporarily, of course, and it’s exhausting for the Changeling. But a disguise is nothing without the correct behavior. You haven’t been bred to impersonate ponies. You’d have to know this pony like you know your own wife. And Prince Armor—you’re a lousy liar.”

“That won’t be a problem,” he says. “I just need the disguise. I plan on doing as little interacting as possible.”

Wing shrugs. “Well, like I said. It’s exhausting for the Changeling, and I don’t plan on wasting away for the sake of such a flimsy plan. Come on, Prince Armor. You know I’m not going to just give it to you”

“You want love,” Shining says. “I expected as much. Let’s cuddle together—”

Ambassador Wing cocks an eyebrow.

Shining coughs. “I mean, take off that disguise, then let’s cuddle together and get this—”

“Nope! Your love is tasty, but it’s been a long time since you’ve been down here, and Changeling Magic is expensive—especially applied to another creature.”

“So . . . what do you need?” He looks around the cell, then back towards the door. “You know I can’t let you out.”

“Come on, Sunshiny . . . you know what I need.”

There’s a flash of green behind him. When he turns back around, Ambassador Wing is gone.

Oh.

Twilight shifts her weight onto her side, hooves scratching at the floor. “Good thing we’re all alone down here. And with my horn grounded like this . . . I’m so helpless,” she breathes, twisting around. “So defenseless.” Her chains clink as she crosses one foreleg atop the other and faces the wall. “And so . . . vulnerable.”

Standing on her hindlegs and hanging from her forehooves, she arches her back and flicks her tail to the side, and—

Oh, Princess.

Her pussy is exactly as he remembers it from that single long, winter night all those years ago. The same color, the same smooth, curving shapes. Even the smell is familiar. Shining still vividly recalls hours spent in her tiny bed while the two of them explored each other’s bodies and tried desperately to satisfy their insatiable, hormone-driven hungers. Their bodies wrapped together, dripping with saliva and streaked with cum. The risk that their parents would overhear them only drove them harder. Orgasm after hushed orgasm. And a glowing face looking up at him: enraptured, smiling, loving. Pleading, “Please, don’t stop.” Trusting him, even as he scrambles to cram as much of his cock inside her, over and over. Shining knows at a glance that her face is soft, her lips are full, that her body is warm, and that the pussy right in front of his nose is tight and wet and comforting. He’ll just barely bottom out and fill her to the brim while her insides swaddle and protect his cock.

Maybe it was the fear of being caught or the shame of having fallen so far; maybe it was the thrill of discovery. Or maybe the two of them really do love each other. Cadance is a wonderful lover, and nostalgia tints everything a little rosy, but making love to his wife will never be as sublime as fucking his little Twily.

Still balancing against the wall, her back still arched, Twilight looks over her shoulder at him. She looks like she’s remembering the same thing, somehow. “Do you think about fucking me like this?” she asks, slowly swaying her rump side to side. The motion is intoxicating. “You say I’m supposed to be older, but . . . ” She sighs. “I bet I’m perfect just as I am.”

He nods, his head following that bobbing, side-to-side motion. Blind to literally everything else.

“Come on, Shining. Don’t you want to fuck your little sister?”

“Of—of course not,” he lies, licking his lips. He knows, distantly, that his guards will be back in no time at all.

She sighs and flicks her tail in his face. “Oh, big brother. You know I won’t tell anypony. It’ll be our dirty little secret.”

“Dirty little secret . . . ” He knows she’s trying to trick him, trying to escape, but it’s so tempting.

“But it won’t work with this silly thing on my horn. It’ll hurt too much. Can you take it off for me?”

It’s not like the grounding ring is doing anything, really. She can still transform. And there are guards down the hall. What’s the harm? “N—no. I can’t. Not supposed to.”

“But I’m so horny,” she breathes. “If you do, I’ll let you fuck my pretty little sister pussy.”

Her pretty little sister pussy winks, dripping her juices down her thigh. Every breath he takes is infused with her scent.

He leans closer, nosing between her thighs, and inhales.

Twilight squeals and thrusts her butt back in his face, smothering him. Almost knocks him backwards. He opens his mouth only for her to lean forward and pull away—then slap herself back against him.

“Oh—” Slap! “Big brother—” Slap! “I missed you!” she groans, slapping onto his face over and over.

Shining growls and grabs her hips, pulls her close. Squeezes hard so she can’t get away. Her tail flicks him in the forehead, spreading her scent over him. Distantly, over the booming in his ears, he hears her squeal and moan. He opens his mouth as wide as he can—difficult to do with her ass covering his face—and licks, dragging his tongue up from her groin across her pussy to slobber over her asshole. Oh, fuck, she tastes good.

“Ah! Shining! You’re so rough,” she whines, grinding her pussy over his mouth.

Shining shuffles forward on his hind legs, his forelegs balancing atop her rump, and traps her up against the wall. He made the mistake years ago of leaving her, letting her go, and he won’t make it again. He licks her pussy, crotch to dock, again and again, then spears his tongue between her pussy lips, distantly listening to her squeals and licking where she seems to enjoy it the most. Between his hindlegs he can feel his crotch burn with arousal, his cock slapping against his stomach.

He needs to fuck this filly.

“Sh . . . Shine . . . Shining,” she pants. “If you . . . keep that up . . . ”

He reaches a hoof down her flank and around her hip, rubbing her belly right where she likes it, between the swell of her hips, where her womb would be. The implication isn’t lost on either of them: if Shining isn’t careful, he could put a little foal inside his little sister. The thought only spurs him on, and from the flush of juices draining onto his tongue and the delicious, animal sounds coming from deep inside her throat, it probably turns her on too.

Shining leans back, freeing his muzzle from her rump, and takes a deep, gasping breath. Everything in the room is a little hazy. But wiggling in front of him is that swollen, desperate pussy, drooling like an infant. Sharply in focus.

“No . . . ” she whines, thrusting her butt at him. “Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t . . . Wasn’t gonna.” He grabs her hips again, balancing so he can stand on his hind hooves and press his chest to her back. She’s pressed up against the wall, chest to cold, clammy stone, and her tail flicks to the side, inviting him in. His cock presses up between her thighs, teasing them both.

“Shining,” she pants, looking over her shoulder. Face burnt with blush, all the way to the tips of her ears. “Shining . . . I want you so bad, but this thing on my horn . . . it hurts.”

“I know,” he says. “Please.”

“You’ve gotta take it off.”

He clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head, taking a single step back. “Not supposed to.”

She pushes against him, giving herself just enough room to twist back around, and untwists her hooves so she’s back against the wall and facing him.

He kisses her.

Twilight gasps, her eyes flashing green. “Ah! Ohh . . . oh, it’s been so long. Your love is so tasty, big brother.” Her tongue flicks out and tastes his, hot and wet. Kisses him again, and again.

He can feel her magic swallowing his love, sucking it down like the drain in a bath. She sighs with ecstasy. Powering up.

He breaks the kiss, gasping for breath. Looks at the prisoner masquerading as his sister. Her cheeks are blushing bright red, her tail is flicking, and her smile is downright ravenous.

She stares into his eyes—Celestiadamnit, her eyes are captivating, even green like they are—then tilts to the side, looks below his belly, and smirks. “I knew you were here to fuck me.”

“It’s not you.”

“So it’s your little sister’s body that’s got you so heated?” she teases, breathing into his ear, and then, when he doesn’t answer, “Thought so. Unless it’s the Ambassador’s huge, throbbing—”

Shining shoves her against the wall with a snarl.

She squeals and laughs. “Ha ha! Oh, big brother. So mean. So forceful! Did I make you mad? Do I need to be spanked?”

“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to get himself under control. “Quit stalling.”

“I’m not stalling. I’m waiting on you.” She points her grounded horn at him again. “Or have you forgotten that this takes a little magic?”

He hesitates, catching his breath while he weighs the risks. Even if she overpowers him, she can’t exactly escape. The dungeon is surrounded on all sides by tons of bedrock, and the entrance is guarded by ponies who know how to challenge and recognize Changelings. He’ll get the dressing down of his life for risking her escape, of course, and if Cadance ever finds out she will be pissed with him until probably the next annual summit. And that’s not counting how he’s about to cheat on his wife and fuck his little sister. But she won’t escape. All these thoughts and more flash through his head, just like they do every time he comes down here, looking for her help, her advice, or even just her company—and he ignores them, just like he does every time.

Instead he thinks about his guards, and the disgusting smirks on their faces as they recount with eager clarity just how Ambassador Wing and the other diplomats treated his wife.

She smirks, then slides herself down the wall until she’s sitting again. Eye level with his cock.

Shining can’t exactly levitate the grounding ring while it’s active—it’s not supposed to be easy to remove, of course—so he steps up beside her. Acutely aware of how close she is, of how vulnerable his chest and gut are, standing over her like this, he leans in and bites it instead.

She shuffles beneath him, and he tenses, but she’s just shifting her weight. Her horn stays put. Doesn’t shish kabob the roof of his mouth. He exhales and lifts. As soon as the ring slips free a warmth returns to the room. A rush of magic curls over his little sister’s horn in a flurry of yellow sparks and a haze of green smoke. The room thrums with pressure and potential and feels much less like a dungeon, and Twilight moans, “Oh, Shiny . . . that’s so good. Thank you.”

He hurriedly steps back and hides the ring in his uniform.

Twilight’s magic swirls around her chains, unlocking them with ease. With her forelegs freed, she rolls onto all fours and stretches like a cat—first her forelegs, then her hindlegs, putting a little wiggle in her hips. Shining licks her lips. His sister moves so sexily without even trying. It’s a wonder they held back so long when they were younger.

Heh. It’s a wonder he never pumped her full of foals when they were younger: once she discovered she could control him by teasing him, they still managed to hold back for weeks until that fateful night, and only some obviously delusional regret held them back after.

“Can . . . can you do it?” he asks, gulping. “Cast the spell, or whatever?”

She smiles at him and shakes her head. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“I freed you,” he reminds her.

“No you haven’t. The moment I walk out of this cell I’ll have a dozen guards on me.” She walks past him toward the door anyways, flicking his snout with her tail. “And that wasn’t the deal either.”

He turns to follow her dancing, bouncing rump. “Come back here.”

“Come catch me, big brother,” she teases, licking her lips. “Then I’ll turn you into anypony you want.”

He rears back and lunges, but she hops to the side, giggling. He snarls and lunges again, his hoof scratching at her backside and trailing harmlessly through her tail. Her body in motion is a work of art. Fluid lines flowing through the air. Soft curves and brilliant mane. Like she’s spent the last few days in a spa, not rotting in a cell.

“Not fast enough, big brother!” she giggles.

“Stand still,” Shining growls, chasing her around the cell.

She cocks an eye. “Make me.” She’s teasing him. Flaunting that perfect body, tempting him. She’s his little sister. She’s supposed to do as he says!

He jumps again, and this time his aim is good.

The two tumble back against the wall. Shining props himself up over Twilight. Looking down at her, he can feel lines of sweat dripping down his cheeks. She looks back up at him, eyes unfocused and burning, lips parted slightly. Lungs moving like bellows. Just like that night.

His cock pokes at her stomach.

They both look down between themselves. Mottled white, throbbing, dripping against flushed lavender.

“Turn over,” he whispers, shoving at her hip.

Twilight shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. I wanna watch, big brother. I need to see your love. And I wanna kiss you some more.”

“Twilight!” he gasps, leaning in to kiss her.

Their lips collide again, and instead of suspending himself awkwardly he lowers his body atop hers. He can feel her groin against his stomach, warm and wet, while her thigh presses against his cock and squeezes him, gently.

She stretches her head forward, whispers into his ear, “I’ve waited so long, Shiny. Fuck me. Make me your mare.”

Shining angles his hips, presses the tip of his cock against her pussy, and thrusts, making her his mare. The two cry out. If Shining’s guards are anywhere in the dungeon, they’ll have heard it too.

Doesn’t matter. None of it matters: not his guards, his wife, or Ambassador Wing. All that matters is that he’s whole again.

He pulls back and thrusts. Twilight squeezes his hips with her hindlegs and tries to hold him in place, tries to keep him buried deep inside her, but he’s already thrusting with single-minded intent, and Gods, does she feel good. Only moments in and he’s back in her bed, on that hot winter night. He forgets about the cold, damp floor under his hooves, the open door behind him, the fears that his wife is in way over her head or that he really ought not to be down here.

“Big . . . brother,” she pants. “Fuck me, big brother! Fuck me full of your hot, sticky cum. Feed me. Anytime you want. No games. No tricks. Just come down here . . . and grab me—Don’t even ask, just shove my face into the ground and your cock inside my tight, little sister cunt.”

Something about hearing his little Twily swearing so crudely burns his blood. Like the innocent, virginal, lovely Princess he’s spent his life defending is pulling off a disguise to reveal the whore underneath, the one that’s been there all along. The one he could’ve been fucking all along.

She continues, “Or maybe you could let me—Oh!—stay upstairs in your room—Fuck!—anytime your wife is too busy with guests—guh—you can just find me, and fuck me, and breed me like your little whore!”

“Shut up!” he grunts, as he slaps his hips against hers and shoves her back against the wall.

“We could go right now,” she says. “I bet they’re busy fucking anyways.”

It takes a few moments for him to hear her. “What?”

“Cadance and Crimson.” She smiles up at him, like she’s talking about hearth’s warming gifts. Licks her lips. Sweat pouring down her face. “While you’re down here messing around with your whore prisoner in her cold damp cell, she’s in his VIP suite with the fireplace going—”

“Stop it.”

“Why? You love hearing about it. I can feel it. You freak. It turns you on.”

No it doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear about his wife sleeping with the enemy, and certainly not from Twilight.

“—screaming out his name—”

“Shut up.” She doesn’t know what she’s talking about—she’s still teasing him, just from a different angle. Trying to anger him.

“—while he pumps load after load of his hot, sticky, imitation Dragon cream deep inside her tight Princess pussy.”

Fuck. He can’t help but imagine it. No matter how ridiculous she sounds—Cadance hates Ambassador Wing—and no matter how angry it makes him—sometimes he really wants to hurt this mare—his orgasm looms over him. It’s so sudden he didn’t notice, but his balls are aching and his lungs are burning and he feels everything tighten up. Too soon!

“Can’t—gonna come!”

“Come inside me,” she says. “Come inside your little sister.”

Fuck!

Shining tries to pull back but it’s too late, he can’t pull out now. “Come—coming!” he wheezes, as his cock explodes deep inside her, filling her with liquid love.

She grabs his head and pulls him in for a kiss, sucking his tongue while her pussy swallows every drop he can squeeze out of his cock.

“Big brother!” she cries.

“I love you, Twily,” he groans, squeezing his hips to hers and pressing so hard she’s probably leaving an imprint of her ass in the floor of the cell. He can feel his heart pouring out for her. He can’t help it. “I love you!”

Twilight groans luxuriously, her body quivering as she swallows down his love like a hungry changeling. “Yes . . . ”

His orgasm fades. He humps desperately, trying to chase the high, then slows to a stop.

She looks up at him and licks her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Shining collapses atop her, then rolls to the side, panting. His cock burns with the last remnants of his orgasm, still drooling cum onto his thigh.

This was a mistake.

The cell is quiet for a few moments while they catch their breath. An ache spills over his body, like he’s the one that’s been down here for months, shackled to the wall. Shining glances at Twilight, watches as his cum is absorbed into her body, then looks away.

“Whom do you . . . want to impersonate?” Twilight asks, panting. “So you can . . . infiltrate your wife’s . . . summit and spy on her.”

Shining wipes his lips. “My wife.”

“Ha! You’re . . . joking.” Another point for surprising this one.

“Nope. Joking would be asking you to impersonate her. See the difference?”

Twilight hmphs. “Of all the times to be locked in a dungeon. Do you really think you can imitate Cadance? A nopony, maybe. Somepony unknown and insignificant, so you can get away with something—sure. But our little Cadeybug spends her days surrounded by hundreds of ponies, and she deals with more pressure than you could possibly imagine.”

“How would you know?”

“I was a Princess once, too, remember,” she says quietly.

“Yeah, for days and days. And you impersonated her well enough to fool almost everypony. I can get away with it for a few minutes.” He waves a hoof. “Ponies see what they want to see. They’ll think she was acting odd today, or that she needed some coffee or something. They won’t jump to ‘Princess Cadance was a Changeling infiltrator.’”

Twilight looks around. “I want a better cell. If you’re going to keep coming to me with such frivolous demands, I could at least spend my time in a warm room with a bed.”

Shining rolls his eyes. Of course she wants more. “I already paid you—”

“I’m not actually a whore, big brother.”

“—and I thought Changelings lived in caves.”

“Our hives are warm and well lit, big brother.”

“How about instead I don’t have you thrown into the winterlands?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m desperate, short on time, and scared for my wife. I’ve already crossed a line today. You tell me whether I would dare.”

Twilight bites her lips, considering. She has to know Shining is bluffing. It’s hard enough keeping his guards quiet. He literally cannot do anything for, to, or with her outside of this cell. He couldn’t throw her further than the cell door, no matter how strong his teekay.

Shining hangs his head. “Please,” he whispers.

A hoof touches his cheek. “Aww. There, there. Of course I’ll help you. That’s what family’s for.”

Shining’s hoof ignites in green fire.

“Ah!” Shining yelps. He waves his hoof back and forth, trying to douse the magical flames, but just winds up splashing fire across his body. “Whoa. Whoa! Ow! Uh—I thought this was supposed to feel good. Do—Do you guys go through this every time?”

“Eh, you get used to it. Many of us start to like it. It does feel good. The pain means tasty, tasty love is nearby.” She groans, a particularly fake, lusty groan. “Oh, it hurts so good, big—”

“Argh!”

Twilight’s magic wraps him tight, constricts his body. Like he’s sinking. He tries not to panic. Takes a deep breath, then another, then he has to clench his jaw to keep from crying out. Limbs ache. It itches. It burns!

“Stop. Stop! Please! Argh! I’m sorry, I don’t want this—”

Then it’s done. The green fire retreats, leaving a faint smell of burnt mane in the air and only the vague memory of agony.

Shining falls onto his front and gasps for breath.

Twilight crouches before him. “Are you still with me?” She waves her hoof in front of his face.

He nods, and slowly pushes himself to his hooves. He looks around, getting his bearings. He feels taller. “How do I know if—”

Cadance gasps, and covers her mouth in alarm.

Twilight smiles.

The voice is certainly correct. Tentatively, Cadance pokes at her face, then slides her hoof down her throat and across her chest. She looks over her shoulder and ruffles her wings—a whole bundle of weird sensations there, and she doesn’t fancy trying to fly with them just yet—then flicks her tail and shakes her legs, getting a feel for her weight.

“How do I—” Ce-les-tia, the voice is distracting. Like another pony is speaking right when Shining ought to be speaking too. She shakes her head and powers through the vocal dissonance. “How—do I—look?”

Twilight shrugs. “Honestly, it’s a little hard to tell in this light. I think I got it right; this is hardly my first time with my big sister’s body. But you’re about to find out,” she says, nodding at the open door.

Purposeful hoofsteps march down the hall and approach the door.

Cadance realizes she hasn’t really thought this through. “Uh—”

Twilight sits back with a grin. She’s not even trying to escape: she seems rather content to watch whatever’s about to happen. “I thought you wanted to impersonate your wife, big brother.”

“What do I do?” Cadance hisses. She can barely talk or stand, much less impersonate somepony.

“Uh, be a Princess?” Twilight says, rolling her eyes.

Right. Princess. Authority. In control. Cadance nods, then turns and steps outside, taking the initiative.

“Guards!” she calls out. “I’m—”

“Halt!” Dilettante hollers, as the two rush up in front of her and jab their spears way into her personal space. “Where’s the Prince?”

Cadance sits back and holds up her hooves. “I’m Prince Armor. I believe the prisoner managed to cast a disguise spell on me. I expect it will revert shortly.”

Crew’s eyes narrow. “We’ll need a challenge.”

“Yes, of course.” Despite the minor irritation, she’s proud—and relieved—that her Guards still follow the protocols in an unusual situation. If a Changeling can cast disguises on other ponies, then there’s no way to tell who’s actually in the cell. Cadance ignores the business end of his pointy stick and says, “Go ahead. Shining Armor’s prompts, please.”

Dilettante prompts and Cadance replies.

“Confirmed,” Dilettante says, though he still looks suspicious. It’s understandable. Shining is missing, as is the prisoner; there’s an innocent young mare down here for some reason; apparently Changelings are more dangerous than he thought; and Cadance—the real Cadance—should not be down here. She shouldn’t even know this place exists.

“Thank you. The prisoner is still inside, under her own disguise. Do not be alarmed. Remember, a Changeling’s magic is always green.” She ignites her own horn and passes the grounding ring in a bright pink glow.

Crew grabs the ring and pushes past Cadance. The corridor isn’t exactly narrow, but he still presses very close against her before he makes his way into the cell. He tries to intimidate Twilight back into her shackles, but it looks to Cadance like Twilight would rather tease him than try to escape.

“Did you know they could do that?” Cadance asks, making sure that Twilight is well secured before turning back to Dilettante. “Disguise others?”

Dilettante is busy ogling Cadance’s new body. “No, ma’am. Uh, sir. Is that new?”

“Eyes up here, Guard,” Cadance says with a sigh. Dilettante isn’t the first pony to eye bang her wife, and won’t be the last, but she’s never herself been on the receiving end of it. Cadance—the real Cadance—must get tired of it. “No, it’s not new. Be thankful you’ve never had to face a Changeling Infiltrator.”

Twilight calls out, “Are you sure you have to go, big brother? I really would like somepony to talk to. And I think you do too.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cadance turns to leave, then looks over her shoulder. She can barely make out Twilight’s tiny, beaten silhouette in the darkness. It looks like Crew is locking her up again. “Did you really meet Mother Nightingale?”

Twilight smiles a grin full of sharp, glimmering teeth. “Big brother—I was Mother Nightingale.”

Cadance shakes her head and hurries out of the dungeon, hoping against hope that she can get to Wing before her wife does.

Author's Note

Evil Ambassadors? Shining, Cadance, and Twilight? Implications of fooling around? Surely ya boy is cleverer enough to come up with new stories by now. Right?

:facehoof:

The next chapter will be posted when I finish it. If you want me motivated to post sooner than later, comments and favorites help me charge up my J-O crystals, giving me the power I need to reach the finish line.

Part Two

Cadance slips out of the nondescript and unassuming door that leads down to the dungeons. This particular hallway is empty, but she can hear voices just ahead. The castle is crowded today, at the beginning of the summit, and opening ceremonies are starting soon. Thankfully her wife, the real Cadance, is supposed to be on the other side of the castle right now, but many ponies have actual business with the real Cadance, and Chrysalis is right—she’s a terrible liar. She’ll need to be careful.

She presses out into the crowd.

Immediately she’s assaulted by the sheer presence of all these ponies and creatures. The palace is packed. Nearly every single pony that comes near her pauses for a moment, glancing at her once or twice. Most bow, or nod their heads. Some look away. Still others stare unabashedly, and not just at her eyes.

“Your Highness.”

“Princess Cadance.”

“Sweet Princess.”

“My Lady.”

The touches startle her. A pony strokes his feathers across hers, a slight whisper of a touch. He’s gone in the crowd before she can tell who did it. While she’s looking, another pony actually reaches out and pokes her shoulder, while a third sniffs at her mane. Cadance watches in growing disbelief as an elderly mare approaches her with a nervous smile, nuzzles her neck, then floats away with a sigh and a smile.

Does her wife put up with this every day? Cadance isn’t sure she can put up with this for five minutes.

Cadance holds up a hoof, and waves toward herself. A page immediately steps forward from out of nowhere and bows. “Your Highness.”

“Where is Ambassador Wing?”

The colt turns and points. While Cadance is being jostled around by ponies getting just a little too familiar with her, he’s stable like a rock. “He just left his quarters, Your Highness.”

“Is he scheduled for any meetings before the opening ceremonies?”

The page thinks for a second. “No, Your Highness. Except of course for your own meeting.”

The real Cadance already has a meeting with the Ambassador before the summit starts? Cadance squeezes her lips. An early, private meeting between her wife and the Ambassador is the perfect opportunity for him to hurt her wife again. But she can’t just cancel it, because it’s also the perfect opportunity for Cadance to say her bit. She just has to keep the real Cadance away.

“Where is my meeting taking place?”

“In the east gallery.”

“Move it to the west garden, in a few minutes.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The page hurries off.

That ought to give Cadance some breathing room. Whatever Ambassador Wing and the real Cadance were going to discuss will have to wait until after the opening ceremonies. All she has to do now is get him on his own without the real Cadance finding out, put the fear of royalty into him, and then get out of the way—all without ruining their chances to negotiate for more geodes or alerting the real Cadance to her machinations or revealing her disguise. Easy.

She turns towards the west garden.

“Your Highness,” a pony says. “Your Highness!”

Cadance turns to look. Some noblepony that Cadance doesn’t recognize, a Unicorn that barely bows before starting, “There has been some sort of mistake. Sir Filigree’s delegation,” he sneers, “that miserable band of upstart bandits from the eastern tributes, has been settled in the 3rd floor guest suites while our group . . . ”

A hoof lands on her rump.

Cadance whirls around, trying to spot the hoofer, but the pony’s gone into the crowd before she even finishes turning.

“Your Highness?”

“Uh, talk to my assistant, Goldenrod. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” Cadance says absently.

“Yes, well, your assistant is very helpful, I’m sure, but . . . ”

The hoof returns, this time from the other side. Cadance startles, but forces herself to stay still, wary of losing this overly familiar pony whose hoof is currently exploring her haunch. Does this noble nopony see what’s going on? He’s having trouble keeping eye contact, but that may be due to her status. He doesn’t seem to notice anything happening behind her. Does anypony notice besides her?

“—and every time I bring it up he only tells me there’s nothing he can do. This happened last year, too, your Highness, and if—”

The hoof squeezes her rump.

Cadance gasps, ignites her horn, and grabs the hoof in her teekay. The pony squeaks as Cadance drags them around in front of her. It’s a young mare, hoof outstretched and eyes wide.

Eyes that swivel upwards, up above Cadance’s forehead.

Her teekay. Her pink teekay!

She nulls her horn before anypony else can notice that her magic isn’t colored correctly, and the mare stumbles back, scrambling into the crowd before Cadance can collect herself. Within moments Cadance has no idea where the mystery mare has gone. She can’t go running after her, not with the crush of the crowd.

“Your Highness?” the noblepony asks, still waiting expectantly for something.

Urgh. She doesn’t have time for this.

“Goldenrod is exceptionally resourceful. If he’s unable to accommodate you then there’s certainly nothing I can do,” Cadance snaps, glaring at him. When the noblepony opens his mouth to object she speaks over him: “I’m busy all day with matters of state and I don’t really have time to sort out your sleeping arrangements.”

“But—”

She steps close, looming over him by at least a head. “Get out of my face before I have you tossed out.”

The noblepony finally seems to realize just what danger he’s in, and hurriedly bows and sneaks off, tail between his legs.

Cadance sighs. She’ll have to remember not to use her magic while around other ponies until she changes back.

“Mom!” a voice calls out.

Cadance freezes. Oh, no. She thought she’d have a little more time to get into character, but she’s about to be tested by somepony who knows the real Cadance intimately. For a moment she wonders if she should try to lose her daughter in the crowd.

She plasters a smile on her face and turns to face her daughter, Flurry Heart, just as she squeezes between two ponies.

“Mom,” Flurry says again, looking shaken.

“Flurry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just fine, mom,” she says through gritted teeth and a smile that also looks plastered into place. Are ponies accosting her as well?

“You don’t look—”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Uh—”

But Flurry’s yellow magic wraps around Cadance’s wing and yanks her to the side—

“Ow! Careful, dear!”

“Shh!” Flurry hisses.

—knocking over a trail of ponies in their wake—

“Where—Ow!—where are we going?”

“Hold on!”

—and leading her down the hall, away from the pressure and noise of the other castlegoers.

“What’s wrong?” Cadance asks, stumbling to keep her balance.

“Everypony’s so touchy-feely today. I need you,” Flurry hisses, looking over her shoulder to make sure they’re good and alone.

Cadance glances at a nearby clock. Talking with her prisoner took longer than she’d expected, and her plan is fragile enough as it is. “How about later tonight? I would love to spend time with you, but I’m busy right now. Or why not ask your father?”

Flurry releases Cadance’s wing and waves a hoof. “Yeah—no, thanks. I already know what his answer would be. I need you.”

“Flurry . . . ” Cadance sighs.

Being a father is rewarding, but tough. Once upon a time, Shining’s little darling was adorable, playful, and cheery. She needed him. She appreciated him. And she was so easy to please. But she’s just started her descent into the deep dark abyss of adolescence and there’s nothing a father can do but try to hold on. He knows she loves him, that this is all temporary, that he’s being a good father. But everyday she pulls just a little farther away, and hearing her disdain for Shining while she admits she needs her mom is like a kick to the shin.

“What’s up?”

“Okay. So, like, I know it’s been, like, a day since I asked you last time, but can we—can you, you know . . . use your magic?”

“Use my magic? What for?”

Flurry steps back, looking surprised. Uh oh. Cadance is missing something important here.

“You know . . . ” Flurry rubs her foreleg with her other hoof and looks at the floor. Mumbles something.

“Flurry?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Flurry says, glancing around. They’re alone in the hallway for now, but still—

“Dear, I can’t help you if you won’t be upfront with me.”

“Gah! Mom!” Flurry exclaims, stomping her hoof against the stone floor. “I’m horny!”

On instinct, Cadance sniffs deep. Ah. Yes. There it is. And now that she’s looking for them, she can see the signs. Wings flicking. Shallow breaths. Flush. Skittish steps and shifting hips and bobbing tail.

Well, she is going through puberty.

Flurry sees Cadance’s nostrils flare and cringes. “Mom!” she hisses, her blush deepening. She ducks her face behind a wing.

“Sorry!” Cadance says, backing up. “Sorry. It’s just—”

“I know I smell!” Flurry yells. “Everypony knows I smell!” She looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “It’s not like I can control it!”

“Oh, Flurry.”

She bursts into tears.

Cadance’s chest tightens, hearing her daughter in such anguish. “I know, dear. It’s okay.” Carefully, Cadance wraps a foreleg around her daughter and hugs her close.

“I’m sorry,” Flurry moans into Cadance’s chest. “I’m messing up your big summit. All those guests—I should’ve just locked myself in my room.”

“Oh, Flurry, no,” Cadance coos, rubbing Flurry’s mane. “No. You haven’t done anything wrong. All those ponies go through the same thing. They’re just too polite to say anything.” Cadance rubs Flurry’s back. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Wuh—what?”

“They also all burp and fart and puke and pee and poop and—”

“Ew! Mom!”

Teenagers are so sensitive.

Flurry sniffles into her mom’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I hate being this weak. I just can’t help it!”

“It’s not your fault. Your mo—” Cadance pauses. “Your father and I always wondered if you would inherit any of my . . . love magic. You’re the very first daughter of a Princess. We’re going to have to figure out a lot together.”

Flurry grumbles something that sounds like stupid love magic.

She has no idea.

“Flurry? Have you tried . . . taking care of it?”

Flurry nods, pressing her forehead to Cadance’s shoulder. “Of course I tried. I tried all morning. I was good yesterday, but there’s all these ponies around, and a bunch of them are getting really hoofsy, like usual, and . . . Um. Like, there’s this Pegasus stallion with all this jewelry . . . I think he’s one of the guests. He was nice to me—and he didn’t do anything!—but, like . . . oh, mom,” she whispers, “I just keep picturing him doing all these things to me. Really awful things. Is that . . . normal?”

Ambassador Crimson Wing. Dragonlord Ember’s gift to little fillies everywhere, apparently. Cadance grinds her jaw, but forces a pleasant, reassuring smile onto her face. “I think that’s pretty normal for a filly your age. So long as a pony his age doesn’t do anything to you.”

Flurry nods, looking somewhere in the middle distance. It looks like she’s picturing him again.

Cadance clears her throat. “I know it’s tough. It was tough for me, too,” she says. At least, she assumes it was tough for the real Cadance when she was a filly. “It’s tough for all fillies your age. The ones who say otherwise are lying.”

“It’s not fair!” Flurry growls.

“I know. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“Yes! Oh, thank Celestia. Thank you,” Flurry exclaims, hugging her mother so hard she wonders if she’ll pop.

“You’re—welcome!”

Flurry lets her down then stares at her expectantly. “So. . .”

Cadance coughs. “So?”

“So?” Flurry echoes. “So—help me!”

“Help you how?”

“I told you, I’m horny!”

“Yes, and—”

“Urgh! What’s wrong with you?!” Flurry snaps.

She’s been going through puberty for a year or so, but her mood swings still surprise Cadance. “Flurry—”

“Fine! I get it. You’re too busy. You know what? I’ll just find somepony else!” Flurry whirls around and raises her hoof to summon a page.

“Flurry!” Cadance grabs her shoulder and holds her still. “Flurry, please. Just listen.”

Flurry pulls away in a huff. “Well?”

“Flurry, this summit is exhausting. I’m a little frazzled. I’m not trying to be unhelpful. I wasn’t exactly expecting this now and, well—I’m not sure I have time. But I’ll do what I can. Okay?”

The tension slumps from Flurry’s shoulders. She looks down and drags her hoof across the floor. “I’m sorry,” she mutters.

“It’s okay, dear,” Cadance soothes, putting a hoof on Flurry’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Flurry smiles, and nuzzles Cadance’s hoof. “I love you too.”

It’s been a while since Cadance has heard those words in that voice directed at her. Flurry rarely chats with her dad anymore. It’s bittersweet. She lets Flurry nuzzle her for a few more moments, savoring a long lost feeling—has the Changeling magic made her hungry for love magic, or is she just a lonely father?—then says, “Also, dear, you should spend time with your dad more often. He misses you.”

Flurry scowls. “Yeah, I know. Fine. Now can you help me?”

“Of course, dear. What would you like?”

“Fuck me—”

“Flurry!” Cadance says. “Watch your mouth!”

Flurry steps back. “Uh, what? The eff-word? Since when do you care?”

“Well—” Shoot. Does the real Cadance normally let Flurry swear like this? She’s going to have to ask her later on. “I understand that you’re uncomfortable, but you’re still a Princess and there are guests everywhere.”

“But nopony—”

“Behave.”

“Urgh. Fine!” Flurry scowls, her face pinching in anger. “You sound like dad,” she grumbles.

“Good. Your father is a wonderful pony. And he cares a lot about you.”

“Whatever. It’s his fault it’s like this.”

Cadance perks up. What did Shining do to put her in this state? She’d ask, but Cadance probably ought to know already, so she skips the question and says, “Now. Try again. How can I help you?”

Flurry steps up close, puts her mouth to Cadance’s ear, and whispers, “I want you. To fuck. Me.”

Cadance gasps. Flurry wasn’t just swearing. Flurry really is asking her mother—well, her father, but she doesn’t know that—to take care of her arousal personally.

Flurry touches her hoof to Cadance’s chest and rubs gently. “I know you’re busy,” she murmurs, with a sensuality reserved for the most experienced courtesans, a breathy purr right in her ear. “It won’t take long. It’s—it’s really bad. I feel like any moment I’m gonna explode, but nothing I do works. I need you, mom.”

Cadance is so shocked that she doesn’t notice Flurry kissing her ear for a whole two seconds. “Flurry!” Cadance gasps, jerking to the side. “I can’t do that!”

Flurry tilts her head. “What? Because of the summit? Nopony will know. We can go to my bedroom—dad never goes there. C’mon. You said you would!”

“But—I thought you needed to talk! Or that you needed me to find you a cooler, or—”

Flurry rears back and wraps her forelegs around Cadance’s neck.

“Please, mom. Why do you always insist on using a cooler? I need you.”

Before Cadance can blink her teenaged daughter is kissing her on the lips.

And if she’s following the conversation correctly, it isn’t the first time, either.

Flurry breaks the quick kiss and licks Cadance’s cheek. If she’s disappointed that Cadance doesn’t kiss back, she doesn’t mention it. “Please, mom. All these ponies are making it really hard to concentrate. I know I’m supposed to be good for all the guests but some of them are just so cute. Especially some of the castle staff. Those pages are yum.”

“You—You can’t go messing around with the staff!”

“Well, who else would I go to? One of my teachers? The sexy red Pegasus?”

Cadance bristles. “Flurry Heart! I don’t care how sexy you think he is, or how well he sweet talks you. Don’t you dare go anywhere or do anything with Crimson Wing. Or any of the guests.” She licks her lips. “Or with anypony, really.”

“Then should I just go talk to daddy?” Flurry whispers.

A heat floods Cadance, from her stomach outward, almost overpowering what little restraint she has. Her little girl, coming to her in the middle of the night, desperately horny and aching for relief.

“What . . . what do you want me to do?” She means it like a defense. A whine, really.

“Me,” Flurry whispers, with a little half smile.

“No, I mean—”

Flurry’s eyes narrow. “You want me to say it? Fine. I want your head between my thighs and your lips on my cunt. I want you to bite my wings and suck my horn.” Her face fills Cadance’s view. “I want you to choke my neck while I cum all over the bed.” She presses her nose against Cadance’s. “And I don’t want you to stop until I pass out. Is that clear enough?”

Clear enough that she has no trouble imagining all of it.

“Crystal. Just—” Cadance looks around, trying to figure out what to do next. The hallway won’t stay empty forever—at the very least they should be in private. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

She pulls Flurry towards a rather boring tapestry and pulls it aside to reveal—

“A secret door?!” Flurry gasps, as Cadance works the mechanism. “A secret passage?!”

“Shh!” Cadance hisses, glancing over her shoulder again. She doesn’t want too many ponies finding out about these.

“Why didn’t you tell me—”

Cadance yanks her inside. “Close the door!”

She also doesn’t want too many ponies seeing her pull her panting, smelly, desperately horny daughter into a secret door in order to fuck her—

To talk to her. She’s just going to talk to her.

The passage is narrow and dark. Cadance leads Flurry around tight corners, up a steep staircase, and down a long corridor. It’s enough to confuse even seasoned explorers, and for a few minutes they’re both too busy navigating the passage to say anything.

Then—

“I think it’s all these ponies,” Flurry says, eventually, from right behind her.

“What is, dear?” Cadance says, stopped at a cross trying to remember which way leads forward.

“Why I’m so horny all the time. Don’t you get the same way when they try to nuzzle you and whatever? It’s fine when it’s a quick thing, now and then, but during these things there’s just so many new ponies yanking and touching and petting me.”

The passageway is too narrow for Cadance to whirl around, but she tries anyway. “Are ponies—Ow!—Are ponies touching you?!”

Flurry shrugs. “Uh, yeah. Like they always do. Normally it’s nice—I spent, like, five minutes cuddling a few colts who were on a fieldtrip, and I made new friends with the head chef after he asked if he could stroke my wings a little. And I know which of the staff are discreet and willing to sneak away somewhere private for a while to fool around or whatever. But now there’s hundreds of ponies who all want to talk to me or touch me or kiss me or sniff my neck or lick between my legs or whatever, and it’s really distracting. I don’t know how you deal with it, mom, with all those gorgeous dignitaries pomping around. And they’re so pushy! At least the staff have the decency to try and have a conversation with me while they’re groping me, you know? These ponies don’t even bother saying hello, they just get all up in my business. Urgh. Old stallion? Licks my face. Some grandma? Slides her hoof down my belly, and tells me I’ll look great when I’m having a foal. Secretary? Tries to lead me back to her boss’s suite. Reporter? Asks if I can join his coworkers and pose for some private photos back at their studio. It’s probably a sleazy motel outside of town. Pig. At least he was hot. Some pipsqueak colt actually headbutted my chest. Headbutted. My. Chest. Who does that? And this morning this total stranger popped up out of nowhere and asked me if I’d like to suck his cock earlier while I was busy telling another pony not to pull my tail. I know, right? Like, hello! I’m busy here. Sure I’ll do it but can’t you see there’s a line?!” Flurry laughs. “Right, mom?”

“R—right,” Cadance mutters.

There’s no way Flurry will take no for an answer now. Cadance bites her lip and hurries forward, picking a direction at random. It doesn’t matter where they end up—she’s equal parts appalled and turned on, and she has to get out of this narrow corridor and stop flagging her tail in front of her daughter like a bitch in heat.

“Mom, wait up!”

Cadance shoves open the next door she finds and almost falls out of the passage, landing in the hallway outside of their living quarters. At least they’re alone, mostly. Cadance avoids eye contact with the Guards she passes, sure that they too can smell her current condition—or Flurry’s for that matter. She tries to walk normally, to avoid suspicion. Flurry gallops down the hall, sizzles open her bedroom, and yanks Cadance in behind her.

“Finally!”

“Okay. Now tell me who was . . . ”

Flurry leaps atop the bed, and falls onto her back without hesitation. Cadance stands at the foot, watching her daughter’s legs flop wide open, exposing her privates, and—wow. Cadance can’t help but stare.

“ . . . who was touching you . . . and I’ll have them . . . ”

“Mom?” Flurry asks, all breathy. She bites her lip. “What’s . . . what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, dear,” Cadance lies. “Just—I . . . I forgot how beautiful you were.”

Flurry inhales, then flips her head to the side and hides behind her wings. “Mom!”

“What? It’s true!”

It really is. Her daughter is beautiful. One day she’ll be the exemplar of sexuality for fillies and mares around Equestria, just like her mother. Her body is already beginning to fill out: soft curves and lines and shapes that make Cadance’s knees weak and her face flush. Cadance and Shining have done their best to help her grow mentally and spiritually, but Flurry managed to grow physically just fine on her own.

Somehow, when they weren’t watching, their little filly started blooming into a mare. Little wonder everypony wants a piece of her.

“But—those ponies—”

“I like it,” she says with a shrug. “It just usually isn’t so intense.”

“You do? It isn’t?”

“I can handle them. But not if you don’t help me!”

Cadance’s heart races. Whatever pulls ponies towards Flurry is working on Cadance, too.

“A mom . . . doesn’t normally help her daughter with her arousal, right?” she asks.

Flurry smiles. “That’s why you’re better than the other moms. And you said you’d rather I come to you instead of fucking the staff or the Guards or my teachers or the guests, right?”

Oh, sweet Celestia. Her wife and her daughter really do this, right?

Flurry really does expect Cadance to fuck her.

Cadance steps a shaky hoof atop the bed.

Flurry takes a sharp breath. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you—”

“Shh,” Cadance says, crawling up beside her and brushing her hoof through Flurry’s mane. “Relax.”

“Okay. Just . . . could you kiss me? First?”

Cadance nods. This, at least, she knows how to do. Easy. Just a kiss, right?

She tilts her head down, watching Flurry lift her face, and—

Sweet Celestia. For a young filly who shouldn’t even be dating yet, Flurry already knows how to kiss. Flurry’s tongue touches Cadance’s lips, pokes between them, and presses against her teeth. A hoof reaches behind her head, pulling her close and sliding down her neck. In the corner of her vision, Cadance sees Flurry’s other hoof gripping the bed tightly.

And the smell . . . Flurry’s heat is very noticeable, advertising her arousal. Every breath reminds Cadance of her own wife’s smell, evoking very pleasant memories. It’s not hard to see Flurry growing into a clone of the real Cadance. The sounds are the same, too: muffled whimpers, lips smacking, even the little whuffle they both make. Flurry grips her mom’s hip and pulls, guiding Cadance until she’s cuddling close to her daughter.

Cadance closes her eyes and explores with a hoof.

Flurry’s coat is soft and very slightly electric. Her chin, smooth and sharp at the same time. Her neck, pulsing with blood. Her chest, her breast bone, her armpit, her ribs. Ticklish: Flurry snorts into Cadance’s mouth.

Cadance pulls back, finds herself out of breath.

Flurry looks up at her, tongue lolling out, her eyes dazed. “Mom . . . ”

“How is that?” Cadance asks, gulping.

“More, please.”

Cadance slips her hoof down Flurry’s stomach.

Flurry clenches her eyes shut and buries her face in Cadance’s chest fluff, her breath warming Cadance’s chest. “Careful,” she mumbles.

Cadance can’t help but think of Twilight. It’s not Flurry’s first time, obviously, but there’s still a nervous filly barely hidden beneath the bluster and pride of a young mare trying to escape the shadow of her heritage. Twilight too was in command until it actually came time to follow through, at which point Shining had to help her to marehood.

“Please, don’t stop,” Twilight pants.

“Wasn’t gonna,” Shining breathes.

Cadance kisses Flurry’s mane. Her hoof, rubbing circles across Flurry’s stomach, slips down between her legs, pressing against her abdomen, her groin—.

Flurry squeals and clamps her legs shut, trapping Cadance’s hoof.

Cadance smiles. “Relax, dear.” She gently presses her other hoof between Flurry’s knees, separating them again. Like a switch is flipped, Flurry’s legs flop open again, and Cadance is there, looking at it. Flurry’s filly pussy. Flushed, slick, slightly open. Ready for a real cock, and Cadance finds herself desperately wishing she still had one at the moment. She slides her hoof down and starts rubbing her thighs.

Flurry tenses, her thighs clenching and her tail thrashing beneath them. “Mom!”

“Shh.”

Flurry whimpers as Cadance keeps rubbing. Her pussy really is perfect. Smooth, round, full, curving from her groin down and out of sight beneath her dock—Cadance slips her hoof down, poking beneath Flurry’s tail, teasing her butthole.

“Mom!” Flurry shrieks, clenching tight.

“Too much?” Cadance says with a smile.

“Uh-huh!” she exclaims.

Cadance laughs. “So, maybe we’ll just leave choking your neck until you pass out for another day, hmm?”

“Oh, Princess!” Flurry gasps, hiding behind a wing. “I can’t believe I said all that!”

Cadance presses against Flurry’s pussy, slicking her hoof. “How about this?”

“Good. Please. Don’t stop.”

Oh . . . Twilight and Flurry would’ve had to cram together on Twilight’s childhood bed. Long, svelte legs tangled. Nubile, sweaty bodies pressed tight. Tails twinned, atop blankets strewn over the edge. Both of them staring up at her, panting, whimpering. Old enough to beg, “Just fuck us already!” but still young enough to whisper, “Be careful,” immediately afterwards.

Flurry gasps and thrusts her hips up off the bed, pressing into Cadance’s hoof.

“Easy, dear,” Cadance soothes.

“Mmm!”

She’s close. Flurry’s probably been thinking about this all morning. She was certainly hot to trot when she found Cadance. And even though Cadance came only a short while ago, she’s not too surprised to find that she’s breathing harder, tingling with arousal as well. Whatever effect her love magic has on others is clearly manifesting in Flurry as well: Cadance can’t stop herself from leaning down and kissing her again, holding her with her free hoof, and rubbing harder with her busy hoof. She slides her hoof barely between Flurry’s lips, spreading them apart. Her hoof is slick with Flurry’s juices—Flurry’s groin, her inner thighs, and even the base of her tail are sticky too. Another kiss. Flurry barely kisses back, just groans into her mother’s mouth. Gripping the sheets.

“Mmm. Mmm! Mom!”

“Breathe, baby. Let it happen.”

“Kiss me!”

Cadance leans close, but Flurry shoves at her chest.

“Not—I mean, down there . . . ”

Cadance freezes. Go down on her daughter? But—

Flurry whines. “Mom! Please!”

Cadance licks her lips. She’s already gone this far, already committed to making her daughter come. She’s already crossed so many lines today, and this wouldn’t be the last. And it’s not like the real Cadance hasn’t done this for Flurry before, right?

She takes a deep breath, inhaling through her nose. Smelling her daughter.

Besides—she really, really wants to. Her daughter is gorgeous, she thinks, as she finds herself scooting down the bed. Tracing lines and curves from her neck, down her chest, across her belly, to her groin, the swell between her thighs.

Her crotch.

Cadance barely has time to gaze upon it before she feels hooves on her forehead, shoving her close.

“Mo-o-om! Please!” Flurry whines.

Cadance smiles. Just like her own wife. “I don’t know, dear. It might be too much for you,” she teases. “Maybe we should just take it slow—”

“Mom if you don’t shove something inside me right now I swear to Celestia I’ll go out and fuck every single guest in this whole fucking castle! I will come back dripping in cum and full of foals and ready to move to Canterlot or Cloudsdale or the fucking Dragonlands or—”

“Flurry!”

Flurry gasps. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything. Just, please—”

“Dear, maybe we—”

Flurry wraps her hindlegs behind Cadance’s neck, squeezing Cadance’s head between her thighs, and smothers Cadance’s face with her crotch. Cadance’s nose shoves right between Flurry’s pussy lips. If Cadance thought she smelled strongly before, now each breath is infused with the scent of horny filly. Cadance whimpers. Too much. It’s bad enough she has to deal with total strangers getting overly familiar with her. Now she’s hovering over a beautiful, innocent young filly she’s sworn to protect with her life, and all she wants to do is fuck her, over and over, until they both pass out. If she still had her cock it’d be swollen and angry, on a hair’s trigger, desperate to claim this filly and fill her full of potent, virile semen—

“Fuck me, big brother,” Twilight pleads.

Cadance opens her lips and kisses Flurry’s cunt.

Flurry throws her head back against the bed with a whoosh. “Oh thank you thank you thank you—”

Cadance licks her tongue up and down Flurry’s slit, slurping up the flow of juices and spreading them all over her crotch. She tastes just like her mother does, makes the same desperate panting noises her mother does. Cadance grabs her daughter’s rump in her hooves and holds her tight and tries licking her the way she licks the real Cadance: flat, long licks across her vulva and short hard pokes between her lips with plenty of saliva.

Flurry moans, arching her back and fluttering her wings. Cadance can see just up and over the swell of her stomach. If she didn’t know better she’d swear her daughter was in agony, unable to decide between biting her hoof, gripping the bed, or holding her mom in place.

She’s close. Cadance stops licking around her crotch and presses her tongue between Flurry’s lips, reaching as deep as she can with her mouth open as wide as it’ll go.

“Mom!” Flurry cries out. Her thighs lock around Cadance’s head, her hooves tightening their grip, holding her in place. She lifts her hips off the bed, pressing into Cadance’s face. A tiny squeak is all Cadance hears as her daughter comes, squirting juices into Cadance’s mouth and onto her tongue. “Mom!”

Flurry slumps back.

Cadance carefully pulls herself back and looks down at her daughter. She’s seen Flurry dirty and messy before—she and her wife changed Flurry’s diapers, all those years ago—but normally Flurry is primped and pampered, pretty and tidy like a budding Princess. This is a rare sight that Cadance will remember until she dies: Flurry drenched in sweat, flushed, coat matted and mane tangled, feathers torn. Legs flopped open wide. Pussy spread open wide, bubbling saliva and her own juices.

“Dear?” Cadance asks, quietly. “Are you okay?”

Flurry nods, eyes clenched shut. Wordlessly she opens her forelegs, asking for a hug, and when Cadance happily does so Flurry presses herself close and squirms against Cadance, panting and smiling and humming like she’s won a race. It’s alarming how much she looks like her mom. Cadance—the real Cadance—is just as soft, just as warm, and just as prone to excessive cuddling in the middle of an energetic bout of making love.

Right now, if Cadance were in her real body, she would be stepping both hooves on either side of her wife’s rolling shoulders, nipping her in the neck, and sinking a throbbing cock inside her.

“I love you,” Cadance says, with a conviction that is almost startling.

“I love you too, mom,” Flurry breathes.

Cadance’s mood dims a little, hearing those words. It’s been a long while since Flurry said so to her dad without sounding just a little disingenuous. Then again, Flurry’s never been brought to a screeching orgasm by her father, so . . .

“Do you feel better?”

“So much better. Thank you thank you thank you!”

“I need to get ready, dear. Are you okay on your own for a while?”

Flurry nods, slumping back into the bed and making happy teenaged daughter noises. “This oughta hold me off for a while. I’ll probably need you again before bed. Until then . . . I think I’ll take a nap.”

Heh. If it were Shining about to leave Cadance, Cadance wouldn’t let him leave so easily.

“I’ll . . . I’ll tell your father to be a little nicer, okay? Sometimes he forgets that you’re not his son.”

Flurry waves a hoof. “It’s fine. Good luck. And be careful.”

Cadance pauses. “Be careful? I’m perfectly safe here. The worst that can happen is—”

“The other guests,” Flurry mutters. “Some of them really don’t like you. That red Pegasus—what was his name?”

“Ambassador Crimson Wing. He’s from—”

“The Dragonlands, yeah. Right. Him.” Flurry lifts her head, still panting, and looks at Cadance. “He’s nice, but he creeps me out. So just—be careful.”

Cadance smiles. She already knows Wing is not to be trusted. “It’s alright. I’ve got your father to look out for me.” She smirks. “It’s Wing who’d better look out for me.”

Flurry giggles. “Thanks, mom.”

Author's Note

If you thought pronouns were a challenge with regular lesbian horse fucking, how about when one or more of them is secretly a dude?

:facehoof:

Whomst do you think will get up all in Cadance’s business next? Leave a comment with your guess.

Part Three

Cadance steps outside and closes the door behind herself. Guarded by Shining’s best, the family wing is quiet and private, giving her a moment to settle her racing heart. She stares at the floor, mind racing but getting nowhere. It feels like her whole world has been turned upside-down in a matter of minutes.

Her wife’s natural magic encourages regular, polite, boring ponies to abandon all reason and politeness and personal space to start feeling her up, at least until they get used to it.

Their daughter has inherited that same magic, that same aura—and those same consequences.

That same daughter enjoys the attention, and is regularly cuddling with, making out with, and possibly even sleeping with strangers without any concern for the consequences.

Her wife takes care of their daughter’s intimate needs when they threaten to overwhelm her.

“Oh, hey, dear,” Cadance mutters, slipping into the nearest secret doorway. “Just thought you should know I’ve been going down on our daughter when she gets horny from all the strangers groping her.”

Worst of all—neither of them saw fit to tell her about any of this!

Fuck Wing for making her go through this.

The passageway will let her skip most of the crowded route to the west garden, where she’s scheduled to meet with Ambassador Wing, but not the whole route. Soon she’s standing in front of the tiny half-door that opens behind a tapestry into a lobby listening to the crowd. Was it this busy last year, too? Maybe she just didn’t realize it. Cadance, in her original Shining Armor body, never had to deal with molesters.

Heh. Too bad, she muses, thinking back to her wife’s game nights.

Still. She’s got this. Magical grope-me aura or not, while she’s in this form Cadance commands the authority of the Crown. Some ponies are momentarily robbed of their reason while they’re around her, but for the most part she’s respected, worshipped, and obeyed. She’s the Princess!

. . . who just happens to get groped regularly.

She steps out from behind the tapestry and into the lobby. Her destination is down this hallway. A tail flicks her in the face, but she ignores it. She hears several ponies calling out to her with lewd requests, and she tries to ignore them too. She can feel the weight of the ponies pressing in, like the hall is getting smaller and the crowd is crushing around her, as she hurries off towards the garden. Which of these ponies is going to molest her next? The teacher from a school she and her wife dedicated last year? The castle’s lead chef, worried about supplies and the guest count? The geode department technician, visiting from the wasteland border? A nopony tourist from Appleloosa, here to take in the sights and experience a little taste of royalty? They’re looking at her politely, but any one of these ponies could try to kiss her, or bite her tail, or pull her wings, or reach between her legs—

And in plain view of everypony. Instead, it’s the teacher, the chef, the technician, and the tourist watching her stand there, helpless, as hooves squeeze her rump, tongues slobber up her face, and wings stroke her stomach. Watching her struggle, and whimper, and succumb to the shameful pleasure these unnamed strangers heap upon her—

She clamps her tail down tight, praying that no one can pin her scent in a crowd this dense. Several nearby ponies are trying to discreetly check out her ass as she walks past them. Does she still reek of horny daughter—or only of horny mother? Should she have taken the time to shower, instead of rushing off on her fool quest to try and intimidate a Dragon-pony?

She hurries around a corner, apologizing to a pair of Kirins she has to shove out of the way, and spies the garden up ahead. Shining’s best are standing outside the garden, and it looks like the garden itself has been cleared of any guests. A weight lifts itself from Cadance’s withers. She needs to find that Page and thank him personally.

The Guard steps to the side and lets her pass—but not without sliding his hoof down her side as she does.

Cadance glares at him.

“Your Highness?” somepony calls from within the little enclosed garden.

Goldenrod!

Forgetting the Guard, Cadance rushes inside. Goldenrod is standing alone in the middle of the tiny garden, looking apologetic.

“Where’s Wing?” she asks, feeling the weight lower itself again.

Goldenrod shakes his head. “He refused your meeting request.”

“Damn it!” Cadance yells, stomping her hoof. “It wasn’t a request!”

Goldenrod gives a small smile. “I’m sure the poor Page did his best.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” Goldenrod says, touching her shoulder and squeezing gently. “We’ll—”

Cadance whirls around and stares at him in shock.

“You too!?”

Goldenrod freezes, his hoof still held where her shoulder was. “S—sorry, Your Highness.” He lowers his hoof and takes a step back. “It’s . . . I’m sorry.”

Cadance rolls her eyes.

Goldenrod clears his throat and looks away. “W—Wing says he will gladly meet you in his suite, at your convenience, to discuss matters of state.”

“I’ll bet he did,” Cadance grumbles. “I ought to have him dragged here. Or thrown in the fucking dungeon!”

Fuck Wing.

What now? Is she really going to confront him in his bedroom?

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll go find him. It shouldn’t take long. Where is his suite?”

Goldenrod gives her directions. “Do you want to take a Guard with you? Or maybe send one to find him?”

“No, thanks.” Cadance eyes the hoofsy Guard at the entrance. Ambassador Wing has his own aura, of sorts, and even the best intentioned pony tends to fall victim to his charm. “I think I can handle a single pony. Thanks, Goldenrod.”

“I still think you shouldn’t go alone.”

Cadance turns to leave. “Tell you what—if I’m not out in half an hour, send in a couple Guards, or something.”

“You got it. And—Cadance?” Goldenrod calls out. “Go get him.”

Cadance smiles, then hurries out.

She likes Goldenrod.

Unfortunately, Ambassador Wing’s guest suite is near the east gallery, where the real Cadance was planning on meeting Ambassador Wing. Walking into the original Cadance would be catastrophic, but even a guest spotting Cadance in two different places at once would be terrible. But there’s no good passageway to bypass the crowd. Unwilling to trust her new wings, and unable to teleport like her sister, she’ll have to make the trip herself. She gulps, but pushes forward, ignoring the inevitable pleas for her attention. Maybe she should’ve taken the Guard with her, for no other reason than to clear a path, but she’s never needed one before.

Hmm. Even when she walks with her wife . . . She’s never noticed ponies treating the original Cadance with anything other than polite personal space. Even the needy ones. Does Shining’s body negate Cadance’s aura, somehow? Or does his presence simply deter unwanted attention?

Deep in thought, Cadance turns a corner without looking and—

BAM

—spawls backwards, crashing to the floor.

“Urgh,” Cadance groans, shaking her head and blinking the sparkles from her vision before climbing to her hooves. She definitely should’ve taken the Guard.

A groan pulls her attention downwards. An Earth Pony mare is lying in front of her, the contents of her bag spilled everywhere.

“Oh!” Cadance yelps. “I’m so sorry! Let me help—”

She’s about to collect the pony’s belongings in her magic before remembering that that’s off-limits today.

The mare looks up at her, and gasps. “No! Your Highness, it’s my fault! I wasn’t watching where I was going . . . I guess I bumped into you.”

Cadance helps pull her to her hooves, and gestures to a Page to help clean up the mess. “Are you hurt? Stunned? I can get you some help.”

The mare blinks. “Stunned? No, I . . . ”

Cadance eyes the pony critically. She looks a little dazed, but she’s standing upright and not falling over. “Let me get somepony to help.”

“Wait!”

Cadance pauses. “What?”

“Just—let me do this.” Without waiting for a response or explaining why she’s even there, the mare puts a hoof on Cadance’s back and steps up.

Cadance gasps, twisting around to watch. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m sorry, My Princess,” she mutters, leaning forward. She settles her chest atop Cadance’s back and nuzzles her nose into the base of Cadance’s wings. “You just . . . smell so good,” she continues, breathing into Cadance’s back.

“Thank . . . you?” Cadance says. For the love of Celestia . . . Already there are ponies watching—including a few Castle Guards who look very interested. “You should get off, ma’am.”

The mare hums gently, then kisses Cadance’s neck, while she shimmies and shifts, wrapping her forelegs around Cadance’s shoulders—

“My husband and I are here from Appleloosa,” the mare continues, like nothing’s wrong.

—licks her neck, and presses her hip up against Cadance’s—

“He has tickets to the ball tonight, but I saw you and I knew I had to come and say hello.”

—and hops her hindleg up and over Cadance’s rump. Cadance freezes, feeling the mare’s thighs squeeze around her hips and the mare’s groin settling atop her tail.

She’s humping Cadance.

In plain sight of damned near the whole castle.

The mare doesn’t seem to notice. “If we see you tonight, at the dance—” She licks Cadance’s neck again, and wiggles her rump. “—would you like to dance with us? My dear Pumpkin Pie, he’d probably faint just to talk to you—”

“My Princess?” another pony says. A young stallion is staring up at her, blushing as the Appleloosian humps away at her. “I don’t mean to intrude, but, um—can I kiss you?”

“What?!”

“It’s just—it’s been a tough year and I could really use some intimacy,” he says, rubbing his foreleg and looking at the floor. “Please?”

“Mmm,” the mare on her back moans. “You should help him out, Your Highness. You are the Princess of Love.”

Cadance is pretty sure making out with her subjects isn’t in her wife’s job description. At least, she hopes it isn’t. And there are foals watching! “No! I’m sorry, my little pony, but if you come find me later, I’ll see if I can find time to talk.” What would the original Cadance say? “Love is a complicated subject, and—URK!”

A tongue slaps at her horn from behind and slobbers its way from the base to the tip. The sudden heat and wetness are debilitating, sending shocks down her spine. She can feel drool sliding down her horn and soaking through her mane.

“Stop . . . ” Cadance manages, struggling to unstick her brain. Is this what she does to the real Cadance when she sucks her horn? Cadance claims to like it, but this is almost painful! “Please!”

The Appleloosian pulls back with a slurp and smacks her lips. “You’re so tasty, Your Highness,” she moans, slapping her crotch against Cadance’s spine.

Cadance staggers, finally catching her breath, and looks around her. A dozen ponies are watching. Some look shocked, or angry; others are smirking, ogling the Princess. Imagining they could have the next turn with her.

“Get off,” Cadance hisses, staring at her audience.

“Mmm, pardon, Your Highness, but I think I’m about to—”

“Get off!” Cadance yells, tossing the mare off her back. A Guard is there before the mare even hits the ground, quickly pinning her.

Hushed gasps surround her. Every single pair of eyes is pointed at her, each pony staring in shocked silence, including the mare from Appleloosa.

Cadance gulps. “She . . . she was climbing . . . ” she mutters, breaking the silence. Whispers start bouncing down the hall, louder than the crush of ponies was when it was speaking normally.

“Your Highness?” the Guard asks, looking for guidance.

Cadance looks at the mare. She looks shaken, like Cadance feels. Did that really just happen?

“Take—take her back to the lobby,” she says finally, mustering as much false confidence as she can and trying to hide her panting breaths.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Guard says. He pulls the Appleloosian back into the crowd and out of sight.

Cadance shakes herself and stands up straight, trying to regain a little royal poise. She figures this little display will discourage other ponies from getting too close, maybe stop the blatant escalation—

A pair of hooves grab her rump, while a stallion moves in front of her, a blush dusting his cheeks and his lips already puckering.

Fuck it.

Cadance shoves him aside, whistles at the two Guards who are currently watching her get groped, and yells, “Make a hole!”

They jump into action. The hall is crowded beyond belief—possibly unsafely crowded—but they knock ponies back, clearing a narrow path. The sight of bare crystal floor in front of her is invigorating. Cadance runs up behind the Guards, keeping pace as they push their way down the hallway and ignoring the yelps and cries of the poor ponies getting shoved to the side. A young mother with a pair of fillies is about to get trampled, but Shining’s finest grab them and lift them out of the way just in time.

The door to Ambassador Wing’s suite looms out of the crowd, taller than even the tallest guest. The Guards shove three loitering punks out of the way just in time for Cadance to slam into it face first.

The crowd is forming up behind her.

Cadance gives a single knock out of politeness before yanking on the handle. It’s unlocked! Wing must be waiting for her. She barges in and slams the door shut behind her. Sizzling it locked blocks most of the sound.

It’s suddenly, blessedly quiet. Cadance slumps against the door and slides to the floor, and tries to catch her breath.

The Ambassador’s suite is splendid. Despite her intense dislike for the stallion, he is a royal guest of some significance, and the furnishings reflect that: soft red and gold trim, wooden furniture, and old books filling a bookcase. There actually is a fireplace, crackling in the corner and putting out pleasant heat. In the middle of the room is an expansive bed, covered in soft pillows and cushions.

The only thing missing is Ambassador Wing. He’s not in his room.

But his two whores are.

“Prin-cess Ca-dance,” they sing in unison.

A Pegasus mare and an Earth Pony stallion slide off the big bed and slink up towards her.

“Where is he?” Cadance growls, jumping to her hooves.

“Our master apologizes, and has asked us to keep you entertained until he returns,” the mare says, stepping to the left. Her hips bounce and her tail flicks with each step, drawing Cadance’s eyes despite her best efforts. Her wings are full, though lacking the luster that proper maintenance would provide. She’s wearing socks that reach nearly all the way up her legs and there’s a little bow in her tail.

“Won’t you join us?” the stallion says, moving with the weightless grace Cadance would expect from a Pegasus, not an Earth Pony; he’s slender with a soft face and a long, flowing mane. If he hadn’t spoken, Cadance could easily pretend he was a mare as well—not to mention he’s only wearing a skirt. “We’re very entertaining.”

A very short skirt.

Oh, no.

Cadance groans and rubs her forehead. “No, thank you. I’m far too busy to babysit. Where is he?” she asks again, stepping back to keep them both in view.

The two companions share a smile. “Prowling.”

“Where?” she presses.

“Oh, he could be anywhere,” they sing.

“Great. Great!” Cadance huffs. “I’ve got important business with him, and he’s—he’s out getting laid!”

“Don’t feel bad,” the mare says, circling around behind her. Her socks draw Cadance’s eyes as she walks. “I’m sure he’d rather be with you.”

“He’s probably looking for you,” the stallion offers, passing the mare. He’s not shy about flicking his tail out of the way as he walks. He’s even had it cut short. “He talks about you often enough.”

“He misses you.”

“He really likes you.”

Cadance rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Enjoy your stay. Ask a staff member if you need anything. And please keep your sexual behavior to yourselves while you’re guests in my Castle.” She turns to leave—even a hall full to the brim of hoofsy, overly familiar, groping ponies is better than getting snared in Wing’s trap.

“Sexual behavior?” the mare wonders.

“She thinks we’re whores,” the stallion says.

“Really? Why?”

“No idea. Maybe because our Master has us dress a certain way?”

“Or maybe because our Master fucks us at his slightest whim?”

“Either way, that doesn’t make us whores.”

“We are, but not because of how we look—”

“—or how we dress—”

“—or how we fuck ponies for a living.”

“It’s pretty rude, if you ask us.”

“Especially given that she’s a Princess.”

“And only just met us!”

Cadance comes to a stop, her jaw clenched tight.

The two not-whores continue, “Are all the Crystal Ponies like this?”

“That’s not very friendly at all.”

“It’s a little friendly.”

“It means she thinks we’re attractive.”

“That’s no surprise.”

“Everypony was staring at us when we arrived.”

“And our Master does like to fuck us.”

“Certainly not our fault.”

“We can understand the assumption.”

“Still a little rude, of course.”

“Fine!” Cadance stomps her hoof. “Fine. You’re not his whores. You’re his . . . escort, or whatever.” She seethes for a few moments. The door is so close! “I’m sorry for assuming. I was told you were brought to set the other delegates on edge, and you’re both exceptionally healthy young ponies. And I wouldn’t put it past Ambassador Wing to bring a harem with him if he thought it would give him an advantage.”

“Aww!” the mare croons, stepping up to Cadance and nuzzling her cheek. “She thinks we’re cute!”

“We knew the ponies here were friendly,” the stallion says, stepping to the other side and pressing his body up alongside Cadance’s. The feeling is getting surprisingly familiar today.

Though they deny it, Cadance is still pretty sure they’re here strictly to destabilize things. They’re doing a good job of putting her off balance. Their coats are soft, their voices breathy. Not to mention their ridiculous fuck-me outfits. The mare’s chest fluff fills Cadance’s view. The stallion’s neck and shoulder are firm and warm. No sense of personal space. The thick, cloying stench of brimstone infuses each breath she takes, along with a hint of what she thinks is spicy cinnamon.

The not-whores inhale, too.

“You smell sweet.”

“Like cotton candy.”

“That’s—that’s nice,” Cadance says, freeing herself. It’s also a lie: she probably still smells like her daughter. No wonder all those ponies were getting so hoofsy. “Do—do you have names?”

“Sugar,” the Pegasus mare says.

“Spice,” the Earth Pony stallion says.

“Do you have to leave?”

“You might as well stay here.”

“Our Master said he’d be back before the opening ceremonies.”

“So you could wait for him here.”

“He did ask us to entertain you, if you showed up.”

“Would you like us to entertain you?”

“There’s so much we could talk about,” Spice says.

“We want to learn about what’s happening in Equestria,” Sugar says.

“We’ve been away for so long.”

“We miss our home, Your Highness.”

“At least, we want to learn about it.”

“We ask our Master for news.”

“But all he ever gives us is orgasms.”

“Drowning in orgasms, Your Highness.”

“But starving for news about Equestria.”

“We hear all sorts of things about the Dragonlands.”

“And about the Dragonlord.”

“All sorts of interesting things.”

“Would you like to hear some interesting things?”

Cadance figures the only thing worse than dealing with Ambassador Wing would be dealing with Ambassador Wing when he’s insufferably smug after catching her waiting for him in his private suite. “No, thank you. Enjoy your stay.”

“Did you know Dragonlord Ember is trying to produce an heir?”

Cadance whirls around. “What?!”

Spice nods, circling Cadance. “Emphasis on trying.”

“Whenever our Master brings us to the Lair the whole building reeks of sex.”

“Dessicated husks stumble out regularly.”

“And the noises.”

“Dragonlord Ember deafens us when she comes.”

Cadance has met Dragonlord Ember before. She’s attractive, for a Dragoness. Just starting to grow towards her next form, she still has curves in all the right places and instinctively uses them to her advantage. But it’s her personality that makes Cadance nervous. She reminds Cadance of Queen Chrysalis: leadership has made her seductive, arrogant, and extremely dominant. Shining is no pushover, but Ember could probably fuck him half to death if she tried. And imagining her in the throws of an orgasm, riding atop a hulking male Dragon urgently spewing liters of sizzling Dragon semen inside her—

Is her wife always this horny?

Spice shrugs. “She has convinced herself that a Unicorn with enough magic could stud her and sire Dragon offspring.”

Cadance’s jaw drops. “That’s . . . That’s impossible. And—and pointless! Surely there are male dragons up to the task.”

“Plenty. But none have succeeded.”

“And if she could produce a Dragon heir with the magic of a Unicorn, she would wield even more power.”

Maybe meeting these two has been fortuitous. Cadance has dealt with enough untrustworthy ponies to recognize when there’s a grain of truth within obvious lies. She has to tell Shining—

Cadance. She has to tell Cadance. She shakes her head. This is getting ridiculous, and her arousal is slowly eroding her critical thinking skills. “Thank you for that info. If you’ll excuse me—”

But Spice slips around her and stands between her and the door. “Please don’t go!”

“We only just met,” Sugar says.

“We’re already sharing.”

“Like good friends.”

“You wouldn’t leave your good friends without sharing in exchange?”

“We won’t tell our Master.”

“We know you don’t like him.”

“We get so lonely when he’s out prowling.”

Cadance growls. If she were in her original body she’d have no hesitation grabbing them and flinging them out of the way, but if anypony sees her miscolored magic now they’ll know something was wrong. “I have other appointments—” she lies.

Sugar trails her hoof down Cadance’s body. “No, you don’t. We already checked with your silly Pages.”

Silly Pages she’ll have to discipline after this. Her schedules are private. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she says.

Sugar and Spice look at each other. “What is that?” they ask in tandem.

Cadance rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to spy on us, or stall for time, or distract me while Wing gets away with something. That’s why he brought you—so you could get ponies off their guard and exploit some weakness for Wing and Dragonlord Ember.”

Sugar and Spice laugh, pressing close.

“How silly!”

“We’re not spies!”

“We’re not smart enough to be spies.”

“Wing didn’t bring us so we could disrupt your little diplomacy club meetings.”

“Uh huh.” Cadance knows lying when she sees it. “So why did he bring you?”

Sugar is suddenly right in front of her. “He brought us to kiss,” she says, grazing Cadance’s cheek with her lips.

Spice breathes on her cutie mark. “He brought us here to cuddle,” he says, before nuzzling Cadance’s big blue heart.

Sugar slides her hoof under Cadance’s wing. “We’re here for him to grope—”

Spice lifts his hindleg to the side, showing off his substantial erection hanging free below his skirt. “—and to molest—”

Sugar turns around and flicks her tail out of the way, revealing her puffy, shiny vulva. “—and to fuck.”

Cadance gulps. These are not lies, she knows. She can imagine Ambassador Wing taking out his anger, frustration, and resentment on these two ponies, and she knows they’d take it with cum-covered smiles and upturned rumps, tongues lolling out and tails wagging like simple animals. Panting happily. If she wanted to, Cadance could easily overpower them and fuck them, too.

Or she could let them fuck her—

“Our master is an insatiable pervert, Your Highness.”

“We’re the only way he makes it through the day, Your Highness.”

“You should be pleased we’re here.”

“We’ve kept him tempered for now.”

“But we’re so horny.”

“We just want to cuddle.”

“And kiss.”

“And maybe come on you a little.”

“Just a little.”

Cadance whimpers.

“Oh, Princess.”

“It’s okay!”

Sugar hugs her, squeezing tight. “We don’t judge.”

“You’re a pony with needs, like all of us.”

“Let us take care of you!” Sugar buries her face in Cadance’s chest fluff, inhaling deeply. “Mmm . . . you feel so soft.”

Spice steps up behind her and grabs her rump with both hooves, starts squeezing and massaging. “You smell so lovely.”

“So much softer—”

“—and so much lovelier—”

“—than the Dragons that fuck us.”

Sugar looks up at Cadance over her chest fluff. Her face is flushed, her nostrils flaring. “Relax, your Highness.”

Spice nuzzles his face against her rump and rubs his nose through her tail. “Let us treat you like a Princess—”

Cadance moans, thrusting her rump back against him. She knows she shouldn’t, that these two are affecting her, somehow. But she’s been simmering since she dealt with Flurry and these two are pushing her buttons like she’s a machine with a very helpful, very detailed manual. She’s not dealing with simpering nobleponies or innocent, out-of-their-depth fillies. These are professionals.

All she has to do is let go, say yes, and let them lead her to their enormous bed, and before she knows it the afternoon will be gone in a mess of sweat, saliva, and semen. Her pussy throbs, just from being in the presence of what Cadance expects is a massive, virile horsecock, and she’s salivating just from the smell of flushed, warm vulva.

“—or, if you like, we can treat you like a whore,” Sugar remarks.

“Haa . . . ” Cadance exhales, as soon as she can catch her breath. “What are you doing?”

“We’re trying to fuck you.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Is it working?”

“Are you on edge?”

“Are you horny?”

“Do you want to fuck us?”

“Do you want us to fuck you?”

“There’s plenty of time.”

“We could lock the doors if you like.”

“So our Master won’t interrupt us.”

“We won’t tell him.”

“We weren’t even planning on it.”

“But being around you is intoxicating.”

“Your smell is intoxicating.”

“You smell like horny filly, Your Highness.”

“Do you normally smell like horny filly, Your Highness?”

“It’s nice.”

“Better than what we normally smell.”

“Horny Dragon smell is so gross, Your Highness.”

“But you smell wonderful.”

“So horny.”

“Let us fuck you, Your Highness.”

“It can be our dirty little secret.”

It’s too much. The two ponies are relentless.

Cadance shudders. “I . . . I don’t . . . ”

Sugar grabs her face and kisses her.

Spice steps atop her backside.

Her tongue squeezes between Cadance’s lips.

His cock pokes against Cadance’s pussy.

Panic grips Cadance.

Fuck it. They probably won’t notice that her magic is miscolored. Cadance ignites her horn, twists herself free, and grabs the two whores in her teekay, holding them up off of the floor.

“Enough!” she snaps. “I said—”

“Mmm,” Sugar breathes, twisting in Cadance’s teekay.

“Oh!” Spice exclaims, arching his back.

Sugar spreads her hind legs, letting Cadance’s teekay mold itself around her hips and thighs and dripping groin.

Spice rolls his hips, pressing his hugely erect cock through her magical grip.

Cadance stares.

“Ooh! We love Unicorns,” Sugar moans, spreading her forelegs like she’s trying to hug the nimbus of magic suspending her in midair. “Like we’re fucking a cloud.”

“So tingly,” Spice groans, thrusting slowly. “Like we’re wearing the smoothest panties.”

Cadance gulps, suddenly grateful that she doesn’t have a very detailed sense of teekay like her wife and her sister do—because she’s basically groping their bodies. “Stop—stop resisting,” she mutters without much heat.

“Why? Are we being bad?”

“Do you want to punish us?”

They giggle.

Sweet fucking Celestia. Cadance nulls her horn. The ponies tumble to the ground in a pile, limbs tangled.

Cadance whirls around and yanks at the door knob.

It’s locked.

She sizzled it shut when she entered!

And before Cadance can even think of how to solve that particular problem, the two whores bite down on her tail and yank her back into the center of the room. Four hooves under her gut. Grunting. She’s suddenly weightless, flying through the air. She yelps in shock, wings flapping uselessly, but lands on her side on their very soft bed, limbs splayed out, wings askew.

The two whores gasp.

“Your wings are beautiful,” one of them says, running their nose up under her wing joint.

“Elegant wings,” the other says, taking the tip into their mouth.

Cadance cries out, clenching her eyes shut. She’s sensitive there. “Care . . . careful,” she pants.

“Sorry, Princess.” A lick under her wing joint.

“We don’t get much practice with other ponies’ wings.” A nibble.

“Our master doesn’t let us play with his wings.”

“Dragons wings aren’t as sexual, Your Highness.”

“They make him anxious.”

“But yours are.”

“Such span.”

“And volume.”

“And color!”

Spice slides his face through her feathers and bites her neck. “Can you show us?” he whispers into her ear.

Cadance shudders, then works her wings, trying to spread them. They’re still unfamiliar, and it’s a little awkward, on her side on the bed, but she must be doing something right, because both of the whores gasp.

“Amazing.”

“Majestic.”

They sound almost reverent. Cadance wipes the drool on her chin. “Thuh—thanks.”

A hoof strokes her face.

“Relax!”

“You’ll really enjoy this.”

“We’re really good at our jobs.”

“Let us kiss you.”

“You like kissing, right?”

She really does.

One of their faces—Cadance can’t tell whose: they look so similar, and her vision is blurry—hovers over hers. The pony winks, then closes their eyes and touches their lips to Cadance’s. It’s a gentle kiss, slow and light, without the disgusting sloppiness she expected from these two sexual beings. Cadance moans, reaches up to wrap a hoof around the pony’s neck, and pulls them close. A chest lands on hers. Hooves around her shoulders, stroking her wings. She thought her wife was soft, but this pony is silk, and their gentle, warm weight eases some of her panic, like being swaddled by a loving mother. The lips press a little harder, open a little, and slip a curious tongue inside Cadance’s mouth. A trickle of drool. Gentle squeezes around her shoulders. Cadance groans into the kiss, presses back, squeezes harder. It’s a tender kiss, like the ones she gives her wife when she’s lonely or frustrated or angry at the world. Graceful. Sugar tilts her head and the kiss heats up, her tongue no longer curious. Sugar’s breaths blast on her cheeks, like the exhaust from a furnace.

Cadance twists her head to the side. “Sugar—” she pants. “You’re . . . what are you doing to me?”

Sugar grabs her face and pulls her back, kisses her again. Sucks her tongue. Trying to suck Cadance’s soul right out of her mouth.

Cadance shudders. She’s never come from just kissing somepony, but now she’s wondering if it’ll be enough—

Another mouth descends on her, this one on her stomach. While Sugar bites her tongue and rubs her chest, Spice bites her navel and rubs her thighs. The two twist atop her, and it’s hard to tell where one whore stops and the other starts. Spice—at least, she thinks it’s Spice, from how eagerly he laps at her abdomen and how little he cares to explore her midsection in favor of her more exciting parts—grabs her hips, twists her onto her back, and nuzzles between her knees. Cadance rolls onto her back and flops her legs apart, exposing herself without hesitation. Inviting him, but Spice follows her knee instead, licking and nibbling her inner thigh. Slobbering on her. Disgusting. So fucking hot.

Sugar breaks the kiss, panting for breath, then slowly turns to the side, licking her way down Cadance’s chest. Her hooves trace their way down her barrel, stopping at her lowest rib bone. Sugar twists in place, joining her partner in crime below.

Her hips press against Cadance’s cheek, and she can smell Sugar’s crotch. The air is thick with her scent, a heavy, musky scent. It actually smells like Spice’s cock, and she realizes the stallion must’ve been down here recently. Cadance swoons. She’s not sure she’s ready to suck Spice’s cock, but she can probably lick Sugar’s pussy. She twists her head to the side, licking at her hips, eager to slide Sugar’s leg over her face so she can lick and nibble and drink—

Why is there a skirt in her face?

Spice!

The delicate, feminine kisser is Spice. The stallion wearing a ridiculous pink skirt.

Which means the mouth going down on her is Sugar’s, and—

Spice lifts his knee up and over, slaps his balls on her forehead, and presses his cock against her cheek. It’s hard and hot and wet, dripping precum down her chin and neck. Heavy, and pulsing with his heartbeat.

Cadance’s gasp fills her lungs with his scent. He smells like sweat and cum and mare juices. So potent. She can imagine that the furry spheres pressing into her forehead are full of spunk, bubbling and excited to be so close to a Princess. What does his cum taste like? Can she swallow it all in one gulp? Probably not. These are huge, and heavy, and so—so soft . . . She groans, turning her head to rub her forehead under them.

And his cock . . . Spice humps at her face, pressing his cock down her muzzle while he squeezes her head between his thighs. She licks up the underside of his cock, tracing the little veins circling his shaft. Tastes his junk.

“Fu-hu-huck,” she moans. She’s definitely ready to suck his cock.

Spice grunts and bucks his hips, spilling precum down her throat and over her chest. And Sugar settles her lower body atop Cadance’s hind leg and humps her shin, dragging her sopping cunt up and down Cadance’s leg. She slides her tongue up the inside of her leg and teases around her pussy. Cadance bucks her hips upward, desperate to catch her mouth over her cunt. More laughter. They know they’ve got her. They can play with her, take their time. They can prepare her for Ambassador Wing, who’s going to arrive any moment and find the Princess laid out like a buffet for him to lick and kiss and bite and fuck. Maybe the three of them will take turns fucking her, over and over, all night long—

Sugar buries her muzzle between Cadance’s thighs and laps a long, slobbering lick from under her tail, over her asshole, up her slit to finish at her belly button.

Cadance tilts her head back and howls.

Spice angles his hips, holds her head in place, and shoves his whore cock into her mouth, filling her up in a moment.

Her first cock. And it does fill her mouth, jamming her jaw open wide and flattening her tongue against the floor of her mouth. He hits the back of her mouth and thrusts right into her throat, no hesitation or concern. Maybe he’s used to fucking easy throats, or maybe he just doesn’t care, but the cock humping in and out of her esophagus is brutal and relentless, easily blocking her air. His crotch slams right into her muzzle, his balls pressing against her eyelids. His whole lower body is dominating her head, and fuck is it hot. It’s just so decadent. So filthy. Spice humps away at her face without hesitation, while his partner does the same to her hindleg. Any pleasure she’s deriving is probably secondary to them; all they have to do is get themselves off and their victim will probably do so as well. Cadance certainly will. She’s nearing the edge, despite having her throat plugged full of cock, despite their hooves not knowing all her little spots like she knows on the real Cadance, and despite how little intimacy she’s earned with them. Sugar does know how to eat a pussy, after all, and apparently Cadance loves swallowing cock as much as she loved getting her cock sucked, in her original body. Maybe more.

Or maybe it’s all Changeling magic turning Cadance into a whore herself.

Whatever the cause, it’s overwhelming. She could handle having to hold her breath. She could handle being restrained and blinded. And she could handle a mouth going down on her, a tongue slipping inside her, a nose blasting breath after breath of cold exhale right on her burning groin. But all of that together forms a tension, an anxiety that she can’t handle, especially stacked on top of everything. A claustrophobia that fights the wall of pleasure for dominance. These whores will not stop until she makes them—and she is not going to stop them. They’re going to kill her. She’s going to die fucking these two. And if she doesn’t, it’ll only be because someone barges in to interrupt them, exposing her inner filthy slut for all to see—

Someone like Goldenrod, or Flurry—or even the real Cadance.

Sugar licks something deep inside her, and Cadance comes. She would throw her head back and howl, if her mouth weren’t locked in place by Spice’s rabid thrusting horse meat. Instead all she can do is moan into his crotch, starve herself of oxygen, and flop like a dying fish.

Spice’s hips slap against her cheeks, again and again, then he whinnies, shoves his cock down her throat, and comes. Surge after surge of cum pulses down his cock, spreading her jaw wide and pressing her tongue flat. Cum explodes down her throat, adding to the relentless heat that suffuses the whole room. Like she’s swallowed a cupful of thick, creamy coffee directly into her stomach. Spice howls again, spilling another rope directly into her stomach. His thrusting hips bounce her head up and down on the bed. His cock wrenches free of her throat. Cadance barely has time to gasp before a wad of semen bursts in her mouth, so much that it splatters over her cheeks and down her throat. She can’t even swallow, she’s so stunned; all she can do is cough and gag and twist her head to the side, letting him unload the rest of his spunk all over her cheek and down her neck.

Spice and Sugar crowd over her, start licking at the spunk sticking to her forehead and cheeks and lips. They don't even give her a chance to catch her breath.

“How was that, Your Highness?”

“Did you like swallowing our cum?”

“Did you come, too?”

“Do you want to come more?”

“We’re not done yet.”

“Our Master still hasn’t returned.”

“And we know you can handle so much more.”

“With this wonderful body built for sex.”

“My little brother can go for hours.”

“And my big sister can come over and over and over.”

Cadance moans. They’re siblings? She knows it can’t be true, but she wants to believe. “Yes . . . please, fuck me.” Without bothering to wipe the rest of semen from her face or pull the torn feathers from her chest, she struggles onto her stomach, spilling cum all over the silky covers, and thrusts her butt into the air. “Fuck me . . . ”

“Oh, Princess!” Spice gasps. “What a mess back here. What a fucking mess. We thought you were a Princess. We thought you were proper, clean, and majestic. But you’re swamped—”

He licks his tongue up Cadance’s slit, noisily, sloppily.

“—and you’re flooded—”

Another lick, then a deep gasping inhale.

“—and you reek like a Dragonlands pink palace.”

Sugar crawls around to face Cadance. “And she called us whores.” She bites Cadance’s nose, then licks her lips.

“Haaa,” Cadance pants, hanging her head. Thrusting her butt back at Spice. “Stop teasing me!”

He pulls back and spits on her ass. “No, Your Highness.”

Sugar grabs her by the horn and spits on her face. “You’ve been a bad Princess, Your Highness.”

Spice spanks her ass, a sudden clap that sends Cadance reeling. “Taking advantage of two innocent little ponies.”

Sugar bites her muzzle, making Cadance moan. “Maybe we should wait for our Master to return.”

“He’ll know what to do with you.”

“It’s probably just fucking you.”

“That would be the simplest.”

“But he’s so creative when he’s angry and horny.”

“He’ll probably come up with something better.”

“Maybe he’ll bring your family to watch.”

“Maybe he’ll force you to negotiate for your silly rocks while you’re getting fucked by all three of us.”

“Maybe he’ll bring you into the conference room and let you suck his cock while he diplomacies with the other guests.”

“Of course, you could lock him out.”

“You could stay in here and keep us company.”

“So, Your Highness?”

“Are you going to stay?”

“You could use your magic and leave anytime you want.”

“We certainly can’t hold you back.”

“It’s your castle.”

“Your locked door.”

“You’re only been here a few minutes.”

“Nopony will notice.”

“Will you stay or will you go now?”

Cadance stares at the bed. Only a few minutes ago the answer would be easy. But now, with chemicals spinning in her blood, the heady scent of sex filling her lungs, and the taste of prime stallion semen still on her tongue—No, the answer is still easy.

Now would be when Goldenrod is supposed to return. Supposed to save her. Surely somepony will barge in and save her from making a fool of herself.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, ashamed at herself even as she does. But she needs to come, and needs that wonderful dick back inside her, filling her up and making her whole again. “Fuck me!”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Spice licks her neck, then steps his chest atop her spine, grips her hips, and shimmies forward. His cock pokes against her pussy.

Sugar reaches around her shoulders and hugs her close. “Good little whore. Just let it happen.”

Spice bites the back of her neck, holds tight, and thrusts, piercing her pussy with his enormous cock.

Cadance gasps, grabbing for the covers. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Is it like this for the real Cadance? How does she manage it? It’s too much. Too big. He slides in without resistance, still covered in cum and saliva, and Cadance is swamped. In a single motion his hips slap against her ass.

“Yes—”

The door sizzles open.

“—Fuck me!”

Two Guards burst in, spears at the ready, yelling for them to release the Princess.

The two whores leap back, and start wailing.

“No!”

“Don’t hurt us!”

“It’s not our fault!”

“She made us fuck her!”

“Please help us!”

“Her Highness is a terrible pervert.”

“A horribly horny tyrant.”

“You should arrest her!”

Cadance buries her face in the blankets and whines.

“Cadance?” a voice calls. “Cadance!”

Cadance looks up.

Goldenrod pushes past the Guards. His face glows in the light from the fireplace. “Are you hurt? I can get you some help.”

“Whuh . . . what’s going on?”

Goldenrod crouches in front of her and eyes her critically. Cadance feels her cheeks warming. Goldenrod is one of her wife’s closest professional friends; to be seen like this is not doing her relationship any favors. This is probably the first time Goldenrod has seen the Princess look so fucked—figuratively or literally.

It’s also the first time she has ever realized how handsome Goldenrod is.

Goldenrod gulps. “I know you said to wait, but then I saw Ambassador Wing outside, and . . . Oh, Cadance.”

She looks away, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

“It was your aura, wasn’t it?” Goldenrod whispers, quiet enough that only the two of them can hear. He’s professional even in the face of all of this. “You really need to tell your husband. I think it’s getting worse.”

“Just—” Cadance exhales.

The hormones and adrenaline flowing through her blood have nothing to do, nowhere to go, so she’s left with a touch of euphoria mixed with the aftereffects of a good orgasm. She’s been kissed, licked, spat on, groped, molested, and fucked. Her face is covered in cum, and she looks like a well used whore. Feels like one too. Her coworkers, staff, and subjects have seen her at her worst today and the shame and humiliation are turning her on, which is only making it worse.

She doesn’t need a lecture. She needs to fuck somepony.

Cadance stares into his eyes. Sees the need reflected in them. Given everything else she’s done today, would it kill her to reward him with what he clearly wants? Maybe just a kiss?

“—just help me clean myself up, please. I promise I’ll tell Shining Armor later.”

Goldenrod’s face falls. He looks at the Guards, then at the whores, then back at Cadance.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Goldenrod stands, then offers his hoof. If he is repulsed by her condition—or aroused by it—he doesn’t show it. Consummately professional, even in the worst of situations.

She likes Goldenrod.

As Goldenrod helps her towards the ensuite—her legs are still shaking, damn it—and starts filling the sink with hot water, one the Guards asks, “What about them?”

Cadance looks.

Sugar and Spice—brother and sister whores, apparently—are huddled together against the wall, eyes wide with fright. Poor, miserable things. Frozen in place. Still dressed in their ridiculous outfits. Literally incapable of handling anything other than sex. They must have been normal when they were colt and filly. What did Wing do to them?

Cadance shrugs. “Confine them to this suite. It’s not their fault. I’ll deal with them later. Oh, and Goldenrod,” she says, as she hunches over the sink. “I’ve got some info about the Dragonlord that you’ll love hearing. Get this . . . ”

Author's Note

I should've done more with Spice's teeny pink skirt.

:facehoof:

I'll suck your cock for a comment or two. Please, daddy?

Part Four

Before Cadance leaves the room she has her Guards assemble in front of her and prepare to clear a path. No more will she allow her aura to interfere with her plan. She finally feels like she understands how strong it can be, and she respects it. But she still has to deal with Ambassador Wing, and put an end to this.

“Are you sure you don’t want some Guards in there with you, Your Highness?” Goldenrod asks. “Or me?”

Cadance shakes her head. “It’s one thing to keep the guests away. I can’t afford for Ambassador Wing to think I’m weak. I am a Princess, for Celestia’s sake. It’s about time ponies started recognizing that.”

“You’re the boss, Your Highness.”

Goldenrod opens the door and sound floods back in. The hall outside Ambassador Wing’s room is crowded, and though she knows the rooms are fairly sound proofed, she wonders whether any of these ponies knows what she just did. She gulps, but forces the issue from her mind. Those that didn’t hear anything are probably imagining it anyways. She just has to project her aura of royalty, instead of her fuck-me aura. She steps outside, letting her Guards escort her.

Perhaps her earlier commotion is still on everypony’s mind, because the crowd thins immediately, creatures pressing back against the wall. The whispers and rumors pick up, and Cadance can hear her name, as well as Ambassador Wing’s, Shining’s, and even her daughter’s. She plasters a polite smile in place and ignores them all, but it’s a long, heavy, oppressive walk. She feels a little like she’s being led to her execution. By the time her Guards lead her towards the main lobby, one of the largest and most crowded rooms in the castle, she feels very mortal.

There’s a break in the crowd—some ponies stepping out of the way in deference to the Princess, others on their way somewhere else—and there he is, near the wall. Dragonlord Ember’s ambassador to Ponykind: Ambassador Crimson Wing. A Pegasus stallion who’s been living with dragons for years now. Living like dragons, too. Cadance and the Ambassador have known one another for several years now, and though their contact is limited to these diplomatic functions their interactions have become somewhat of an event of their own. Even now, once ponies see who is on either end of the showdown they stop talking to watch.

Wing doesn’t see her immediately. He’s busy chatting with one of the castle Guards, smiling and laughing. The Guard, a mare in Shining’s unit, looks at ease and maybe even a little smitten. Wing can be quite charming when he wants to. As a Pony, he’s more disarming than a Dragon; more trustworthy. No doubt Dragonlord Ember appointed him due to his seductive personality. The Guard leans forward, her tail flicking, and bites her lip while Wing talks.

It’s only after dealing with him over and over that Cadance, usually a great judge of character, has come to realize Wing is a cold, hard bastard. Even if the Guard were off-duty, Cadance would still be angry at him just for talking to her.

Just when the Guard looks ready to completely abandon her post and follow him anywhere, the Ambassador turns and notices her. A practiced smile creeps across his handsome muzzle. After a few moments he starts walking toward her, and Cadance realizes with a sinking feeling she has no idea what she’s supposed to say or do. Telling him to stay away from her wife is simple in theory, but . . .

“Your Highness,” Crimson Wing says, bowing low. Something clinks in his saddlebags.

“Ambassador,” Cadance says, dipping her head. Is she supposed to bow in return? Shining would, but he’s not a Princess. And everypony is watching them, too.

Before she can figure it out, Crimson Wing stands and says, “I have a message from Dragonlord Ember. She regrets that she is unable to meet you in person, and reminds you that the instant this relationship stops being profitable she will rain hellfire and brimstone upon your tiny kingdom.” His smile is smart and professional, even as he threatens his audience with fiery doom.

Her wife said this is just typical Dragon posturing. Cadance notes that no one yells in terror or faints in shock. This might be some annual tradition. Wary of saying the wrong thing and potentially starting a war, Cadance says, slowly, “Tell Dragonlord Ember that her attendance is missed . . . and that she is welcome to try.”

Ambassador Crimson cocks an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. “I’ll do just that.” He reaches over his shoulder, undoes his saddlebags, and sets them before Cadance. They look like real leather. “As a token of Dragonlord Ember’s faith in your continued relationship, she offers a gift for your little wind-swept wonderland, to keep the snow at bay.”

He bends low to nose the bag open, and something heavy sounding inside knocks against another something. A flash of golden light.

Those are geodes, Cadance realizes.

Those are geodes!

“Wait!” Cadance yells. She ignites her horn and grabs the bag, yanking it from his grip while trying her best to keep the flap shut. It’s heavy.

Ambassador Wing narrows his eyes. Cadance smirks, feeling a spark of pride at having figured out his game before he can play it—geodes wouldn’t explode, per se, but they’d turn the room into a loud, brilliant sauna in an instant—before following his gaze upwards.

Her horn. Her magic!

She nulls her horn and releases the bag. Hopefully nopony was looking too closely. Trying to push attention back onto Wing, she stands straight and says, “Do not bring live geodes into the Castle, Ambassador. You know better.”

Ambassador Wing tilts his head. “Geodes? Heavens, no, Your Highness. Please, allow me.”

He bends down and kicks open his saddlebags.

Inside are three peach-sized orbs of what looks like pure gold. The crowd gasps at the flagrant, almost insulting display of casual wealth: who tosses gold on the floor?

Cadance growls. “Why did you claim these would keep the snow at bay?”

“Did I? Apologies, Your Highness. A slip of the tongue. I wouldn’t bring live geodes into your castle. Of course not. I know better.”

Wing is smart. He has to be, simply by virtue of his existence. Cadance can’t continue this verbal sparring or she’s going to make a mistake in front of all these ponies, and knowing Wing, he’ll push his advantage until he’s mounting her in the middle of the lobby while he negotiates on behalf of his lord.

But alone? She can say whatever the fuck she wants. She grabs a passing page by his sash and points at the summit hall. “Is that occupied?”

The page shrinks under her stare. “No, Y-Your Highness, but in a few minutes —”

She grabs the tribute gold and dumps it unceremoniously on the poor Page, marches up to Ambassador Wing, and growls, “Follow me.”

“Close the door.”

Ambassador Wing kicks the door shut. “Our summit starts soon, Your Highness. What was so important that it couldn’t wait? Come to complain about a few misadventuring frost Dragons flying over the edge of your kingdom and scaring your poor farmers? Did a pony forget his oven mitts while handling a geode?” He steps forward and smiles. “Or did you just miss the pleasure of my company?”

Cadance tries not to growl. They have privacy. She has his full attention. There’s nopony that will interrupt them. This is it; she just has to say her piece and leave. He has to listen to her: she’s a Princess, for Celestia’s sake! Then she can return to Chrysalis, have this disguise removed, and pretend nothing ever happened.

She sets her face.

“I will not tolerate any more of your insulting, childish behavior during this summit. You will treat me and my citizens with respect.”

Ambassador Wing stares back, chewing over her words for a moment. “Is that so?” Is that it?

She tries again. “Last year was more than enough. Treat me or my husband like that again and I will bury you in friendship and harmony.”

“Treat you like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “My Dragon neighbors are a violent bunch, and friendly head injuries are quite common. Remind me. I wouldn’t want to learn the wrong lesson, you see.”

Of course he wouldn’t know what she’s talking about. Probably he does the same thing to every mare and stallion he deals with. “You were insulting and childish.”

“You said that part already.”

“You threatened my kingdom with violence.”

“Please. That’s basically flirting.”

“You groped me and tried to fuck me!”

“That’s definitely flirting. Spit it out, Your Highness.”

“You called me a whore!” she spits.

“You are a whore!” he growls, pushing right into her personal space. Chest against chest. He’s not quite as tall as she is but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Your only authority comes from poor, simpering stallions and lonely, jealous mares. Wings and a horn do not grant a creature authority. Actions do. You could be so much more than you are. Your peers marshal the sun and hurl the moon. What do you do?”

Cadance doesn’t flinch, just presses back. From this close she can smell the spice on his breath. Living among Dragons has changed him, and Cadance can feel her body reacting to the presence of a strong, formidable male. “I am the Princess of Love and—”

Wing laughs. “You’re the Princess of lying down and spreading your legs and letting your citizens have their way with you. You’re the Princess of using your body to get your way.” He shoves her backwards. “Why shouldn’t I use your body too?”

Cadance steps to the side and sneers. “It’s a wonder you Dragons don’t wipe yourselves out with all the antagonism.”

“You’d be surprised how much gets accomplished among Dragons. Sex, violence, domination—Dragon bureaucracy is so much more productive.”

“It’s violent.”

“It’s effective.”

“It’s barbaric!”

“It’s wonderful,” Crimson Wing breathes. The two circle one another, like wrestlers trying to find an angle on their opponents. “Living among Dragonkind is a breath of fresh air. You should come and visit us, sometime, Your Highness. Your effortless beauty and biting wit would have those mindless Dragons simpering at your hooves. That’s real power.”

What a loser. He acts like he’s a predator at the top of a crowded food chain. “Not here it’s not. If you want to do business with the good Ponies of the Crystal Kingdom—or anywhere else in Equestria—then act like one.”

“Act like a good pony? Pass.”

“Then tell Dragonlord Ember that your behavior and attitudes are harming her ability to trade with us—not to mention your implied threats against our ponies near the wasteland borders—”

“Please. I could not care less whether your little crystal oasis survives the dead of winter or not. Dragonlord Ember certainly doesn’t care. We’re drowning in geodes. You have nothing to offer me but the pleasure of your company. If you don’t feel like indulging me, then I’ll just find another Princess to fuck.”

It’s one thing to know it’s on his mind. For him to just say so, out loud—

Well, she did say they could say whatever they wanted in private. And she already knows he wants to fuck the real Cadance. But she’s beginning to realize there are lines that cannot be uncrossed during a conversation, and Ambassador Wing has just pulled them both across one. He wants to fuck her. Not just grope her, or molest her, or insult her. He wants her bent forward, over one of these tables, her legs spread while he shoves his cock so far inside her that—

He keeps talking, ignorant of her turmoil. “I don’t think I’d have much luck with Equestria’s royal Diarchs. Far too antagonistic, just like you. But one of Equestria’s lovely Princesses likes making friends, right? I like making friends too.”

Cadance scowls. “Threatening my kingdom is one thing. I won’t suffer you threatening Princess Twilight.”

Wing tilts his head. “Princess Twilight . . . Oh! Right. I forgot. The Princess of Friendship. Ha! That loser? No, I meant the other Princess. Your daughter.”

Another line. Her heart races. Immediately images of Ambassador Wing atop her wife are replaced with images of Ambassador Wing atop her daughter, and Cadance has recent, vivid experience with Flurry in those positions. Her legs spread wide. A layer of sweat matting her brilliant, glowing coat. The little whimpers and barks of pleasure. A crowd of horny Dragon males, eager for their turn. And Flurry is at her most vulnerable right now, overwhelmed but curious. Wing would devour her. He would break her, turn her into his personal filly whore, then whore her out to others.

Blood pounds through her head.

Wing shrugs. “The young Princess is so friendly. She was all smiles today. So eager to help. And—well, maybe I shouldn’t say these things to her mother,” he says with a smirk, “but she smelled wonderful today. They grow up so fast.”

Cadance ignites her horn and faces him. If he’s not careful, she’ll be the one to cross the next line, and there aren’t too many left after violence. “If you so much as laid a hoof on her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Have me thrown in a dungeon? But then I’d discover just who else is being kept in there. You wouldn’t want the rest of Equestria to learn that your husband is keeping the Queen of the Changelings imprisoned for his own entertainment—”

Cadance howls and hurls a spell in his direction.

Wing dodges to the side, letting a pile of documents take the bolt and detonate into a storm of shredded paper and pink sparkles. He plants his forehoof, turning his sideways motion into a spin. Before Cadance can react he swings his hind hoof out and kicks her in the gut. Cadance stumbles, trying to aim another spell, this time blasting a hole in the wall. He leaps at her, hooves outstretched, snarling. Cadance ducks and slams her shoulder into his side, sending him flying ass-over-head into the table, then whirls around to face him, wings flared and horn blazing.

Wing scrambles to all fours, wipes blood from his lip, and smiles. “Don’t worry! I didn’t touch her. I wouldn’t dare. She’s beautiful, no argument, and I don’t doubt she’d be an eager, obedient pupil—but she’s nothing compared to you, Your Highness.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“You can try!” Wing cackles, running at her.

Cadance fires another spell, this time at his legs. Wing leaps over the bolt, his natural Pegasus magic granting him shocking reflexes and aerial speed. He barrels into her and the two go tumbling back in a flurry of red and pink feathers until they crash into the side of a table.

Cadance blinks away the daze from her eyes and tries to twist free.

Wing stomps a hoof down onto her back, pressing her bodily into the floor and holding her in place.

“Is this all you can manage?” Wing grunts. “Aren’t you an immortal Alicorn? Pathetic. I was expecting a little more fight from you. Maybe that’s my mistake. You are only the Princess of Love. Maybe your daughter will grow up to be the Princess of Roughhousing. I prefer when they fight back.”

His weight is surprising. He’s an especial Pegasus, after all. How is he crushing her? “Get off!”

“I intend to.”

At point-blank range, casting a spell now could kill him. She prepares another bolt of magic anyway.

Wing swallows her horn.

Fuck. Fuck! The wind leaves Cadance in a rush, while her horn fizzles out. His lips squeeze around her sensitive ivory, wrapping tight. Hot and wet. Sloppy. Filling each and every groove in saliva. How can a mouth so completely immobilize her?

He pulls back and smacks his lips. Hums for a moment. Just when Cadance is starting to think she could dislodge him he returns to fellating her horn, and she’s stuck again, whimpering and panting under the weight of his skilled tongue. It’s like Wing is sucking Shining’s cock, although she can’t grab his head like this, and fucking his throat means goring him to death. Does he suck the real Cadance’s horn like this? Does he suck other horns, too? He almost seems content to just lay atop her and suckle for a while.

But after a few moments he chuckles. “I knew it. I knew it! I knew there was something off about you,” he laughs, licking up the side of her horn, dodging the ineffective sparks she can manage while her horn pulses with sensation. “Your magic is different today. Why isn’t it blue?”

Another lick. Cadance groans. “You must not be paying close attention, Wing.”

“Let’s see. Either you somehow managed to change the hue of what I’m told is essentially the fundamental spirit of any Unicorn—”

Fuck. He knows. “An Alicorn’s magic doesn’t change, Wing. Even you should know that.”

“—or you’ve been spending time in your own dungeon with your own prisoner, Prince Armor.”

“You thought I was Cadance?” Cadance bluffs. “You can’t even tell the difference between the two of us?”

“I know your wife well enough. You’re a lousy impersonator. She isn’t nearly so eager to resort to violence. She compromises, communicates, and diplomacies like a good little ruler. She doesn’t bully like the Captain of the Guard does.” Another lick. “She and I much prefer to settle our differences with our bodies. The other delegates, too.”

“Liar.”

“Last year your little winter wonderland got free geodes from the Dragonlands, a better split from Cloudsdale’s satellite weather office, and increased rail service from your national rail line. All without an increase in taxes or obligations. Do you really think your Princess doesn’t use every advantage she has when she negotiates? Really. She must be using magic: you would be swimming in children otherwise.”

“Liar!” Cadance throws her head back, trying recklessly to stab him in the face.

He dodges to the side, reaches a hoof around her neck, and pulls back, threatening to block her air. To choke her.

She struggles, thrashing her wings and kicking her hind legs.

“Stop fighting!” he growls.

Cadance goes limp to keep him from injuring her. Biding her time.

He smiles. “Good. Let’s talk. If you still want to hurt me, then we can try again. But here’s the new deal, Prince. Official and direct from Dragonlord Ember herself. She doesn’t want your jewelry or your crystals or your crops. She wants your obedience and your loyalty. A token gesture in good faith that your wife will work towards the combined prosperity blah blah blah, diplomacy, etc. It’s a wonderful offer. You don’t have to deliver anything, or give up any territory, or inconvenience even a single one of your subjects. You get all the geodes your tiny little kingdom could ever want, for as long as you like. All Princess Cadance has to do is submit to Dragonlord Ember.”

“Not happening.”

“Well, first of all, it’s not up to you. I’m going to find your wife after this and see if we can steer this summit back on course. She’s a much more constructive negotiator than you are, Prince Armor. Second of all, it’s a meaningless, inexpensive show of diplomacy—the best kind, in my opinion. Bring your lovely family for regular visits—say, once a month—as the Dragonlord’s personal guests; say a few words about friendship and magic; then relax in our personal care while she and I treat you like royalty.”

“You want me to deliver my wife and my daughter on a platter for you to fuck.”

“Must it always come back to sex with you ponies? I mean, yes. I do very much. And so does Dragonlord Ember. All three of you are tasty morsels, actually. But I fail to see the downside. Your wife is a whore anyways. Your daughter needs a strong, dedicated guide to help her explore her burgeoning, submissive sexuality. And Dragonlord Ember desires an heir—”

“So I’ve heard. I thought Dragon males were supposed to be virile beasts.”

“—with you.”

“What?!”

“Oh, I’m as shocked as you are. She wants her heir to have Unicorn magic, and she assumes you must be a virile beast yourself. You married the Princess of Love, after all. Of course, I know better. Your wife drops her chest and spreads her legs at the slightest excuse. How much of a male can you really be?”

Cadance laughs. “More than you, apparently. How demeaning that must be. Dragonlord Ember, the pinnacle of female sexuality and power for all Dragons, sending you to arrange her booty calls.”

The room is silent, aside from their heavy breathing.

Wing narrows his eyes. “And third of all, consider the alternative. Would you let this little oasis freeze to death because of your pride?”

“I would bring this little oasis to war before I let you near my family.”

“Well. It’s a good thing it’s not up to you, Prince,” he growls, yanking her mane back.

“Ah!” Cadance hisses, crouching low to keep him from bending her neck painfully. She twists from side to side, trying to free herself.

“Pathetic,” Wing mutters. His wings flare wide, reaching into her field of vision, straining with his arousal. “You really are a shadow of your wife. Just another weak pony.”

His wings!

“You forget, Wing—you’re a pony, too, not a Dragon. Which means these are far more sensitive than you’d think.”

She cranes her neck, reaches for his wing, and bites.

Wing shrieks, leaping off of her.

Cadance is quick to her hooves, sneering at the poor Pegasus who doesn’t normally let ponies touch his wings.

“You’re the pathetic one,” she hisses. “You’re so fixated on being a big brutish dragon that you’ve completely neglected your heritage. It’s no surprise Ember cucks you so bad.”

Ambassador Wing’s face twists with anger. “Says the Princess who can barely keep her legs together.”

“Yeah. You found me when I’m vulnerable. I’m stuck in a body that’s full of hormones and desperate to fuck. I’m sure it won’t be long now. But you didn’t seduce me. You didn’t achieve anything. This body isn’t real. Your fight is pointless. And later tonight you’re gonna dwell on the fact that you still haven’t fucked a Princess. Just an impos—”

“Get down.”

Cadance’s chest slaps to the floor. She whimpers, feeling the violence in his voice, and clamps her tail between her legs. The room feels colder, tighter.

“Ass up.”

She lifts her ass, flicking her tail back out of the way. Exposing herself to him. He feels larger, like he’s filling the whole room, overwhelming her. His gaze is heavy, his breathing ragged. She knows he’s savoring his victory.

“I’m going to fuck you, Prince. Then you’re going to take me to your daughter, and you’ll help me fuck her too.”

Cadance groans, arching her back. It’s obscene and offensive, just the thought that she would help this monster defile her little filly. But Flurry would do it, especially if Cadance is there, holding her hoof while Wing presses his cock between her legs and up against her pussy.

Cadance’s legs quiver. She feels drops of her own arousal sliding down her inner thigh, hears them pattering on the crystal floor.

Wing grabs her ass and gropes her, mauling her flesh with both forehooves. Spreading her cheeks wide. He leans close and inhales—“I can smell the spice on your cunt. Did you enjoy my whores?”

“I didn’t—”

“Tell me you liked it.”

Cadance gasps. “Yes—your whores are impressive! You must be so fucking proud of what you did to them.”

Wing leans close and licks her ass, from one cheek right across her cunt to the other, and starts rubbing his face over her rump. He licks her slit, her tailhole, even her cutie marks. He worships her rear end, even while he insults and attacks her face. Cadance groans, thrusting her ass back at him. He reaches his hoof around her thigh and rubs at her pussy, feeling how desperately wet she is, how hot and flushed and eager she is. There’s only one outcome now. There was only one from the moment she locked him inside.

Wing leans forward, putting his weight on her back, and presses his cock against her rump. It would be one thing if the rude, arrogant Ambassador had a mediocre cock, but it’s thick, and hard, and drooling enough precum to lubricate them both even if Cadance wasn’t already swamped. She feels her heart race, feels the weight of their little dance leading up to this moment. He’s going to fuck her, and no matter how she feels about him—it’s gonna be fucking awesome.

He grabs her around the waist, settles his chest atop her back, and pokes his cock between her pussy lips. It’s huge, blunt, and threatening. Cadance can’t catch her breath. She’s been on the receiving end of a lot of sex today, some consensual and some less-than, but this pony has a way past her defenses, no doubt. His body completely surrounds her, removing the outside world and isolating the two of them.

It occurs to her that her borrowed body is completely at the whim of Queen Chrysalis’s twisted desires. Cadance only needed to look the part. How thoroughly did she design this body’s vagina? Is she tight? Shallow? Is she in for a fun time or not? Because—Fuck!—if he’s gonna fuck her, Cadance really hopes it’s more enjoyable than not. And he’s definitely going to fuck her.

Why isn’t he fucking her?

“Argh! What are you waiting for?!” she groans, angling her hips like the easy-to-use slot machine that she is.

“For you to beg for it.” He grinds his cock against her, snorts in her ear. “We’re all alone. I won’t tell anypony. Your wife will never know. I just need to hear the magic word.”

“But—”

“Beg me to fuck you.”

Cadance cries out. “Fuck. Please! Just—just do it! Just—”

His cock splits Cadance wide open. Cadance throws her head back and comes with a keening wail, nearly spearing him in the neck with her horn. Her body twitches and shakes while he draws out her explosion, preventing her from catching her breath. She can feel each and every one of his piercings slipping and pulling against her insides, and his cock is so hot!

“Yes!” he yells. “Oh, fuck. Your cunt is amazing, Prince. Fu-hu-huck. How long do you get to stay like this? It would be incredible if you got stuck in this body somehow. Think about it. You and I could fuck whenever we want, while your wife gets to stay all pure and chaste. Mmm, or maybe she joins us. Does she know you’re in her body? Probably. You’re far too noble and righteous to invade her body’s likeness without her consent.” He laughs. “Or maybe not? Ha! I wonder what she’d think if she barged in on us right now. She has unlocking authority, right? No orders to her guards or spells on her door could keep her out. She’ll stroll in, ready for our meeting, and bam! Her doppleganger getting fucked like the whore she is, right in front of her.”

Cadance moans.

Each of Wing’s thrusts knocks the wind out of her. He uses his whole body, quickly and without trying to move with her, pulling her down onto his cock when he slams his hips against her ass. Her tail bends and catches between her dock and his abdomen, flicking erratically to the side, while her wings flare with each motion, desperately trying to keep her balanced. She inches forward on her chest, bit by bit with each move, sliding across the floor in loud screeches. A splatter of juice follows each thrust.

Cadance’s eyes roll, and she struggles to focus on something. The room is full of tables, chairs of all sizes, papers and scrolls and books—all the evidence of ponies trying to mask their base animal instincts with professionalism, with cooperation, and with dignity. And here she is, the Princess of Love, the Princess of laying down and opening her legs, throwing it all away.

Fuck. She’s going to come. She’s barely over her first orgasm on Wing’s wonderful cock and another is threatening her. At least if he was mediocre at sex she could keep her dignity, but literally everything about this pony makes Cadance feel emasculated. And he’s not even winded. How long can he keep this up? How long can she keep this up?

She looks over her shoulder at him, twisting around underneath him. Her mouth hangs open, drooling on the floor. Inviting.

He smiles and leans in, kissing her.

Fuck, he does taste spicy. She presses her tongue in between his lips, tasting his tongue, his teeth. Tonguing his gums. He twists his head to the side, grabs her head, and pulls her close, still humping away. The angle makes it awkward, but he winds up hitting all sorts of places inside her, and after a few struggling moments he reaches for her hindleg and lifts it up and out of the way, scissors his abdomen against hers, and—

Magic courses through her body.

Is this what it’s like when Shining kisses his wife? When he fucks her?

It’s so . . . satisfying.

She breaks the kiss, gasping for breath. “Gonna . . . gonna come,” she pants.

“Come for me, Princess.”

“Gonna—”

“Come!”

Her orgasm rips through her, jerking her head back. Nearly goring Wing with her horn. Almost kicking him out of the way.

He roars like a dragon and thrusts himself inside her and comes. Semen bursts inside her, hot and thick, so much so fast she feels full to bursting in moments. His thrusts ram all that spunk back outside, splattering between their crotches and down their thighs, even as he shoots another heavy rope of spicy, sizzling cum inside her.

“Fuck!” she cries out, under the barrage of their combined orgasm.

Wing captures her mouth with his and kisses her again, while he squeezes her tight and holds himself in as deep as he can, flooding her womb with enough potent, virile cum to knock up a dragoness.

There’s no way Dragonlord Ember needs Shining to give her an heir. This fucking stallion should have no problem.

Wing lets her go. Cadance collapses to the floor and curls into a trembling, wheezing ball. A thick, hot creampie flows down her ass and in her tail. The aftershocks of a terrific orgasm rattle her.

He’s saying something.

“Whuh?” she mumbles.

He grabs her by the horn and yanks her around until her face is level with his cock. “Clean me up.”

He barely has to say it. Cadance opens her mouth and swallows his cock, feels his array of piercings bulging and pushing at her tongue. His semen is spicy, still oozing out. Must be something in his diet. He grunts and shoves his hips against her muzzle, filling her mouth and slipping down her throat. It’s easier than she thought it would be. Easy just to open her jaw and let him hump and wonder idly if he’s going to come again, and whether he’ll let her swallow his semen or if he’ll pull out and blast it all over her face instead.

He sighs, then steps back. Of course. He’s saving up for later.

She whimpers, glancing up before looking away. Unable to keep eye contact with him. How has he done this? She’s Shining Armor. The Captain of the royal family’s personal Guard. Prince-consort of the Crystal Empire. Coveted by a Dragonlord. Champion of the weak, the forgotten, and the lost. Devoted husband. Loving father.

And this stallion has brought her to her knees, robbed her of her dignity, and fucked her damned near unconscious. She’s still trembling from the feel of his piercings ribbing up and down her pussy.

Today is not her day.

“You’d best make yourself presentable,” Crimson Wing says, turning around. His cock bobs beneath his stomach, leaving a trail of sizzling cum behind him. “The opening ceremonies start in a few minutes. Unlock the door, please, Your Highness. I have a Princess or two to dominate.”

Cadance sizzles her pink magic and opens the door.

Dimly, through the ringing in her ears, Cadance can hear ponies gasp in his wake. She grabs the door in her magic and slams it shut behind him, sizzling it locked before anypony thinks to investigate whom he has just fucked into the table. And just in time, too—she hears the door rattle, hears muffled ponies calling for her, then calling for help. A mare starts hollering and barking orders. At least somepony is taking care of things.

A few minutes pass while Cadance tries to figure out what to do, but eventually she gives up. Goldenrod and Shining’s best will keep Wing away from her family. She’s alone for now, and for the first time all day, it’s quiet. Cadance decides that resting for a little bit might be a good idea.

The door sizzles again. Somepony with unlocking authority has finally decided to investigate. Cadance slumps in place, stares at the floor, and wonders who will find her here like this, burning with shame, streaked in cum, and surrounded by messy piles of papers and documents. Wonders who’s going to fuck her next. One of Shining’s Guards? Goldenrod? Another delegate—or even Queen Chrysalis, somehow?

“Well, well. Whom do we have here?”

Cadance whips her head up.

“What—” she breathes, feeling the floor pitch to the side beneath her. The one stallion that shouldn’t find her like this—that absolutely cannot even be here in the first place—stands over her, tapping a single hoof.

“Get up,” Shining Armor orders.

Queen Chrysalis did escape, and chose the one disguise that wouldn’t risk being seen beside the original.

In a panic, Cadance scrambles onto all fours, slipping on the sticky floor. Her useless wings flap helplessly, throwing her off balance, and she stumbles right back onto her ass.

Shining armor clicks his tongue. “Pathetic.” His horn ignites, and magic surrounds Cadance, holding her still.

“Who let you out?” Cadance demands, struggling against magic that is way stronger than hers at the moment. Her heart races. She gave her key to one of the Guards, but at the moment she can’t recall which one—

Oh, fuck.

Chrysalis wasn’t guessing. She already knew there was a changeling imposter in his ranks. “Which one?!”

Shining ignores her. “Oh, Princess. Poor, poor Princess. What happened? Everypony’s talking about it. Did the big bad diplomat say mean things to you?”

Cadance shakes her head. It doesn’t matter who released Chrysalis. She has to escape and recapture Chrysalis in Shining’s body before even thinking of identifying the infiltrator.

But Shining’s magic holds her tight.

“Did he make you do things?” He leans close. “Humiliating, sexual things? Did he fuck you?” He spins her around and lifts her tail out of the way. “Oh, wow. He did. Wow. You’re a fucking mess back here. I’d say he must’ve given you too much love, but we both know he has no love for you. Only cum. Do you suppose it’s something in his diet? Or was Ambassador Wing not the only stallion you’ve had back here today?”

Cadance ducks her head in shame.

The imposter Shining ducks his head behind her and sniffs between her legs. “Woof. I smell you, too. You enjoyed him. At least, part of you did. What will you do when everypony else finds out, hmm?”

Before Cadance can protest, Shining Armor spears his tongue between her buttocks and licks at the creampie draining from her pussy.

“Ah!” she cries out.

“So spicy,” Shining mutters. “Definitely something in his diet. He’s a disgusting monster, but he tastes wonderful.”

Cadance’s horn flares, trying to pull herself free from his teekay, but every swipe of his tongue distracts her. Why is she so weak today, so fucking susceptible to tongues?

“Mmm . . . I know what that body likes.”

“I don’t . . . ”

“You lying slut. You loved what Wing did to you, and everypony else that’s been back here. How many is that, by the way?”

“No,” she whines. “You . . . this is your fault. You did something—”

Shining grabs her ass, spreads her cheeks apart, and spears his tongue inside her pussy.

Cadance yowls as her pussy clenches and winks desperately.

“You’re right,” Shining finally admits. “This really is all my fault, isn’t it?”

She spins him around so they’re face to face.

“I told you not to do anything. I told you to stop worrying about Wing and the other delegates. I practically taunted you into action.”

“What?” Cadance breathes, not understanding.

“I’m sorry,” Shining mutters, leaning close to lick a slow, slobbery streak up her face. He covers her cheek, eye, and forehead in spit before kissing her horn. Cadance winces as he drools on her face. It’s something about this body. Some remnant of the Changeling magic that turned Shining into Cadance, or an intentional side effect; Chrysalis wouldn’t be above such deception. But it’s so hard to focus on the threat to her life, her family, and her kingdom when her body is screaming—screaming!—for this stallion to quit teasing her, to mount her, to impregnate her, never mind that another stallion’s semen is still draining down her thighs. She ought to be fighting back. She ought to be securing her family. She ought to be calling a code green. But instead—

Cadance freezes. She didn’t notice at first. How could she be so stupid? Fuck!

Not green. Blue.

Chrysalis’s magic was always green, no matter her disguise.

“ . . . Cadance?” Cadance guesses.

Shining Armor smiles. “In the flesh, so to speak. A gift from our mutual friend.”

“Fuck,” she croaks.

Somehow this is worse.

“So, my lovely wife-husband.” Shining gestures at the mess. “This was your brilliant plan? We could’ve run into one another. What if somepony saw us both? Shouldn’t you have locked me up first, at least? It’s what Chrissy did, when she pulled this stunt. We literally have crystal caves under the castle you could’ve used. And did you think nopony would say anything to me afterwards? I’m not an idiot, Shining. When ponies ask me about things I haven’t done, I get suspicious. Nevermind when my whole schedule starts getting rearranged at my own request.”

“Who was it?” Cadance asks.

“Flurry,” Shining says. He leans close, nose to nose, and narrows her eyes. “Imagine how surprised I was when she gave me a big hug and thanked me profusely for helping her out just a while ago.”

“Uh—”

“And for going down on her. Normally I just cuddle her while she uses her cooler. You know, like any normal mom? Oh, Shiny. If I’d known you wanted to fuck our little baby girl, I’d’ve given you cooler duty long ago. Heh. Well. Next time she comes to me, I’m sending her your way.”

“UH—”

He waves at his body. “When I found out, I went downstairs to get my own explanation, and we decided to play this little game for you. I thought I would catch you, and tease you a little. Maybe squeeze the truth out of you. Of course, that was before I saw Wing strutting out with his cock drooling on the floor.”

Cadance ducks her head.

“Whom else did you interact with?” Shining asks, stalking around her floating body.

“Besides Flurry and Ambassador Wing?” Cadance gulps. “Um . . . Wing’s escorts—”

“Fuck.”

“—and, um. Chrysalis.”

Shining stares at her. “You fucked Chrysalis?!”

Cadance hangs her head. “She needed love to fuel the disguise magic.”

“Love, Shining. Her Changeling magic needs love. You’re supposed to cuddle her, and hug her, and tell her everything’s going to be alright. Not fuck her! Damn it!”

She shrugs. “She didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“You could’ve said no!”

Cadance’s lip curls. She snarls, “No, I couldn’t! You left me with no other option! It was either do this or wait for one of my fucking Guards—all of whom I trust and respect, by the way—to come and tell me all about how he got to watch some worthless diplomat fuck you. Last year was awful. It broke my heart, hearing all that from ponies that clearly enjoyed watching. For months when we walked through the Castle I knew—I just knew—that they were remembering that one moment. Wondering how easy it would be for one of them to get away with it too. Maybe even seduce you. More than once I heard ponies that I had respected calling you filthy fucking names.”

“Shiny, ponies have been eye-banging me since before I hit puberty. Everypony wonders how easy it would be to fuck me. Ponies always assume I’m a slut, or a whore, or even an evil succubus demon. Wherever I go, ponies grab my flanks or stroke my wings or lick my neck. They literally cannot help it. Who fucking cares if ponies only bow in my presence because they want to look between my legs, or if they’ll only follow my lead to stare at my ass?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that ponies are treating you like that?” Cadance asks. “I could’ve helped. At least with Wing—”

“No, you couldn’t’ve! Chrysalis didn’t do anything to your mind. Him fucking you was the only outcome. His domination aura is so—”

“His what?”

Shining sighs. “Fuck. Okay. Look. Wing has an aura too. We don’t know why. Goldenrod thinks his mother was impregnated by a very powerful, magic-wielding drake. It’s subtle. It takes time. And it’s not like he can control your mind. But ponies bend to his will if he works them enough and they aren’t used to it. I am used to it. You are not. If I’d let you two in the same room there’s no telling what he would’ve done to you. And if you and I worked together, the end result would be both of us humiliated. Shiny, it’s not your fault. But your integrity is your weakness to ponies like him . . . he would have fucked you.” He snorts. “He did fuck you.”

“I don’t care. I could’ve helped! I could have protected you and your reputation. We’re supposed to talk to each other, Cadey. We’re supposed to trust each other!”

“Trust?” Shining slams his hoof down onto the table with a bang. “Then what is this?” he hollers. “What are these?!” He reaches for her wings and pulls.

Cadance cries out.

“You like that? Ha! She got everything right. She’s a master of the little details. That means you probably like it right here, too.”

Floating her right at hoof level, just above the floor, Shining trails his hoof down her wing to the joint right at her shoulder blade. It twinges, like a raw nerve, and Cadance can’t clamp her hoof over her mouth quickly enough to prevent the embarrassing bark of pleasure that spills out.

“What a whore,” Shining breathes, then does it again. And again.

Just that simple motion, with a slight pressure, starts turning Cadance’s brain to mush. It almost hurts, but after only a few short moments she starts drooling, from her mouth and then from her pussy. Shining stomps a hoof on her rump to keep her from squirming. She can’t help it. Her body twitches and jerks, like that one joint has marionette strings connected all over her body. The hoof holding in her voice slumps to the side. She can hear her own whimpers echoing through the room. Wonderful acoustics in here. She feels like she’s surrounded by a dozen other Cadances, all reduced to their most basic, shameful needs.

“Poor Princess,” Shining mutters. “You poor thing. Imagine if somepony came in right now. Maybe one of the staff. You think you’d be able to protect our reputation in this state?”

Cadance hangs her head. No, she’s not presentable. She’s dripping with arousal and desperation. She can barely stand. Her body is screaming for her to open her legs and let him in. And she can just imagine the other delegates seeing her like this. Looking at her shameful behavior and shaking their heads. Thinking, this is the royalty we have to deal with? These are ponies we’re supposed to respect?

“No, I couldn’t. We can’t—”

Shining breathes over her horn, hot and humid. Cadance tenses, but Shining moves to the side, licking at her ear. The threat is clear: Cadance had better stop arguing, because Shining can shut her up at any moment.

“Poor wife-husband. I know you meant well. I know you just want what’s best. And I should’ve told you. But I’ve been doing this for years now. I know how to handle Wing, and the other delegates, and all the other ponies that grope me, and lick me, and tease me. You’re a wonderful husband. And I love you for it. You’re just not a Princess.”

“I know,” Cadance mutters.

Shining nuzzles her neck. “Did you really think I was sleeping around with Wing and the others for a bunch of rocks?”

“No!” Cadance exclaims. “I never did. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Then what—”

“I thought they were hurting you. Or using you. And that you thought you wouldn’t have a choice. I thought that you would suffer their appalling behavior in silence, so that our subjects can have better lives. I thought you would be too polite and accommodating towards ponies who don’t deserve you. And I thought—”

“Go on.”

“I thought you didn’t dislike it as much as you should.”

“You mean you thought I liked it. That I enjoyed it. Tell me. Did you enjoy them toying with you?”

Cadance nods once.

“I see.” Shining exhales.

“I didn’t mean to!” Cadance exclaims, stretching to look over her shoulder at him, desperate for him to believe her. “I really do think Chrysalis did something to this body. It’s—”

“You know, I’ve always wanted to have an affair with one of our staff. How deliciously hot would that be?”

“—Huh?”

“Since we’re being honest.” Shining smiles, leans in close. He’s blushing. “Some secret, burning romance with a chambermaid or two—or the Princess caught being dominated by her depraved, perverted Steward. Normally, that would be too risky. It’s one of the few disadvantages of royalty. And I’d never do so behind your back. But now? In this body? With my darling wife-husband basically giving me permission? Oh! And I know for a fact there’s a pretty little tart in the kitchens who’d lift her tail in a heartbeat for the big, strong Shining Armor. She wants to be a Princess someday, like most fillies her age, and she fantasizes about being pressed face-first into her lord’s bed and bred senseless for hours and hours—like most fillies her age, I suspect. She’s re-he-heally young, even younger than Flurry, and we’d have to make sure her parents don’t find out, but that just makes it hotter and, well, love really is blind sometimes.”

Cadance whimpers, trying to remember who works in the kitchens. “R-really?”

“Shining Armor, you are a Celestiadamned moron. Plenty of fillies want you to fuck them. Or, I guess—” Shining gestures at his brand new body “—want me to fuck them. I gave Chrysalis lots of love earlier. I bet I’ll be you for a long time. Oh! I know. How about the two of us go down to the kitchen right now and find sweet little miss jailbait tart? I’ll let you hold her still so I can put a foal or two inside her while I teach her how to make love.”

Cadance shudders.

“Ohh, wow. That did it, huh? I could taste that. My magic still works while I’m in this body. I bet I could seduce anypony I please. I do have a lot of attractive pages working here. Wing’s whores look very, very well chosen. And Flurry wouldn’t say no to another cooling off. She’s got it bad and the one male authority figure in her life keeps denying her what she needs—”

Cadance scoffs. “I’m not denying her what she needs. I’m telling the staff and the guards to keep their hooves off of her.”

“—but do you know whom I want to fuck the most? Right now?”

Cadance shakes her head.

“You.”

Shining lifts Cadance onto the table, shoving a pile of documents to the floor in a storm of paper and ink to make way.

“I want to fuck you. I want to feel what it’s like as a stallion. I want to know what I feel like. And there’s this secret bit inside me—since we’re being honest and all—that wants to make you scream in pleasure. A bit of me that wants to see how hard you can come from being fucked like a whore before you pass out. I want to know what the great and honorable Shining Armor looks like when he’s a bitch.”

Cadance gasps, feeling her heart race and her sodden, spunk-filled pussy clench. Her husband-wife has completely lost it, succumbing to the arousal that’s filling the room.

It must be Chrysalis’s fault.

“But—somepony will see us,” she pleads, looking around the room. The summit hall is empty for now, but Shining didn’t lock the door behind him and staff come and go all the time, getting ready for meetings or collecting documents for their retinue.

“So? They’ll see a husband fucking his wife. Nothing wrong about that,” Shining says, stepping his forehooves on either side of Cadance’s hips.

Cadance shudders and hikes her tail up into the air. She can’t help it.

“You’re so wet,” Shining breathes, as his cock pokes between her legs. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

Cadance nods. Celestia, she really is. In this unfamiliar body, under the onslaught of Shining’s and the real Cadance’s combined authority—and under his stomach—Cadance can’t help but feel her arousal spiral out of control. She has no idea how Cadance holds it together normally. Why she isn’t a walking, talking cock cozy for the ponies she constantly deals with, especially when everypony she deals with is constantly trying to fuck her. “But your reputation—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Shining growls, pressing his cock between her legs. It’s hot and hard. Cadance tries not to yowl like a cat in heat. Shining angles his hips and prods his cock against her slit, finally notching into place. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t give two fucks about my reputation. It’s time ponies learned the truth. I’m the Princess of Love, dear. Let them see me get fucked.”

Cadance opens her mouth to speak, just as Shining drives his hips forward, skewering her in one, and all that comes out is a gasp. Fuck. She’s pretty sure her cock isn’t usually this . . . bludgeoning.

Shining stops with his hips crushing her dock. “Fu-hu-huck. Chryssi did a good job with our bits, didn’t she? I’ll have to go and thank her after this. Though part of me just wants to stay here all day long. How are you doing, dear?”

All Cadance manages is a wheeze.

Shining pulls his hips back, and Cadance feels his cock head scrape at her insides. When he thrusts again he shoves her forward, and when he pulls back he yanks her back. His motions are rough, like those of a young colt losing his virginity. But as he thrusts, her body reacts, and accommodates, and begins to thrust back. With Sugar and Spice it was a messy, rushed tangle of limbs, an awkward rhythm. With Ambassador Wing, it was his limbs, his body, his rhythm, his fuck.

With Shining Armor—with her love—they just fit together so well. Their bodies mold together like they were separated with a single cut from a single source, their rhythms building off of one another. Her husband-wife claims he wants to dominate Cadance but this—this is something more.

“Is it—is it like this when you fuck me?” Shining asks, panting. Losing control. Overwhelmed. “It’s so . . . ”

“ . . . connected,” Cadance breathes.

“Yeah.” Shining kisses the back of her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cadance says.

“And I love having a cock!” he yells.

Despite everything, Cadance barks out a laugh. How many ponies heard Prince Shining Armor say that? “Yeah . . . it’s pretty great.”

“I—I think I’m close,” Shining says, not stopping his motions. If he were better at sex as a stallion, he’d slow down or pace himself. But now he just sounds alarmed. “I think I’m gonna come!”

Cadance moans. “Do it. Come for me.” She knows what that body wants to hear. “Fill me up, honey. Drown me in your cum.” Knowing what that body wants to feel, too, she clenches her core and squeezes her thighs together and grinds her rump across his abdomen. Her tail, currently pressed up against his stomach, twitches and slides over him. She spreads her hooves slightly, angling her hips. Immediately he groans and starts hitting different parts inside her, shallower and faster.

“Fuck. Coming—Coming!” Shining yells, loud enough that ponies can probably hear him outside, magically sealed doors or otherwise. “I’m coming!”

And Cadance can feel it. His cock surges inside her, swelling and pulling at her insides with each thrust. A sudden gush of warmth fills her pussy and spreads through her whole body, overwhelming even the sharp, rapid slaps of flesh and the sudden yank on her mane. “Yes,” she moans. “Fill me. Breed me . . . ”

Shining keeps thrusting, spilling more and more spunk deep inside her. It’s hot, thick, and sticky as it splashes down her inner thighs. She can hear it splatter on the floor, puddling between her hooves. Each thrust feels like it fills her up then pumps it back out.

Her second time getting creampied today

“That was awesome!” Shining gasps, collapsing atop her. His weight is delicious.

“That was quick,” Cadance says, smacking her lips.

“Shut up! It’s my first time.”

Cadance smiles. “You've got a bit of practice ahead of you before you can make me scream in pleasure before I pass out.”

Shining grinds his hips against her rump, twisting his cock inside her. Searching for more. “And you . . . Don’t think I didn’t hear you, Princess That-was-quick. Fill me up, honey? Breed me?” He bites her neck. “You bitch.”

Cadance whines, covering her face with a hoof. “Shut up. It’s my first time.”

Shining laughs, squeezing her tight.

Shining and Cadance lay cuddled together on the table, listening to the castle outside. Ponies have been knocking and yelling for a few minutes now, but Shining just keeps the door locked while they hold onto one another.

“What about Wing?” Cadance asks.

Shining exhales.

“I was doing a fine job stringing him along and getting our kingdom what we need without giving him anything. All I needed to do was let him think I was hot for him while he called me names and licked my face and groped between my legs and rubbed his cock against my flank. Once you get past his aura, Wing is easily the most manipulable stallion I’ve ever met. But then you had to come along and fuck everything up. Our Celestia-damned kingdom is going to freeze to death.”

A sinister grin slides over Shining’s face. “Thankfully, I have a better idea. Next time, I’m going to let him fuck you instead. I am going to get you transformed then dress you up in a pretty blue bow and deliver you on a platter for him to fuck. Assuming you haven’t let Chryssi go by then.”

“Chryssi?”

“Chrys-a-lis,” he pronounces. “Changeling Queen? Remember? We’re pretty good friends. I bring her regular meals and keep her company, and she tells me all about what you two get up to. Do you know how many pony lives she’s lived over the years? She basically shaped Equestrian History as we know it.”

Cadance whispers, “She was disguised as Twilight when I went to her today.”

Shining clicks his tongue. “Oh, you poor thing. I bet that was real hard for you. Did she choose the young Unicorn version? Heh. A nubile young filly pining for her older brother. Eager for his love. Did she use that pouting voice and tell you she was cold and lonely? That would do it. Fuck me, I love you sometimes. I love that you’d do anything for her. Especially when you act all big brothery. That’s hot.”

“You do?” Cadance whimpers. “But—but I cheated on you! I fucked my sister!”

“Yeah, and we’ll talk about that. I haven’t been a very good wife recently, I think. And Twilight? Ha!” Shining climbs over her, rubbing his cock over her backside and smearing cum everywhere, and nibbles her ear. “A naive, eager, and repressed little filly like her? Who hasn’t? She and I talk, you know. The real one. The Princess of Friendship with Benefits has a very active sex life. Your sister’s hot.” She presses close and whispers, “Even I’ve fucked her.”

“What?”

“Once. A long time ago. When I was still babysitting her. I guess I didn’t fuck her, per se. But we definitely crossed a few boundaries that night while I helped her . . . experiment. I don’t know why I did. It’s just something about her. I don’t blame you. Maybe we should go and visit her once this is all over, hmm? I bet she’d fuck you if you tried hard enough. Or even if you didn’t.”

“Uh—”

“We could both fuck her. Would you like that? You and me dominating her? Maybe while I’m in your body?”

“UH—”

Shining scowls at his temporary male body. His cock is throbbing angrily. Cadance knows another load of cum is building up. “Fuck. Are all stallions this horny all the time? I just filled you like a pastry.”

“You get used to it,” Cadance shrugs. “I’d’ve thought you of all ponies could handle it.”

“Nope. All new physiology. Different mixture of hormones. And none of them are magical.”

Cadance laughs. “Maybe next time you’ll be a little more patient—”

“Nope. I know full well you can handle yourself despite your silly male urges. I expect only the best from my husband, even if he is a fucking stud.”

“How about I promise to keep my silly male urges for when we’re in private?”

Shining expects her to chuckle; instead, she sighs.

“You used to do it too.”

“Do what?”

“What Wing and the others do. When you first met me. My aura, or whatever it is, wasn’t as strong back then. But you had no concept of personal space. You used to sniff my mane when you thought I wouldn’t notice. Or touch my cutie marks. I got used to you crawling all over me long before you got used to my aura. Even your parents wanted to grope me. It’s just how it is.” Shining scoffs. “How do you sniff somepony’s mane and think she won’t notice? Colts.”

Cadance feels horrified. “I—I don’t remember any of that.”

Shining shrugs. “Ponies get really friendly with me. Get used to it.” He licks Cadance’s cheek and presses his body close. Cadance didn’t realize her original body’s chest felt so good. So strong and dependable.

“Goldenrod says your aura is getting worse.”

Shining rolls onto his back and waves at the ceiling. “He worries. It’s not like anypony can do anything.”

“Still. You should’ve told me. You should’ve told me they were doing that to Flurry!”

“Should I also tell you about all the gross feminine things she and I hide so you won’t get all squicked out? She’s already a mare, Shiny. Besides, it’s not as bad as she makes it out to be. Her aura doesn’t affect any pony for long. She just likes the attention.”

Cadance gawps for a few moments. “Well—Ambassador Wing’s met you several times before. He definitely has no excuse.”

“I agree. Especially not after today.”

“So what are you going to do with him?” Cadance asks again.

Shining scowls. “Well . . . It’s just Crimson Wing, now. Not Ambassador.”

Cadance leans way back, eyes wide. “What happened?”

Shining doesn’t answer, at first. He rolls off the table and stands up straight, looking at the door.

“Cadance?”

“I threw him in the dungeon, that’s what fucking happened!” He snorts. “I did what you’ve wanted me to do all this time. I should’ve done it ages ago.”

“In the—But he’s—You can’t—Cadance!” Cadance sputters, scrambling off the table to confront him. “He’s an ambassador! From the Dragonlord! You can’t just throw him in the dungeon!”

She stares at her husband-wife who has apparently gone and violated every single inviolable law of diplomatic relationships—and in Shining’s body, no less!

“What about the summit?” Cadance says. “What are we going to do when the others find out? What about the Dragons? Why would you—”

“He raped my husband!” Shining roars, stomping at the floor. “Let the Dragons come. We don’t need their charity.”

A snarl splits his face, looking positively predatorial. Ready to kill somepony.

Cadance sighs. Despite the fighting, the sex, the stress of a summit that’s almost certainly ruined—

“Fuck them!” Shining yells.

—she knows what her snorting, snarling, raging husband-wife needs right now. Slowly, carefully, Cadance reaches her forelegs around Shining and hugs him.

“There, there. It’s okay.”

“He hurt you!” he complains, struggling under her hug. “It is not okay!”

“I’m okay. I’m a big boy. I’m okay,” Cadance soothes, holding tight. “Well, I’m a big girl right now. But I can handle a mean old dracophile.”

“He’s going to rot in there!”

“Shh . . . ” Cadance eases her husband down into a more comfortable position. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Nopony got hurt. Nopony’s in danger.” She figures it’s best not to tell him that Wing and Dragonlord Ember are planning on gangbanging their daughter. Or that Dragonlord Ember wants him to sire her heir. “You did good.”

Shining looks at him. “I did?”

“Uh huh. Wonderfully.”

Shining exhales. “I just . . . I got so mad when I saw what he’d done. I let him hurt you. I thought I could handle him. I could handle him. But I couldn’t handle him doing it to you.” He sniffles. “I get it, by the way. How you felt.” He wipes his face on her shoulder. “It su-hu-hucks.”

“Yep. Don’t feel too bad. It might be the body. I still think Chrysalis can manipulate a body’s chemistry, not just its appearance.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

They lay in silence for a little, cuddled together, their breaths and heartbeats matching.

“I love you, Princess Cadance,” Cadance says.

“I love you too, Prince Armor,” Shining says.

They kiss.

A lick of green fire catches on her hoof. Cadance cries out as Changeling fire consumes her.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Shining says, his voice quiet over the roaring fire.

“Sweet fucking Celestia! How do they—Oh, fuck!—put up with it?”

“Mmm, I imagine Changelings get used to it. But the timing’s a little too convenient, if you ask me. And I gotta say—not looking forward to my turn.”

The green fire evaporates with a sizzle, leaving him in his original body, unburnt and unharmed, if a little singed.

“Well, this is interesting,” Cadance in Shining’s body says, licking his lips. “I guess your spell wore off.”

Shining Armor in his own body gulps. “And, uh. Your’s hasn’t, yet.”

“Not for a while, I hope.” He stomps a hoof on Shining’s chest, then slides it down his sternum, over his stomach, to tease his erection. Each can smell the other’s breath, hot on his face. Still very horny. “Mmm. I seem to recall a certain somepony was interested in anal sex.”

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Me neither.”

“It’s pretty hot.”

“Pretty fucking hot.”

“Do we need to deal with the summit right now?”

“Fuck them.”

They kiss.

“We should do this more often,” Shining breathes, grinding his cock against Shining’s cock.

“Totally,” Shining says, licking his lips.

They kiss again.

The door opens.

Both Shinings freeze.

“Mom? Dad? Goldenrod said I shouldn’t come in here but I don’t really give a—Whoa.”

For a few moments nopony says anything. Then—

“Oh!” Flurry prances up to stand beside her parents, both of whom are rubbing their junk against one another. “Did Chrissy turn you into dad? I didn’t know she could do that. Can she turn me into you, mom? Heh. You there, Page! Bring your Princess some wine. Ah ha ha!”

“Flurry—”

“So, like, can you go down on me again?”

Author's Note

The End

Shining in Cadance's body may not realize it, but this isn't the first time one of their annual jamborees has been interrupted by a couple of dignitaries angrily rubbing their junk together atop piles of documents.

:facehoof:

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