Futa Chrysalis and Twilight Sparkle Have Waffles (and More Sex)

[Again, blame Cold in Gardez for these.]

Twilight pressed a hoof—gently—against Chrysalis’s chest. She leaned in, eyes stern but filled with promise, and asked, “Did I say you could talk, Pet?”

Chrysalis opened her mouth to object, but seemed to think better of it; she only shook her head.

Satisfied, Twilight lowered herself back to all fours. “Good. Don’t go anywhere—I’m going to go slip into something comfortable.” She flicked Chrysalis with the tip of her tail as she left, vanishing behind an ornate privacy screen.

Twilight opened a well-maintained wooden armoire and... well, shoot. It was missing. She frowned at the garments hanging from the rack and nosed them aside, looking for the shine of candlelight on vinyl that would reveal her special little outfit.

It wasn’t there. Huh.

“Chryssie, where’s my corset?” she called over the divider.

“Oh, I think it’s upstairs still,” Chrysalis’s voice sounded back. “I hung it up in the garden to get some air. Uh, master.”

Right, of course. Twilight sighed and trotted back to the stairs. There would be a whipping for this later, she promised herself.

The corset was right where Chrysalis said it would be, hanging on a clothesline between one of Twilight’s saddles and Chrysalis’s bathrobe. She snagged it off the line and spent a few minutes struggling into it. Tighter than she expected, mostly around the hips -- she wriggled inside it, then shrugged. It wasn’t bad, especially after she slipped on the garter belt and thigh-high stockings. She gave them a little snap and cooed at the sting against her flank.

Who’s a naughty professor! Why, you are! She tittered at the thought and trotted back into the house, ready to inflict a little ‘discipline’ on her troublesome student. This, she told herself, was going to be a day to—

“Twilight?” Her brother’s voice snapped her out of her happy daydream and back into the present. She stopped in the middle of the room and gawked at him.

He gawked back. His eyes travelled up and down her form, pausing on the shiny black vinyl corset, garter and stockings. His pure white coat turned a brilliant pink.

“I can explain,” Twilight blurted. “It’s, uh... wait, why are you here?”

“You... invited us, remember?” Shining Armor said. His eyes were still locked on her costume, even as she tried to shift around behind the kitchen table. “You wanted mom and dad to meet Chrysalis?”

Oh shit, is it Tuesday? She glanced at the calendar. It was. A bright red circle surrounded the day’s date, with the words “Parents!” written inside. Shit! Fuck, fuck fuck fuck shit! Okay, okay, I can still fix this. I can still fix this...

A faint patter of conversation drifted in from outside, accompanied by the clop of hooves on her wood patio. A moment later, the door swung open, and her parents stepped inside.

“There’s my little Twilight!” her mother gushed. She stepped around Shining Armor’s frozen form and made it three steps before slowing to a halt. “My little, uhm...”

They stared at each other, the four of them. The clock above her stove was the only sound in the room.

It’s okay. It’s okay. I can still fix this. She plastered a smile on her face and tried to imagine a zany, madcap reason for wearing a slutty vinyl corset with matching garter and stockings. “Okay, so, you’re probably wondering–”

“Master!” Chrysalis’s voice echoed up from the open basement door. “What’s taking so long?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “You’re probably wondering–”

“I think these ropes are too tight!” Chrysalis called.

Okay. Okay. “Probably wondering–”

“Come on! I want to fuck before your parents get here!” A pause. “Uh, master.”

Silence. Eventually, her father sighed and spoke for all of them.

“Again?”

* * *

With her tongue still lapping up the last drops of cider, Twilight tipped the candle again, this time on the other leg, a bit further up, a bit further in. Chrysalis was panting audibly now, fighting against the restraints; a gentle lash with the riding crop stilled her motion, though it did not settle her breathing. Again, the cider, and again, her tongue, pressed flat and drawn in long, deliberate strokes along Chrysalis’s thighs.

Wax and cider. Wax and cider. Closer and closer. She suppressed a shiver of anticipation and set the candle on the packed dirt beside her. It wobbled for a moment and tipped over, spilling a puddle of wax on the floor.

She frowned and picked it back up. The bottom of the candle had chipped at some point, and now was uneven. She pondered it for a moment, cognizant of Chrysalis’s hot, heavy, impatient breathing, then simply shrugged and leaned the candle against the wall. It stayed upright this time.

Perfect. She smiled and turned back to her captive.

Captive. What an odd word to use for this situation. She gave a little frown at the thought and leaned back to consider Chrysalis’s bound form. Was this so different from when they first discovered their love for each other, in that prison deep beneath Celestia’s castle? Was she somehow compelled to reenact that day? Did Chrysalis somehow long for it?

Chrysalis gave a little impatient whinny. Twilight swatted her absently with the crop and fell back into introspection. I didn’t like this sort of thing before that day. Do I need to be in control? Am I only comfortable when my partner is helpless? In chains? Imprisoned?

“Master?”

“Hush, pet.” This was somewhat disturbing. Had Chrysalis always loved being bound? They would have to talk about this later, Twilight decided.

“Master, I think something’s burning.”

Huh? Twilight blinked in confusion, then sniffed at the air. The acrid tang of smoke was beginning to overpower the mingled scents of their arousal. A flash of light to the side caught her attention.

The curtains! Flames licked at the fabric hanging above the candle, quickly racing up the walls. Twilight gasped and ripped them from the curtain rod and tossed them onto the floor, then began stomping on them frantically.

It was no use. The flames danced around her hooves, scorching her fetlocks. She cursed loudly and kicked them away to the side, where they came to rest against Chrysalis’s fireworks collection.

“Master, is everything okay?” Chrysalis asked. She strained at her bonds helplessly.

“Uh, yes. Everything’s fine!” Twilight looked around frantically for some water, but all she had was cider. Nice, hard, highly flammable cider.

One of the fireworks exploded with a loud bang, filling the room with a blue haze of smoke. Twilight coughed and edged closer to Chrysalis. “Uhm, we might have to leave.” More fireworks exploded, and the flames began to spread to the diesel fuel tanks beside them.

Yup, time to go. Twilight grabbed Chrysalis, frame and all, with her magic and ran up the basement stairs. It was a bit of a ride for Chrysalis, especially as the frame didn’t quite fit through the door on the first try, but eventually Twilight got her through and out the front door (which was another adventure) and came to a panting halt in the middle of the road outside her house. The frame, with a battered, blindfolded Chrysalis still strapped to it, came to a rest on the ground next to her.

They were not a moment too soon. Back in her basement, the diesel fuel tanks finally caught fire, and a tremendous explosion lifted the rapidly expanding remains of her house high into the air. Twilight watched wordlessly as flaming wreckage crashed to the ground all around. Within moments a crowd of ponies had arrived, and split their time between staring at the burning hole where her house had stood, and staring at Twilight and Chrysalis, the former of whom still wore her slutty vinyl corset, the latter of whom was still strapped to the frame.

“So, uh...” Twilight trailed off.

Chrysalis sighed. “Again?”

* * *

They had measured and remeasured to get the fit right, but both had been quite pleased with the end result: the bed was just wide enough that Chrysalis could be laid spread eagle and bound at each corner of the bed, tied securely to the four wooden posts by silver cuffs which clicked as Twilight rolled them into place.

Chrysalis made a muffled sound, a single syllable made unintelligible by the gag, but Twilight understood.

“It’s here, by your right hoof.” Twilight lifted the small plastic pig and turned it upside down. A loud “oink!” sounded from the hidden mechanism inside. She nodded and set it on the nightstand just at the tip of Chrysalis’s hoof.

* * * * * * * * *