The God of Decadence, as he was so called, sighed deeply.

Stretching, he began to make his way across his spacious cell, though it could barely be called one, rolling his shoulders as he moved in an attempt to loosen his stiff body. He showered, letting the warm water wash over him and pull away the day’s sweat. It’d been another day of failed attempts, none of them were even close.

If he’d been told in his adolescence that this was the future that awaited him, he might’ve jumped for joy. Now, over a thousand years later, he desperately wanted out. Why did this have to be the sum of his existence? Hours upon hours of attempts to dispel the energy inside of him, something he’d not been able to do alone for a very long time, new mares almost every day, though he never saw any of them more than a few times.

If he was to even attempt to calculate how many he’d been through in his long, long life… it boggled the mind, even to him. Not that it made it any harder to tell them apart. Every mare was unique to him, each with qualities that made them dissimilar to the others or traits that set them apart…

But it still wasn’t enough. The frequency with which he found a mare that he felt enough of a connection with that he could enjoy himself, or that he simply felt their raw sexual prowess was strong enough or found them aesthetically pleasing was steadily diminishing. His standards had rose, he supposed. He’d felt every myriad feeling that a human could before, surely, and while he was thoroughly convinced that nothing out there would surprise him anymore, he could always hope that he’d be able to at least recapture some of his favourite sensations, every once in a while.

The alternative was dangerous. It’d already been around three weeks since he last finished himself off, and with every day, every second that passed he could feel his psyche beginning to slip. What might happen if he didn’t get something that worked soon? Would he hurt a mare? Truly hurt her? Would he be able to keep himself contained anymore? He knew that he could mount an escape attempt pretty much whenever he wanted if he truly tried, and that no one would be able to stop him with ease, but his waning conscience, his concepts of morality, his connection with the princesses kept him at bay.

But that tether was slipping. He could imagine what it’d be like now. He could find a quiet corner, a small village, and set himself up a life, try and keep it quiet, meet a nice mare…

But the longer he abstained, the stronger his powers would become, and before he knew it, he’d be taking ponies over without even meaning to. It wouldn’t be long until they declared him some kind of local leader, and then, ponies would flock in, he wouldn’t even have to seek them, he wouldn’t even need the drive to conquer…

Until eventually, all of Equestria would be sat on his dick, and he would be king, and that would be that. None would be able to stop him by then. Is that what he wanted? Truly, it wasn’t.

If that’d been his desire, he’d have actualised it by now a thousand times. But then, there was always the chance that he’d only been keeping that selfish want at bay with these constant visitation fucks over the last millenia. What if that was the case?

He knew that what he truly needed was someone to love. That was it, the one feeling he’d never felt in the last thousand years. He wasn’t sure if he was incapable of love, or if he simply hadn’t found the right mare, in all of this time, but he knew that if he truly wanted to break this feeling and live happily for the first time, if he wanted to get away from these horrible feelings, that was what he would need.

It was a pipedream, but it was still a nice one to have nonetheless. Between the reading, sleeping, and sex, a person had plenty of time to think, to wish, to want.

I Found Something I Wasn’t Looking For

Princess Luna found herself strolling along a beach. She quickly recognised the Trottingham shipyards in the distance, though the landscape looked not like it did now, but how she remembered it a millennia past. It was strange to say the least, looking through the periphery of another, experiencing their thoughts, memories, and fantasies…

But when they were those of a being as complex and unique as the God of Decadence, and when those same dreams were grounded in a past she too had been there to witness? That was when things took a definite step towards the uncanny.

The surreality of the situation was offset by the simplicity of the setting. Ponies went about their business in the foreground, buying food from a farmer’s market, walking with their children, laughing and conversing in the widely paved cobbled streets… it was a spacious area, filled with live and vibrancy. Further still, you could see the beach past rows of spaced out houses, where ponies lounged, swam, and played in melodious accord.

It was a happy, serene place, even as it was alive with the sound of chatter.

It was on that crowded, open white beach that Luna found her creature, and where his slumber had brought him.

Oh, he was still a beauty to behold… his tall, imposing but regal stature, his athletic, defined body, his soft lips and the gentle curls of his hair, his eyes, his smile, his—Luna steeled herself with a hard stomp against the sand beneath her. She wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to notions of fantasy. This was the dreamscape, this was her realm, she was meant to have the power here!

And yet, no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, it made him no less alluring. His simple presence, even without him having noticed her, even with him only being a mental projection, only holding a fraction of the creature’s actual presence?

Simply his image was enough to drive Luna to want more. To want to talk to him, to touch him, to kiss him once more…

But of course, she would find the will to refrain. She was here to study him, to watch that which he did and learn exactly what it was that made him tick. Helping the kingdom was important. Helping her sister was important. This wasn’t real, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be sucked into it.

The first thing she noted upon watching him was that he was sat alone. He wore nothing but trunks and shades, leaving his impressive abdomen on full display, sat on a towel with his arms behind him, holding himself up and looking out towards the rest of the beach. Luna snuck her way a little closer, questioning herself as she did so.

She knew that she was in control. Other creatures would not see that Luna had entered their dream unless she chose to reveal herself, she was essentially invisible to them, but even still she felt the need, the compulsion to sneak around. Because what if he did? What if they made eye contact, for even a second? Even with his eyes hidden by the glasses, what if he saw her?

And so Luna snuck because it felt safer that way. And she sat, and she waited, and she wished that she didn’t feel so much desire and forward momentum pooling in her stomach…

Eventually, he rose. He’d been reading a book, she noted, something she hadn’t originally realised. Apparently, for all the time that Luna had spent looking in his direction, she still couldn’t pay enough attention to specifics to realise even that. She knew it was because she was averting her eyes, trying not to stare, but this was ridiculous. She needed to get ahold of herself.

As she looked around her, trying to realign herself, Luna realised with a gasp that she might’ve been the only one staring. It didn’t feel realistic whatsoever, when she thought about it. She’d taken it as normal when she first arrived but now, when she considered it, did that make any sense whatsoever?

If the Salacious One were sat on a beach in Equestria, every pony in the general vicinity would be clambering over one another in an attempt to reach him and win his favour first. They’d notice him, they’d want him, and they’d try to approach and seize him. Such was his effect, and the only thing that had ever staved it off, for a time, was the connection he had once shared with both her and her sister.

And yet there he was, strolling along the beach, getting nothing more but a vaguely interested glance every once and a while. The kind of glance a pony might give a strange creature that they’d never seen before. One they had a vague interest in, but nothing beyond that…

Luna’s eyes widened at the realisation. She stopped following him, her legs going dead as she pondered that the truth could indeed be this simple, and yet this dooming. “Is this really what he wants? To be left alone?”

No one answered, of course. But then, that’s only because she didn’t ask in the right place. Searching, Luna quickly found and cornered a young mare, probably in her twenties, taking her to the side and engaging her in conversation. She chatted with her like you might a stranger you met on the beach, and once introductions were out of the way, she showed him to the mare. “You see that creature over there?”

“Yeah, what about him?” the dream mare answered, an eyebrow raised.

“What exactly does he look like to you? What do you think of him?” Luna couldn’t understand it, was he meant to be invisible to those around him in this fantasy?

“A human, of course,” the mare scoffed, looking at Luna as if she was crazy. “What, have you never seen one before?” The mare looked at him for a little while longer as Luna’s head span, before concluding: “He is kinda cute though… think I should go talk to him? Do you know him?” she gestured between Luna and him, sat a short distance away. “Is that why you’re here, to try and get me to go over to him?”

Luna truly needed a second to catch up, but the only way this was gonna work was if she bought into the fantasy and played along, so she decided to try her best to roll with it. “Yeah, something like that…” Luna smiled at her new imaginary friend. “You think you could go over and have a chat with him? I’m sure he’d appreciate the company...”

“Hmm… yeah, sure, if you say so.”

Luna watched as the young mare walked over and sat down beside him, listened as the two of them began to chat. The dream began to morph around them as the mare became more and more of a focal point, the two of them bantering back and forth.

“So, you come here often?” he said, eyes firmly on her, no longer absorbed in his reading.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” came the response, fast as anything.

And it continued in this manner for a while, and to Luna, it was simply astounding, watching this mare play her cards so close to her chest, leaving him waiting and wondering, not simply being wooed or romanced by a word or a touch, it was as if…

It was as if he was normal. It was as if he was just like anypony else in the world. He didn’t want to be invisible, did he? He didn’t want to be left alone, or to find the absolute perfect pony, or anything like that…

He just wanted somepony to see him, the way that he saw them, and that was all there was to it.

And right then, right there, Luna wanted to see him too. To see him as a man, the way this other mare did. She revealed herself to him then, striding over and sitting down beside the two of them. “Room for one more?” she smiled, nestling herself comfortably into the towel, quickly forgetting the other mare’s presence and moving to say hello to the object of her attention. “Hey there, don’t suppose you’d mind a little more company?”

“Luna?” his voice struck her like hot coals.

“Y-you remember me.” The dream shifted again. The pony next to her sat up, more attentive, and scooted closer to him. “What exactly do you remember?”

Suddenly, it felt like more eyes were on the three of them. Luna could feel his gaze, too, pick it out from the rest, the naked, exposed feeling it offered in abundance. It was captivating, but also liberating. She felt trapped beneath him as he regarded her, but like she could do anything at the same time. It was the strangest contrast, but as familiar as it was foreign, and as welcome as it was anxiety-inducing.

“I remember what we shared,” he stated, lowering his sunglasses, looking at her fully. She felt a deep compulsion to pounce on him then, to kiss him. She barely remained rooted on the ground. “I remember the openness, the passion, the depth of our bond, as brief as it might’ve seemed looking back now.”

Her better instincts were working overtime to prevent her from doing something she’d deeply regret. How could he recall so much in this state? How was he so lucid? It shouldn’t have been like this, Luna should’ve been able to—

“Hey, lady, I saw him first, alright?” the dream pony from before piped up. Apparently, she’d forgotten the conversation they’d had earlier. Had Luna shattered the illusion already? Had her desire eclipsed the dream’s atmosphere? “Back off, find your own man.”

Luna dissipated the annoying pony with a flick of her hoof. She ceased to be, and everyone in the dream moved forwards as if she’d never existed, as they should’ve.

“That was rather distressing to witness. Did she deserve that?”

Luna felt a cold stabbing, like the blood in her legs had become very still. There was no way he should’ve been able to recall or recognise what she just did, there was no way—

There was blood on Luna’s hoof. Unmistakably, there was blood matted against her fur, and on the other side of the beach towel, past the creature for which her future had stopped, for which her past was devoted, Celestia laid sprawled on the ground, wings splayed.

She was clutching her muzzle with both forehooves. Her lip was split.

“You shouldn’t have done that to your sister, Luna. It was needless and cruel.”

His voice was stern, but empathic. It spoke of forgiveness, of care and acceptance.

Luna blinked. They were no longer on a beach, but in her own royal chambers. In her bed. All three of them were in bed together. Celestia’s blood stained her satin sheets. She felt guilty, and horrible, and—

“There, there, it’s okay, my princess… I’ll be with you again soon.” The creature reached down to stroke her sister, to divert attention away from her, to scold her and then touch her sister instead of her, to leave her feeling all cold and distant and then to—

Celestia choked back tears, holding out a hoof and stroking his face in turn as he nurtured her…”My love, I only want you… I want you to be all mine…”

“I’ve told you not to fucking touch him.” Luna struck her again. She felt the crunch against her hooves. She raised them once more, to punish him also, but she found herself incapable. She fought the urge to break down in tears until she couldn’t. “This is my bed…” she moaned and thrashed between tears, trying not to scream. “You’ve climbed into my bed for… for what? We agreed that I could have him three days in a week, and you the other four, and you blasted even keep to your own blasted rota?! This is my time, and I will not have you encroaching on it, you will not steal him away from me!”

Luna spat each of the words with a vitriol that felt so alien to her, yet so right when she was with him. She could be anyone if it was for his affection, do anything, be any version of herself necessary in order to truly win his love…

She needed to wake up. She needed to wake up and she knew it. This was all wrong, it wasn’t meant to be like this.

But now she was kissing him, kissing his face and his body and feeling him kiss her in turn, the sensation of his lips against her muzzle, of his body pressing into her, the ceaseless enjoyment she derived of every instant of affection, of want. She wanted more than anything to wrap herself around him, to take everything he deemed her worthy of and earn all that existed beyond that, to make him want her, to make him feel as if she was deserving of his effort and time, to give him even a shred of the satisfaction he so easily granted her.

Luna needed to wake up.

She forgot Celestia in her mind’s eye, cast her out of the dream. It was just him and her now, in their bed, as it once was. The kissing graduated to full on contact, her tongue against his, dancing in small, teasing, touching motions that skipped and repeated themselves through motion she could only describe as instinctual; her body danced to quite a different beat when she was with him, everything was attuned and aligned differently, she felt as if she had little control of her faculties, and had sacrificed all of that bodily autonomy to him, the one she worshipped.

And now it really was her time to adore him, to show him how much she had missed him, how much she’d been thinking about him these last thousand years, how perfect they truly were for each other, why no other mare was even worth looking at when she existed. How they all paled in consideration of the bond that they shared…

She kissed down to his stomach, magically undressing him as she went, stripping him down to his briefs and noting the intimidating size of that which stiffened beneath as she went. It was base and degrading to admit, but she missed it so much, his cock, she felt as if she needed it, as if it would fill something in her that no other pony had ever been able to fill, as if it would leave every question answered and every unresolved tension solved.

Having him would make her whole again, surely. Having back that which she desperately begged for, striving for more, never enough. It was never enough. “I need you, I need you so much…” Desperate little whore for his cock, wasn’t she? She was so fucking needy, and all she wanted beyond anything was to take him right then and there. She’d sacrifice anything for that desire to be satiated right now, anything that she could imagine or think of, her morals, her standards, her self-respect, all of it became transparent and needless, obsolete in the face of the pure hedonistic experience proffered to her now, the primal drive to take that which she wanted, to be taken too, to be his in body and spirit and name for as long as he wanted, whatever he wanted from her, a slave to his every whim and want…

Even when he seemed reluctant to continue, she continued to strip him down. Was he repulsed by her ravenous nature? Or did he simply wish that she was more graceful in the process? Did he wish to exercise more dominance? Was she preventing him from doing as he pleased? No, if that was the case then he would simply let his wish be known and she would follow it, follow his every command. She was at his underwear now, pulling it off of him, exposing him, his neatly trimmed area, his thickness, his impossible length by pony standards, the soft pinkish flesh of his head and the subtle musk he carried down there…

She took a tentative lick, examining and testing the surface and texture as one might sample a wine, but it wasn’t long until all formalities were forgotten and she was to work, licking and suckling on his tip and earnestly attempting to bring him to ecstasy, to give him such pleasure as he hadn’t experienced in such a long time, to make him feel as if she was the best, and she was the one that he wanted, and that he would be lost without her lips, her tongue, her tight little throat wrapped around his shaft…

She felt a small movement from him, a slight thrust, a grunt, and knew that she was doing a good job. She also felt a compulsion telling her to wake up, but she pushed it away. She no longer cared.

Luna’s only concern now was making him cum. That and having him back, having him be a part of her life again, marrying her, or maybe just looking at her every now and then, that’d do, anything really, she just needed him, she needed him, she needed him, she—

Her train of thought was broken by a hand rubbing at the back of her head as she kept going, encouraging her, pushing her forwards, telling her that what she was doing was working, that it was what he needed, that he loved her and appreciated her and wanted her and that that was why he was surely encouraging her to—this is a dream and you know it—Luna didn’t care! She continued to work him as she incorporated a hoof, covering him from base to tip as best she could, keeping his tip in her mouth and swirling around in small concentric circles before switching up and reversing her rhythm in order to keep him entertained, to buy time to prepare herself for what hopefully came next…

It was like a fire had been ignited inside of her when he touched her privates in return, one that had never truly been quelled or snuffed out, one that had always been alive and smoldering since the first time they’d met, though it only took a single touch to be brought back to roaring life, to make her moan and shudder against his cock, to leave her gasping and twitching and begging muffled and wordlessly for more, so fucking helpless, all she could do was continue to try and please him and hope, pray for the same treatment…

The thoughts that each sensation brought to her mind were so cacophonous and disparate that it was as if the noise never stopped, the wonders and fears didn’t abate and the wildness was without pause, it was all-encompassing and brought her to states of bliss that she’d never before quite considered possible. Even when she’d had those same experiences in the past, the memories could never compete with the real thing, and having his very real hands on her, touching her, holding her, making her, such a large creature by pony standards, feel small and nubile and feminine by his touch, was an experience that was scarcely comparable to any other.

He wasn’t a brute, either, even if there was a beast inside of him that she so wanted to see again. He was graceful with his movements, the way his fingers glided over her body made her feel as if she was a canvas being painted in nimble, precise strokes, while the vocal reactions he elicited made her feel as if she was an instrument being played solely for his amusement.

He was her god, above anything else, he eclipsed all other meanings of the word in her mind, to deify him was to explain the cause of every frustration and need she’d ever had, she couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him to fuck her, to fill her, to make her feel that way he used to, to bring her to true happiness once again and leave her at her true peak of being, to keep her there, suspended in euphoria. It was serendipity that allowed him to enter her life, and she was so lucky now, so happy that she’d gotten to see him again, even in this small way, and now that she could…

When she pulled herself away from him she could only do it with the knowledge that what was coming next was better than having him in her mouth, better than anything that a pony could experience. This was it, the last thing in Pandora’s box, the missing element, the ‘x’ that marked the spot, the secret to it all, this coming sensation represented all of that and more, it was a culmination of every positive emotion that Princess Luna could list and more, and she would once again drink thirstily from the fountain of temptation, now, with him laid over her, his body pressed against hers, legs spread and ready, waiting, tremulous as he whispered in her ear…

“You need to wake up, Luna.”

Author's Note

Hope you enjoy the second chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

That all said, I've got a blog post I hope you can take the time to read, as it's pretty serious. If you're able to have a look, a million thanks.