//-------------------------------------------------------// Enticing Effulgence -by Some Leech- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// No Sense Playing Coy... //-------------------------------------------------------// No Sense Playing Coy... The sound of her hooves delicately clip-clopping against the marble floor beneath her echoed through the vast, empty hallway and shattered the silence all around her. Such a thing was all too common in the depths of night, when nearly everypony in Canterlot, including her sister and subjects, were sleeping in their beds, and she relished the tranquility. This was her time, the hours when she reigned supreme, though the power and respect she wielded was a double edged sword. Lifting her head, Luna looked forward and spotted an all too familiar figure standing mute outside a doorway. Clad in dark armor that contrasted the grey of his coat and leathery wings, he kept his golden, cat-like eyes forward. His name was Noctis, her chief praetorian and commander of the small number of Night Guard whose duty it was to protect her, and he was as imposing as he was tacit. “Evening, Noctis,” she began, slowing to a halt before him. “Is there anything to report?” He tensed slightly, his eyes flicking down to her in a breach of protocol. “No, my Princess.” She willed herself not to smile, savoring his discomfort like the rare vintage that it was. “And how fare thee this evening?” “W…well, my Princess,” he replied, unable to keep the slightest waver from his voice. Lingering before him, she allowed the smallest smile to grace her muzzle. He was an exemplary specimen, powerful and in his prime, and she was the first stallion in decades - nay, centuries to catch her eye. Just a hair taller than herself and impressively built, having a broad chest, chiseled features, and the physical might of an earth pony, he was adonic. Turning away from him, she flicked her tail and nodded. “Come.” He hesitated for a split second, undoubtedly torn between his duty to remain at his post and the order of a Princess, before ultimately trotting after her. Without saying a word, leaving him to ponder her machinations, she smiled. She considered herself a patient and demure mare, a far departure from the youth of this era who were all too willing to promiscuously fling themselves at one another, yet even she had her limits. She’d tried - stars above, she’d tried being subtle with him. Altering his station to be closer to her haunts had either gone unnoticed or ignored, he only spoke when she directly addressed him, and she hadn’t once, not a single time, caught him looking at her with lustful eyes, but she was going to change that - if it was the last thing she did, she was going to change that. Rounding a corner and lazily meandering in the direction of the banquet hall, she glanced back at him. His attention was held by the wall behind her, just over her crown, and he moved like a machine. Her amusement faltered in an instant, hindered by his unshakable resolve. For goodness sake, he was a pony, not some mindless automaton! How could he resist the urge to take a peek, just a fleeting glimpse, of what she’d done expressly for him. She knit her brow and softly snorted, hastening her pace while continuing down the hallway. On any other night, her attire would consist of her peytral, crown, hoof armor, but this night was an exception. Clad in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of snow-white panties, a pair that contrasted sharply against the indigo of her coat and phthalo of her ethereal tail, her choice of attire was both wildly out of character and profoundly suspect. Without breaking her stride, she gazed over her shoulder. “At my side.” Noctis rushed forward and obeyed her command without question. He was a good soldier, one of the best, and he was an enigma in his own right. Not only was he single, having gone for several years without a marefriend to call his own, but he was infuriatingly stoic. While she could appreciate his professionality to an extent, the fact that he’d been able to maintain his composure after she presented herself in such a dubious fashion tempered her resolve with frustration. “Have you eaten this evening?” she calmly asked. “I haven’t, no,” he responded, “but I’ve -” Clearing her throat, she cut him off. “You’ll join me for breakfast then.” He slowed, if only in the slightest, and his expression shifted to one of confusion for no more than the blink of an eye before returning to normal. “Ma’am?” Stopping in her tracks, she rounded on him. “Did I not make myself clear?” “Yes, my Princess,” he stated, snapping to and giving her a salute. “It would be my greatest honor to break bread with you.” “Taking care of yourself, in spite of your many responsibilities, is a priority,” she tutted, turning and igniting her horn. “A guard who can’t take care of himself can hardly take care of a Princess ~ correct?” Bowing as he trotted, he closed his eyes for a moment. “Too true, my Princess.” She magically opened the door to the dining hall, stepped aside, and waved him in. “After you.” He stopped dead in his tracks and screwed his brow. His consternation was delicious, torn between obliging her and following the strict protocol of never trotting ahead of a Princess, and it was all she could do to remain impassive. He may not have known it - in fact, if she did everything properly, he would never know it, but he’d unwittingly entered a chess match of sorts with her. After a moment of tension and internal turmoil, he marched by her. A small victory on her part, but the first of many - or so she hoped. Trotting in after him, she entered the cavernous chamber and looked over to one of the many, vacant tables. After sunset, the castle was almost entirely vacant, excluding a skeleton crew of guards and staff, which worked in her favor. Getting Noctis alone was easy, a regular occurrence, but now the real game was going to begin. “Sit,” she noted, pulling a chair from a table she moved by. “If memory serves, you enjoy blueberry?” “I…” he croaked, caught between a command and a question. “Yes, my Princess.” Nodding back at him, she altered her course and made for the kitchen. “One moment,” she noted. “Don’t go anywhere.” She couldn’t help herself. The notion that he’d spontaneously abandon her was absurd - so much so that to propose it gave a bit of much-needed levity to the exchange. Peeking back at him, holding her breath that she’d see some trace of amusement on his handsome face, she nearly stumbled. Though he was smiling, it was his eyes - rather what his eyes were fixated upon that caused her heart to skip a beat. So far as she could tell, he’d only ever seen her in her regalia, so it was understandable that interacting with her while she was wearing something so casual threw him for a loop. Idling by the seat she’d moved for him, he gazed longingly at her backside. Being around mares in various states of undress was commonplace, so routine that nopony gave it any thought, but bearing witness to a Princess in little more than panties and a shirt - now that was an event so unthinkable that it defied believability. She collected herself in an instant, before he could realize he’d been had, and pressed into the kitchen. Two ponies awaited her, a chef and his assistant, and they immediately dipped their heads and stepped back from a serving cart. She’d ordered blueberry danishes, coffee, and a medley of berries in advance, ensuring her and Noctis’ meal would be piping hot and freshly prepared. “My thanks,” she intoned, nodding to the pair. The chef said nothing, happy to serve and proud of a job well done, but his assistant, a young, beaming mare who’d only been hired only several weeks prior, couldn’t contain herself. “I hope you and your coltfriend enjoy your breakfast!” Blood surged to Luna’s face, she stiffened, and her thoughts ran rampant. The assertion that Noctis was her coltfriend was an unforeseen variable - worse yet, it played to her desires and threatened to undo months worth of planning. Lifting and coughing into a forehoof, she wandered around the cart and magically pushed it forward. “He’s not my coltfriend,” she coolly corrected, “but we will enjoy your meal all the same. Thank you - both of you for your hard work.” Staring daggers over at his helper, the chef sank into a low bow. “It’s our pleasure.” The poor assistant was likely going to get a tongue lashing as soon as she departed, but it couldn’t be helped - not because she couldn’t intervene and preempt any chiding, but because she had more pressing matters to attend to. Wheeling the cart out and into the dining hall, she discovered Noctis standing right where she’d left him. She would have felt bad for telling him to sit, what with his stifling, inflexible armor - then again, this was part of her scheme. “I didn’t miss anything too interesting ~ did I?” she chuckled, levitating the covered platter to the table. Hopping into her seat and keeping her aura around the cloche, she scrunched her snout over at him. “Why don’t you - oh,” she gasped, feigning realization. “You may remove your armor to dine.” A suggestion - while it wasn’t an outright demand, one would be hard pressed not to acquiesce to the proposition of a Princess. Noctis dithered, glancing between the platter to her face and down at the floor. The chances of her being in any true danger were low, so low as to be nonexistent, yet his indecision was painfully evident. “Come now,” she urged, “on the exceedingly remote chance that there is a ne’er-do-well about, I’m sure you could fend them off without that heavy plate - in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were more lethal without it.” Her goading, coupled with the slight flattery, did the trick. Blushing faintly, the redness in his cheeks standing out vividly against his smokey fur, he lifted his wings and removed his helmet. There wasn’t anything remotely sexual about the stallion doffing his armor, yet she couldn’t suppress a slight tingle in her loins as his muscular body was laid bare. With her mouth watering from something other than the food, she eased herself down, tore her eyes off him, and waved at his chair. Giving a stallion attention was not unlike looking at the sun - a glance here or there was fine and relatively harmless, but staring for too long could be harmful. As he took his seat, the cloche floated upward, over and down next to the platter. “Prithee,” she began, hovering their respective plates onto their respective dining mats, “how have you been of late?” “Well, my Princess,” he impassively responded. She smiled as she locked eyes with him. “Such formalities are hardly warranted at this point, Noctis,” she snickered. “You can simply call me Luna.” “Yes, my P-” he stopped himself and averted his gaze. “Yes, Luna.” “Much better,” she sighed. Lifting her fork, she carved a sliver of her danish, brought it to her muzzle, and took a bite. The sweet and tart fruit filling paired wondrously with the buttery, flaky crust, although it paled in comparison to the morsel seated across from her. Even if she hadn’t been on the cusp of estrus, sensing the hormonal compulsions clawing at her higher consciousness, the things she could do with Noctis - to Noctis would be very unfitting of a Princess like herself. She twisted slightly and turned her attention to one of the windows overlooking Canterlot. Her movement was natural, the sort of thing anypony would do to appreciate the skyline on such a picturesque night, yet it was done with calculated precision. The fabric about her torso shifted, slipping lower to reveal her neck, shoulder, and upper foreleg. Lifting her gaze slightly and to the heavens, she brushed a lock of ephemeral mane from her face. “Such a beautiful night.” Her instincts told her that he was looking at her, having more interest in her than the meal she’d provided, but she couldn’t bring herself to check - not yet in any case. It had been many, many years since she’d practiced the art of seduction, and she’d begrudgingly admit that she was rather rusty, but she was keenly aware that it was something that couldn’t be rushed. While it was true that younger, less seasoned ponies were beholden to their impulses, a mature, utterly ravishing stallion like Noctis was unlikely to cave under the weight of their primal desires - as such, she bided her time and leaned heavily on her nigh-limitless patience. “Mmmph,” Noctis grunted. Save for a single eye that peeked over at him, she remained motionless. Much to her chagrin, her intuition was proven wrong. Instead of paying her an iota of attention, Noctis finished wolfing down his pastries and set upon the medley of fruit as though he was starved. She’d heard that the soldiery ate with efficiency, especially when they were on duty, yet his voraciousness unsettled and annoyed her in equal measure. She drew a breath, held it for a moment, then slowly and silently exhaled. Many mares in her position would likely but she wasn’t most mares - that and she’d prepared contingencies for such an unfortunate turn of events. If she was unable to catch his eye with cordiality and what was for all intents and purposes a provocative outfit, she would resort to another, arguably more extreme measure. Reclining slightly, she nibbled her danish and helped herself to a sip of her coffee. She would not be deterred, and she had an ace up her nonexistent sleeve. Leaning back further and lifting her forehooves over her head, she stretched in a very specific way. She couldn’t see it, but she felt the fabric of her shirt glide upward and over the sensitive flesh of her modest teats. “After we’re finished, I’d ask a small favor of you,” yawned, continuing to give him an innocent and unintentional view of her bosoms. His eyes shot to her face when she lowered her forelegs and peered over at him. “What favor, my P - Luna?” “Nothing too onerous, I assure you,” she murmured, taking another drink of her coffee. “I’d like you to accompany me to my chamber so I can change. As comfortable as this attire is, it’s hardly fitting that I stand vigil through the night wearing it.” Blinking, he nodded. “Of course. It would be my honor.” “As always, you have my deepest gratitude for your devotion,” she hummed as she bowed her head. If he had the faintest idea of what lay in wait for him, he gave no sign of it. She almost felt bad for him - not enough to alter her strategy or have mercy on him, but the thought of his reaction to what she’d arranged was wondrously inspirational. What little was left of their breakfast was finished quickly, lasting no more than ten minutes or so, and she was leading him out of the dining hall and to a spiral staircase before she knew it and after he’d put his armor back on. She remained mute throughout the short trip up to her chamber while pondering what was going on in that charming head of him. Surely - surely he must have had some notion that something was amiss - if not, he was vastly more dense than she’d initially presumed. Reaching her room, she called upon her magic, opened the door, and crossed the threshold. “I won’t be long,” she reassured him, lying through her teeth. Closing the door behind herself, she turned on the lights while she proceeded to her wardrobe. It may have been a bit premature to unleash her ace in the hole, but she felt like she had little choice in the matter. Her subtle flattery, making a point to talk to him on a daily basis, and even presenting herself in something a shameless nerd would wear had all failed to yield any results with him, so it was time to pull out the big guns. As she opened her closet, her eyes drifted upward. A number of different gowns and outfits were on display, ranging from her ceremonial war plate to the dresses she’d wear for formal events, yet there was one item in her arsenal of apparel that was unlike the others. Delicately levitating a gift bag from its perch on a high shelf, she smirked. Several weeks ago, she’d made a clandestine visit to one of her most trusted and skillful associates. She’d like to think it was more difficult for her to make friends than most mares, both because of her status as a Princess and the unfortunate fact that she’d been banished for a millennia to the moon, but the Elements of Harmony had accepted her with open, loving hooves upon freeing her from the curse of Nightmare Moon. She cherished all six of the mares, although there was one in particular she’d sought out for some surreptitious assistance. Rarity, the Element of Generosity, was a seamstress and designer of renown - to the point where her name as a couture rivaled that of a being a hero of Equestria, and it was for these reasons that she’d gone to the Carousel Boutique to ask for a favor. She’d been hesitant at first, fearing that her friend would think she was trying to use her, but that couldn’t have been further from the case. As soon as she’d bashfully made her request, Rarity had gleefully produced what she’d wanted. Trotting to her bed, she rested the bag on the mattress, opened it, and gently removed one article after another. She’d never considered herself a very fashionable mare, even in her youth, yet the attire that had been crafted for her was nothing short of a masterpiece. Somehow fashioned with flakes of powdered sapphire in the fabric, the abyss-black lace alone must have cost a fortune, and the expertise needed to craft the garment would have increased the price several times over, yet Rarity had given it to her for nothing more than a promise. All I ask is that you tell me what he thinks, darling… The words rang in her ears and evoked a giddiness she hadn’t felt since she’d been a filly. She wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but sharing the juicy details, assuming there would be any, would be the least she could do as repayment. Enthusiastically removing her shirt and casting it into a laundry basket by her bathroom, she wiggled her hips and drew the pair of panties down her legs. She didn’t rush to don the ensemble, ensuring each piece was seated properly before moving on to the next, and it took a bit longer than she’d expected - unfortunately, that was only the start of things. An attractive mare adorned in priceless lingerie would be enticing by any measure, but she was going to gild the lily. Practically prancing over to her vanity, she plucked a tube of lipstick from her meager selection and pursed her lips. A hint of blush here, a touch of eyeshadow, the faintest anointing of perfume - no facet was left unaddressed. Setting the cosmetics down, she closed her eyes and stepped back from the mirror. There was nothing left to do but give herself a final inspection and pray to whatever deities would listen that her ultimate gambit paid off. Opening her eyes, she gazed at her reflection and was stricken by what she saw. She’d felt confident that she’d look good, having brushed up on her use of makeup and tried on her outfit before, yet she’d been unprepared for just how breathtaking she looked. Black lace traced over her midsection, thighs, and hips, her face wouldn’t have looked out of place on a beauty magazine, and the platinum necklace studded with sapphires hanging from her neck pulled her entire look together - in short, she was more gorgeous than she’d ever been. It was foolish to be so taken with herself, virtually begging to be undone by her hubris, but she couldn’t help herself. There wasn’t a single instance that she could recall when she’d gone to such great lengths to entice a stallion. While inspecting herself in the lingerie was thrilling, it was the thought of Noctis’ reaction to seeing her that made her blood run hot. She turned, sashayed to her bed, and stepped up onto the mattress. All the pieces were in place, every detail had been addressed, and now it was finally time to spring the trap. Dimming the lights and easing herself down, she lay on her side and turned her eyes to the door. Showtime… “Noctis?” she called out. There was a brief pause. “Yes, my P - darn it.” His curse was almost imperceptible and brought a smile to her face. “Yes, Luna?” “Would you be a dear and come in?” she firmly requested in an even tone. “There’s something I’d like your assistance with.” He gave no immediate reply, possibly grappling with the idea of being alone with a Princess in such an intimate setting, but he did react. With a soft click, her door opened and swung inward. Time seemed to slow, stretching a second to the brink of an eternity, as the light of the hallway spilled into her umbral chamber. With his eyes on the floor, he stepped in and froze when he lifted his head and peered over at her. With a coy smile on her muzzle, she drew a forehoof down her side and to her flank. There were any number of things she could have said, lilting, honeyed words assail him with, yet she let her actions speak for her. With her horn glowing faintly, she closed and locked the door behind him. The trap was sprung, she’d lured him into her web, and now it was time to make her intentions known. She quietly snickered and twisted, running her forehoof over her hip and to her loins. The panties she’d been brazen enough to wear out of her room were downright pedestrian compared to the pair hugging her loins. The sheer, damp fabric flexed as her marehood winked and gave a transient peek of her rosy depths. As she lowered her gaze from his awestruck face, drawn by a movement beneath him, her composure nearly broke. Slipping from Noctis’ sheath was a behemoth, a shadowy length that grew thicker and longer with every beat of his pounding heart. She’d felt certain that he was gifted with an impressive stallionhood, having snuck glances at his loins in the past, yet she couldn’t have fathomed the majesty of his endowment. Drooling from both ends, she forced her eyes from his dangling length and back up to his face. “I wasn’t lying, you know,” she cooed, doing her best not to let her eagerness show. “I do need your help with something - something that only a strong, virile stallion like yourself can accomplish.” His jaw flapped uselessly while his wide eyes never wavered from her groin. She’d dreamt of this moment for months on end, when she’d finally have some privacy with him, but the reality didn’t do her fantasies justice. He looked so vulnerable, like a succulent fruit ripe for the plucking, and she had him all to herself. Bringing her hoof to her teats, she lightly twisted and pulled one nipple. “Your orders are twofold. Firstly, you shan’t speak of this to anypony ~ understood?” “O…of course,” he rasped, his voice cracking and barely a whisper. “Secondly,” she continued, briefly rubbing her sodden groin and bringing her hoof to her muzzle, “I want you to ravish me…” Dragging her tongue over her hoof, setting her taste buds alight with her nectar, she gave a low guttural groan. Her plan worked flawlessly and far better than she’d anticipated. In a word, Noctis broke. Rushing over to the bed, he left a trail of discarded armor in her wake. Like an exuberant colt on Hearth’s Warming morning, ecstatic to unwrap his present, he clambered onto the bed and buried his face between her thighs. His breath upon her marehood was an angel’s kiss, lasting no more than the blink of an eye before he gingerly took the lacy fabric of her panties between his teeth and pulled it aside. Her excitement was palpable, waving from her sex and dribbling to the cleft of her backside, and it was his undoing. As his tongue slid between her lower lips and up to her clit, she openly moaned. Each lap of his tongue was phenomenal, sending bolts of pleasure rushing through her frame, and it was made all the sweeter by the sight of him. Keeping his cat-like eyes on her face, he extended his leathery wings and brought them up to her lower belly. Any question she’d had of his carnal prowess was erased as he lightly teased her breasts and nursed on her clit. He was an incredible soldier, but his skills lay beyond what he could do on the battlefield. She twisted and rolled her head back while relishing her hard-fought victory. She felt fantastic, better than she had in centuries, and the sensations only grew more intense as time gradually passed. Purring into her and the vibrations of his deep, sonorous voice elevated her rapture. While she may have been the one to lure him to her chamber, he would not be easy prey. His ministrations were a taste of heaven itself. He dined upon her for what felt like hours on end, bringing her the very cusp of release before altering his technique or slowing his pace. Enrapt by ecstasy and agony, denied a climax, she gradually became desperate. She knew he was toying with her, edging her and keeping her on a razor’s edge, and it eventually became too much to bear. Leaning in and gliding a hoof over his head, she swallowed hard and mouthed two simple words. Take me… He withdrew and mutely stepped off the bed. Fear gripped her, woe that she may have transgressed or pushed him too far, but it faded as quickly as it had reared its ugly head. Grabbing her fetlocks with his wings, he pulled her to the edge of the mattress, reared back, and slammed his forehooves to either side of her hips. Staring up at him and feeling the blunt, battering ram-like tip of his stallionhood kiss her slavering entrance, she was powerless to stop him. He lowered his head and brought his muzzle to within a hair’s breadth of her face. Everything had come to this moment, all her hard work and scheming had been for this, and it did not disappoint. Driving his hips forward and locking lips with her, he gave her what she pined for. Her senses were overwhelmed, unable to fully process or appreciate assault, and the pleasure was devastating. All her power and experience, of being a demigod alicorn - it meant nothing in the face of his amorous might. With the breath hitching in her throat, rocking forward and back by each of his thrusts, she wasn’t pushed past the threshold - no, she was flung beyond it. She howled into his muzzle as her body seized and quaked. Climactic juices gushed from around his pistoning shaft, her heart pounded like mad, and her eyelids fluttered, yet he didn’t slow - quite the opposite, he increased the speed and force of his plunges. She’d asked for this, demanded this, and now she was going to reap what she’d sown. The orgasm which struck her was apocalyptic, reducing her, a Princess to a gibbering, gushing heap of limbs and wings. Oh how she’d longed for this, to be conquered by Noctis. There were many stallions in Canterlot, and countless more in Equestria as a whole, but he was hers. Entwining her tongue with his, she summoned her strength and fiercely gripped his stallionhood in her depths. He’d given her what she wanted, what she needed, and he’d more than earned his reward. His onslaught lasted for eons, driving her to one climax after another, yet she fought back with an erotic might all her own. While she’d not bedded a stallion since before her banishment, her passion and baser instincts lent her strength. The wild pulsing of his length and the feeling of him flaring within her, laying siege to her womb, brought her back to the present and fueled her lust into an inferno. At long last, the time had come. Noctis clamped his eyes shut, growled, and tensed from head to hoof, although Luna scarcely noticed the minutia. Heat blossomed within her as wave after seething wave of his seed flooded her. It was divine, the perfect ending for their tryst, she came right alongside him. All the fineries in life, the grand galas and luxuries her title afforded her, none of them could compare to the elegant simplicity of two souls giving themselves to one another. It was only when he fell still, breaking their kiss and draping his head over her shoulder, that the magnitude of what she’d done settled in. She’d paraded herself through the castle in dubious attire, she was technically in the middle of her shift, and she wouldn’t be shocked if she heard hushed whispers about what Noctis and her had been doing in her room at such a late hour, but she had no regrets. If or when rumors of her behavior became an issue, she’d snuff them out and reassure her staff that everything is as it should be. “S…should we -” She silenced him by tenderly pressing a forehoof to his lips. There were many things they should have done, ranging from a quick shower before making themselves presentable to returning to their respective posts, although they could wait just a little longer. Kissing his cheek, she contentedly sighed. It was anypony’s guess as to whether this was the first and last time Noctis and herself were intimate, but she’d like to think that it was the beginning of something magical - after all, since he was her stalwart praetorian, it was only fitting that he tend to her in every conceivable way…