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.

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