Pretty Princess Fillies Shouldn’t Commit Incest

“More hors d'oeuvre, young miss?” A polite, yet unfriendly and stiff butler pony lowered a serving platter of various snacks and treats. A young filly, not even yet a teen, turned her nose up at it and shook her head.

“No. I’m fine.” She retorted with a scoff, smoothing out her pretty dress with her hooves across her lap.

“Ah, but growing Princesses…”

“I said I’m fine.” Pipp glared until the servant bowed and stepped away. Though she was young she had already mastered a commanding expression when she wanted to.

“You should be nicer to them. They’re just doing their best, y’know.” Came the voice next to her. Zipp’s dress was ruffled and dishevelled. Her mane was equally so. Yet she didn’t seem to care. She almost revelled in that chaos.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Pipp looked down at her hooves apologetically. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Well, just try to remember.” Zipp saw her sister frown. Instead of pressing the issue further, she changed the subject. “Your dress looks pretty. Didja get it from that new designer?”

“M-hm!’ This had had the desired effect, and the little filly brightened up immediately. “Isn’t it beautiful! It’s got these bows here, see? And these frills are so cute! I really love the sash, and the—“ She continued chattering on and Zipp lost focus, pretending to listen and nodding along.

The party around them was lively. All of Queen Haven’s parties were. It was like the whole of Zephyr Heights high society made their way to each and every event. Zipp had pondered once what they must do for a living, to be able to attend such lavish events so often at the drop of a hat. Pipp was too young to worry about such things.

Her wings were uncomfortable under the dress, and the collar was beginning to feel hot. She hated clothes, but formal dresses were the worst kind. She saw Pipp out of the corner of her eye, sitting prim and proper. Hooves in her lap, quietly looking out at the crowd of ponies. Zipp could tell she was bored, but Pipp had always been better at hiding it.

“Hey, wanna get outta here?” Zipp whispered.

“And go where? Momma said to stay in tonight, and it’s too early to go to bed. Besides, I like watching the dancing.”

“I know, Pipp, we’ll come back in time for the dance. I just want to get…out.”

Pipp blinked a couple of times. She didn’t seem to understand. “But, Mom said…”

“I’ll do that thing you like. With my tongue.” Zipp hissed, right into her ear.

This was all the convincing Pipp needed. She jolted up and hopped out of her seat, practically halfway to the door by the time Zipp had caught up. Pipp’s dress somehow allowed for more range of motion, a foresight the filly likely had planned for. Zipp wished she’d thought of that.

They rushed outside of the main hall at a full trot. Pipp looked this way and that at several doors and closets. She hummed to herself and whispered under her breath. “No, not that one.” “Too dirty. Yuck!”

“C’mon, Pipp. We don’t have all night. Just find a closet, or we could go back to our—“

“This one!” Pipp nearly shouted. She screeched to a halt and pointed. With a glance up and down the hall to make sure the coast was clear, Zipp swung open the door and pushed her sister in.

Once inside with the door shut save for a crack, the two found themselves pressed up together, on their hind hooves, stuffed between a row of boxes and the wall.

“Uff. You’re stepping on my hoof. Why’d you pick this one? It’s cramped!” Zipp protested.

“It’s a pantry. There are cookies in here. And I know you like to be up close.” Pipp giggled. Zipp rolled her eyes, but she knew her sister was right. And she wasn’t about to let her get away with that little indiscretion.

At once Zipp took charge, pinning her filly sister against the wall of the closet. Her muzzle found its way to her face and she began peppering her with kisses. Their muzzles connected. Tongues slipped forward and intermingled around each other.

“Mmmh. Ziiiipppy.” Pipp moaned. She wrapped her hooves around Zipp’s back. The kisses moved to her neck, where Zipp had started nibbling at the exposed fur and skin, leaving little hickies there.

“Ziiiiip! M-mom’ll…”

“She’ll what? Find out? Not if you don’t tell her.” Zipp pulled back from the kiss. Her forehoof found its way between Pipp’s hind legs. She sifted through layers of dress and fabric, brushing it aside.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, sis?” Zipp teased. She found her target. Her hoof brushed along Pipp’s now-exposed and already-wet slit. Pipp shivered.

“Y-yes,” Pipp whispered. She shivered and moaned.

Zipp lowered herself down. Down to the cold stone floor where she plopped down on her haunches. Pipp was holding up the front of her dress now, tucked under her forelegs.

Zipp kissed her sister’s slit, right on the wet and puffy outer labia. Her tongue rolled out of her maw and she dragged it along the small canyon between Pipp’s lower lips, earning another shudder from above. She pressed her muzzle right up against Pipp’s most private areas, and her tongue slithered forth.

She slipped her tongue inside Pipp without too much resistance. They’d done this a hundred times before by now and the smaller filly must have known to expect it. Pipp widened her stance and closed her eyes as her vision started to turn into stars. This was her favourite part, where she could just relax and fall into bliss.

The air was filled with few sounds aside from slow, methodical wet slurps and the occasional ragged breath or shaky moan. Zipp’s tongue worked its way deep inside and slithered back out, wiggling all around so as to hit as many pressure points as possible.

Pipp was readily leaking fluids now from her state of arousal and excitement, and Zipp hungrily lapped them up. The sounds grew louder, and a thick, musky scent of sex was beginning to cloud their minds.

Pipp placed a hoof on top of her sister’s head as if to keep her there, but didn’t put any pressure behind it. She started to move her hips, gyrating in small circles, timing it with Zipp’s tongue. Her breath was no longer quiet. Instead, she panted rapidly and took in gasps of air. Her heart rate had quickened.

“Z-ziiiiip. Ziiiiiiiiip, I’m gonna. Nnnng…”

Pipp couldn’t hold back. She arched her back, pressed herself against the stone wall, and thrust her hips forward, pushing her fillyhood deliberately into Zipp’s waiting maw. Zipp, for her part, hungrily lapped up every bit of the copious juices that were now flowing, her tongue working overtime.

When Pipp’s orgasm had passed and she was sufficiently cleaned up, Zipp pulled back. She wiped her muzzle dry and licked her lips. Pipp dropped her dress back down and began smoothing out the ruffles and wrinkles that had now formed.

“I’m hungry,” Pipp said suddenly.

“Alright. Let’s go get you a snack.” Zipp ruffled her mane and lead her back to the main hall to rejoin the party. She didn’t let Pipp see her roll her eyes.

Fillies. They were all the same.