All's Flare in Love and War

Wearing a broad smile, Celestia threw open the doors of her chamber. Day Court, caught amongst its own pre-arrival discourse, summarily silenced.

"Good morning, everypony." The warmth of the Sun itself shone through her face, oozing off her words in sticky sweet tones. She flipped a glance at her pocketwatch, closed it, cast it aside towards her personal ether. "I know I'm a touch early compared to the usual. Hopefully that isn't a problem."

The response did not come quick. That did not shock her. She had come ten minutes early, and with a decidedly different demeanor than in her recent - and storied - past.

Heat rose from the gathered crowd, a collective crimson blush that stroked from face to face like swathes on a canvas. The momentary stunned quiet, broken only by fertive whispers and awkward shuffling cloth, ended with the first few displaced and burbling assurances, each pony stumbling over themselves in an attempt to soothe their Princess' concerns. After them, the wave followed.

"As you can see," Celestia said, swept an arm at herself once the ocean stilled. "I have dressed more plainly for this fine day."

Some might broach departure with her idea of 'plain'. Royals, even in their barest essentials, could hardly be called plain. Whether it was the fine chalk blue satin of Luna's gown or the gray-magenta toga of Cadance's casual, a regal plot on the highest thrones begot a mare her greatest fashionry wishes. The quality of fabrics alone might purchase a cottage.

Regardless, any definition of plain applied to Celestia compared to her typical countenance. Gone was her gleaming gold regalia, save the crown. Tossed away were her jeweleries, her rings, bracelets, anklets, and all manner of glittery old things. Pushed to the side of her wardrobe had she left the long, flowing dresses with their many layers, stitched in gemstones, hair's width filligree fussed over by masters of their craft for nights on the year.

Instead, on this young Sunday morning, she strode in with little else than a smooth, soft white robe. It hung from the right places like silken waterfalls, and clutched deeply of her robust curves like a lover's embrace. No heels, slippers, or horseshoes chased the delicate curve of her ankles.

Nor did any spell restrain her glorious, sexual form.

"This is unusual, I know. I am certain you have many questions." To emphasize her - several - points, she thrust out her bountiful chest. They bounced in their confines, meaty areola and stiff nipple peaks yearning away at the thin, single sheet of fabric. The explosive mountain of a bulge did not need such announcement, advertising itself with the way it twitched and throbbed along her crotch. Each pulse stirred the clothen folds, and Celestia didn't care if anyone noticed the faint but growing stain near her belly button.

She smirked ruefully, briefly placing a palm to the subtle swell of her waist. Power thrummed, and something - someone - there kicked.

The public had not been made awares, but they would come soon enough time. Until then, she hid the rising life inside her as any pregnant mare might. If her and Luna's efforts trickled down to the rest of Equestrian society as they hoped it would, perhaps other mares would feel more comfortable displaying their bearing forms, swollen bellies, even lactating breasts under the right context. After all, what else than the prodigiously pregnant Princesses themselves could better set such prenicious precedent?

They should throw a festival, mayhaps. A fertility festival, with her, Luna, and Twilight on offer. Luna and Celestia both heavy, fat and flesh exploding abound from Twilight's foals - six-pointed star branded on their tummies, something that had given them a shared connection to bond over. Twilight more so, it being the first pregnancy she had experienced, and knocked up by both her elders at once. Whatever hole, hand, or pole the public might wish to use, they could use it.

It was a tantalizing idea, one that made her lips up top and down low drool with scarcely hidden desire. She would need to organize it all - hire others, performers, concubines, dancers, musicians, and artists. Luna would be interested in introducing a select array of narcotics, ones Celestia had been curious of but yet to utilize.

Another kick returned her to the real world. She tabled the distraction and swerved to business. "Rest assured, everything will become clear in time. I have been enlightened to some truths of late. For now, I would like to introduce you to the beginnings of this change, and since I have come so early, I believe we have plenty of time."

Reaching up, Celestia crooked a finger in view of the doorway. Plaintive steps followed, clicking against the marble with the tempo of an anxious professional. Celestia, stealing a look over her shoulder, lowered her gaze to Raven.

"Come," she whispered, and beckoned again. Raven obeyed, speeding her travel until she stood by Celestia's side. For a precious second, she lingered on the view of her beautiful baby bump, round, smooth, and healthy with foals. "Around to my front, dear."

Raven offered a sharp nod, salute, blush, and stammer of apology all at once as she scampered to the right position. Celestia loomed over her, bearing down with the full amazonian height of an ascendant alicorn. Raven was not cowed, but the twitch on her right eyebrow's tip and the rub of her thighs suggested both nerves and arousal. Up to, including, and since her display at Twilight's library, Celestia had put her beloved secretary through much. So long as she didn't pick at her fingers or fuss with her tie, she knew the mare would be alright.

"Witness," Celestia called, projecting her Canterlot Voice at the teeming stands. They snapped upright, attentions glued to her and Raven. Pursed and curling lips gave the impression of whipped curiosity. "And bear respect for your Princess' loins."

Before they could offer a syllable, Celestia unfastened the knot. Raven's eyes bulged, and for all attendees to see, fell to her knees and cradled the breadth of virile alicorn junk.

Gasps, shouts, hollers of indignation stirred the council air. They did not bother her. How possibly could they, when nopony stood to leave? When in that mix of refutation sat the countless more blushing faces, averting eyes, and shuffling legs?

She heard them, amused they believed she couldn't. Stifled whimpers and whines - mostly from the feminine portions of the Court - stoked her holy sinner flame. Dewing beads of sweat that gathered on their foreheads, teeth biting down to pull on soft, succulent lips, pleasantly plush for kissing and cradling nipples, clits, cocks, and ponuts.

If some in the highest ranks of nobility, politics, culture stuck to their prudish ways, so much so they refused to take part in this new way, she could live with that. She had made peace with it. She knew, oh she knew from plenty first-hand experience the infinitely more unstabilizing periods of equine history. Civil wars, revolutions, great battles, internal upheavals and all manner of magical monstrosity had ravaged their corner of the globe.

A few more bobbing dicks and pretty pussies wouldn't hurt a fly.

An ache in her loins fixed her focus. It pulsed, throbbed, and the flare's slit winked open and closed like a yawning beast. Complete with thick, semi-translucent strands that hung from top to bottom, squeezing out as it closed to push free dribbling streams, it gave a pony the impression of an entity with a mind and body of its own.

In many ways, Celestia supposed, that could be argued as somewhat true. But, ultimately, she held the reins of her behemoth. It answered to her.

Celestia leered down at her budding broodwhore. "Open wide, slut. Allow these fine Equestrians an opportunity to see superior dicksucking skills at work."

Raven's clipped, obedient 'Yes ma'am,' was cut off by her own gargling choke as she stretched her jaw wide. The twitching pink end stuffed inside, bulging her cheeks as she struggled to fit it in, rivulets squirting out and mixing with spit to slide down her chin, neck, throat, and finally a pool of swirling gloop that welled in her cleavage. Its pearly surface shimmered, ripples travelling through from every shuddering, staggered breath, deep throaty groan, or push from Celestia's birthing-wide, seat-obscuring hips.

"Ohhhh, yes my darling," Celestia groaned. Shunting forward, her balls swung and slapped Raven right in the chin. Dripping with sweat and whatever slimy cockliquids had gathered down, the layer of semi-salty, musky slick bounced off, leaving Raven's jaw a little wetter. Plaintive, chirping squeaks like a bird's song interrupted the consistent 'glurk', all from Raven as her hands found work to busy themselves.

Resting a palm on Raven's head, she twirled milky fingers into chocolate locks. One quick jerk and a light touch induced the amount of pain her slutty secretary enjoyed. "As you can see," announced Celestia. She tugged on the scalp to move Raven's head further up, turning her cock-stuffed frothing maw to the crowd. "My wonderful, incredible secretary of many years has devoted herself true and full to this freer version of Equestria. Do what you will as I offer this vision to you. Decide what part you would like to play, and allow yourself to be unburdened by the choking collars of our recent past. Mmm..."

Celestia moaned, mashing Raven's snout into her furry crotch. "So that... Ah~ So that we might love and appreciate the gilded chokers of our approaching future."

Assured in the knowledge Raven didn't need any help to facefuck herself, Celestia swapped hands from head to booty. Fingers dug into pliable flesh, so much barely contained unicorn flank straining against professional cloth. She played with them, jiggled them, wobbled them, cupped them from the bottom and bounced her wrists to palms. Once, twice, thrice she'd juggle them in her grasp, only to let them go at the last moment so they could move and ripple as they wished for seconds after. When she wasn't doing that, she blindly groped and fondled, delighting in the protesting squeak of synthetic fabric.

Allowing the scene to speak for itself, Celestia fell silent. As silent as one could fall in her circumstance, anyhow. She did not speak per se, but to describe her as 'quiet' would have been grossly inaccurate. Even were it not for her cooing, harmonic moans, the steady rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh, the gagging, gurgling, glurking as Raven's tight throat distended and bulged with mixed liquids and alicorn cock, the duo treated their audience to a musical symphony unlike any other.

Things picked up pace as Raven found better purchase on Celestia's ballsack. Those hands, built for paperwork and quills, looked positively diminutive compared to the full breadth of Celestia's swimming alicorn cumtanks. Seeing the difference for herself drew narrowed eyes, predatory gaze, and a steaming, snorting flare of nostrils from Celestia, finally capped by a dark possessive growl. "You love me, don't you, whore. You love how fucking huge I am. Just look at you down there, choking yourself on my shaft as I plunge your depths for hundreds to see. I can only begin to imagine how desperately, pathetically soaked that snatched cunt of yours must be. Or... Oh~"

Celestia knew something. Something that made her pole pulse with additional enthusiasm, heaping piles of vigor. The veins punched out, from white sheath and root, up down to the vibrant pink at her flare-end.

"You didn't wear any fucking panties did you," she whispered, voice like hissing steam. Raven could only manage a wide-eyed mewl and shudder. If that didn't answer the query well enough, defter handiwork rolling her testicles and fervent tonguebathing of her scepter did.

"Filthy whorse," Celestia half-snarled, turning her volume low. Lower than a whisper, but more mountain than mouse, the waves of her voice rumbled with a cavernous bass. "Naughty bitch. Why don't we show the court precisely how much of a pitiful skank you've become for your Broodmistress?"

Raven came on the spot. She came harder when Celestia's hands, already occupied toying with her backside, tore into the fabric.

Earth pony strength made fast work of the garment. Curled fingers, a tug of the wrists, and slick black polyester flew apart in ribbons. As an unnecessary show of force - but one that brought Celestia that much closer to the brink - she flared a spell and cast the pieces in flames. The last of them burnt before any touched the ground.

Up until that point, their pace had been reserved. Not calm, necessarily. Not intimate - not in the way most would consider. Yet all the same it held a steady hand, guiding, firm, predictable.

As the final ember fizzled out, and Celestia pried apart the wide gelatinous cheeks of her secretary, that all went out the window.

If the stands reacted - and she had to imagine they did - she didn't notice. Perhaps more accurately, she chose not to. Refused. Acknowledgement might let reality sink in, long enough to instill doubt in her situation.

She couldn't - wouldn't - allow that to happen. Things had come too far, and cum too much to consider pulling out now. She and Luna both weighed pregnant, heavy with Twilight's foals. Over half of Ponyville's female population had been plowed into oblivion, quivering velvet flowers gaped, wombs flooded, ovaries plugged choking wet. Raven and Celestia had crossed the ultimate boundary, and now defiled the lawful, modest sanctity of her own courtroom.

Fuck the rules. Fuck her 'modesty'. Let the last vestiges of decorum and 'sanctity' wither and die on the vine, and make way for ripe, throbbing, fertile fruits.

She lost herself to the taste of them. In her mind, sex and sluttery took the form of various fruit - peaches, strawberries, cherries, grapes. They paraded before her, and one by one she plucked them up, popped them in her maw, and moaned as she bit down. Sugary sinful juices burst, exploded, filled her cheeks until their sticky sweet dribbled down her chin, and when she finished another she indulged herself more.

Groans and expletives flowed from her panting maw, unfettered by shame. The world - what of it that mattered - shrank to her and Raven. Clapping the mare's bountiful glutes together - smacking, slapping, spanking, mashing them - she bore Raven's ponut and marepussy for anyone to see. She hoped and prayed for at least a few orgasms, a couple climaxes, so that she may bask in the incandescent sexual pride of knowing she made other whores feel good.

"Get, ahhh, ready." Her breaths came harsh, hard, fast, low. The swing of her hips had become a battering. So much spittle and pre flew or bubbled out between the seal of lips on cock they formed a drowning bridge, a coating that left not one speck of crotchflesh unslimed. "I'm going to... mmm. Going to..."

Raven speared herself down. Knees trembling, Celestia squawked in surprise. Her legs buckled, threatened to fold beneath her, but she did not falter.

It tipped the final domino. Like a crucible filled with molten metal, her cauldrons poured over. Scrotum pulling up, it drew around the ovoid contours of her brimming kegs, pushing out a ropey deluge.

Gulp... gulp... gulp... gulp... Hands squarely planted on Celestia's hips, Raven held herself in place. The torrent of seedshots slung too fast, but she'd know Celestia didn't care. Cheeks bulged to obscenity, rivers of sloughing sperm spilled down her chin, settling into the fur of her breasts, the red tie between them, the white blouse around them. There they would settle, hot and delicious as the second they spurt free.

In truth, Celestia did care. Except she didn't care in the way a pony might expect.

She wanted the mess. Loved it. Craved it. The iller equipped Raven's skills and throat were to sucking spunk, the better. The higher volume of bubbling, boiling ballbatter that fell down off her chin and lips like a waterfall, the more it pleased Celestia's wicked whims.

She held her mate there for a moment. No words exchanged between them, not that Raven could with she-stallion sledge so firmly lodged down her gullet. They bathed there, together in the warmth and jizz of the present. Celestia's plump, leaden jugs heaved with her lungfuls, wobbling gradually less as she regained normal control of her breathing.

"I have an announcement to make." Hands moving up, she encircled, squeezed Raven's waist. It, too, bulged with the welcome burden of life. "As a reward for her long-standing service, oath, and loyalty, I have seen fit to bestow a new title upon my beautiful, beloved secretary."

She waited, scanned the crowd for reaction. Red faces lit the stands like Hearth's Warming Eve. A notable few seemed more lost than that, staring ahead with glazed eyes, sweaty fur, open mouths. Of those, the surrounding rest pulled away or, inversely, drew closer. One mare had her hand down another's skirt. One stallion attempted to maintain a polite, attentive expression as a mare and stallion both beside him groped under his pants.

Heart warmed, Celestia smiled. "Henceforth, Head Secretary Raven Inkwell shall be Head Mistress of my Royal Harem. That role shall include, among others, carrying my children. Barely a day will go by in which she is not pregnant, teats stuffed with nutritious milk. When she has birthed, once she is recovered, she will receive the blessing of divine life, utilizing her womb to raise the next generation of our great Equestria." To Raven she said, meeting her eyes. "Does this please you, my lovely?"

Raven gurgled in pleasure. Celestia pinched her ass, withdrew her cock, and ordered Raven to stand. She did, pressing bare legs together as she retrieved the requisite materials for court from her ether.

Before speaking, she opened her mouth. A gloopy mass of folded slop steamed within. A swallow later, she opened it to show the creamy load gone.

"Good girl," Celestia purred. "Now," she said, to the stands. "It appears we are just in time for court to begin. What is on the docket today?"

The Honorable Platinum Rose cleared her throat, gray cheeks burnt the hue of her surnamesake. "Y-you have a-a meeting with, u-uh." Fumbling with her papers, she pulled the sheet up to her skewed glasses. If she noticed the tilt, she didn't fix it. "P-Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, to talk about the. Erm."

Platinum gulped, tugging on her collar. "Plateauing b-birth... rate."

Celestia blinked.

Cadance?

Cadance ascended years ago. And all this only started recently?

At the far end of the hall, another set of towering oak doors creaked open. Golden hoofsteps tinked against marble, and Celestia offered Platinum a loving smile. "Thank you dear. That will be all."

But not for long.