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?

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.