Chapters Celestia yawned aloud, stretching her arms and back ungracefully as she returned to her chambers at sunset to find her little sister awake and ready for the night, per usual. The longtime ruler of Equestria strode to her bed where Luna sat with her computer. The laptop’s bright screen shone her bespectacled face, a faint rosy pink cutely covering her cheeks.
“Luna,” Celestia said in her knowing tone. “What depraved knaves are you humoring tonight?” Celestia asked as her knee pressed into the large, soft, comfortable bed.
Luna didn’t say anything, but did look up when she felt her sister climb onto the white and gold bed. “N-no, big sister, it’s nothing like... that. I learned my lesson,” she said with an embarrassed grin.
“Good,” Celestia said as she climbed onto her own bed, the round, wide platform so familiar to her. She laid next to her sister, observing an uninteresting video before her. She glanced at the ceiling, something she had done trillions of times, and grinned up at the familiar painting. The portrait of the countryside bathed in dawn and backed by purple mountains was no less crisp than the day she had watched her sister finish it. The end of her watch, and the beginning of Celestia’s, was a special time.
The inverse, a much simpler sunset, adorned Luna’s chambers. Celestia’s skill with a paintbrush was deplorable in comparison to her little sisters, but she could write a more descriptive tale. Still, the gift of ceiling decor was a very special bond between the two royal sisters.
Celestia jumped a tiny bit as Luna offered an earphone, holding a tiny black and red bud to Celestia’s face. She rolled onto her side, careful her large chest wouldn’t encroach upon her or her little sister’s view, and took the speaker without a word. Celestia rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, suddenly very sleepy.
“You can close your eyes, sister,” Luna softly spoke. “It’s just a song, one I thought you would really like.”
Closing her eyes was what Celestia longed to do after a particularly long day. First, there was paperwork, paperwork, litigation and bickering to settle, bucks to stop before they passed again. After noon, news of an infestation on the east coast cut her visit to her favorite pupil short. Seeing a population center safe from parasitic flies made Celestia’s stomach turn, and she had skipped her late dinner with her favorite student. She felt sad that Twilight Sparkle had had made such a fuss, but she seemed busy with her own problems. The evening... Celestia groaned and forced those thoughts out. Her day was done, and Luna’s music always helped her relax.
After the princess of the night pulled up the sleeve on her blue long-sleeve shirt and tapped the spacebar, however, Celestia didn’t want to sleep. The hip-hop beat took her completely by surprise. It possessed something much more complex than the poor boom-chick most modern dribble claimed to be a beat. The somber, wailing violins and driving bass and marching kit all combined miraculously. The beat alone made the sun’s princess look up to her sister, who half-sat with a grin splayed wide across her face.
“Not the boring lullaby stuff you enjoy, I know,” Luna whispered. Her young face and silly grin betrayed the alcoholic poet’s song. Celestia smiled back, merely smirking as Luna bobbed her head. She was too cute, even as a smooth-voiced rapper spat about the dualities of perception. Celestia stared forward past Luna’s cute collarbone, her pillows, the dressing blind, and the wall beyond. Carefully, she sat up and watched the video. A thick white guy bobbed around and kept spitting his lines.
He had nothing but the comfort of his friends, his sins, the pain that he referred to, the seas under the light of the moon and the darkened corners of new and familiar rooms. Celestia found herself biting her lip and thinking deeply after each quick line. The music was enchanting, better than slam poetry in content and in musicality. The food for thought stuck to the inside of Celestia’s cranium as the music continued on without any words, just the beat drumming on.
Luna closed her computer and set it aside, groaning just a little as she nuzzled into her sister’s embrace. Celestia’s face warmed as her little sister, so adult in stature, pressed her collar into her large breasts. Celestia wrapped her arms around Luna’s petite body and laid her cheek on her head.
“H-oh...” The day princess relaxed as her sister giggled, slipping her hand under her dress. Luna took a delicate handful of Celestia’s heavy, soft, hot breast, like she had done many times before. Since her return from the moon, and the events henceforth, Celestia had kept herself a bit guarded. Needlessly so, it would seem. Celestia smiled and relaxed, moaning and cooing her sister on. She kissed her tender forehead and let her dress get messed up. Celestia ripped the thin white cotton dress in two down the middle, winking at Luna’s shock. The gesture was an open invitation.
Luna groaned in her throat and unhooked the front clasp of Celestia’s bra. “Ah, now that’s the shit I like,” Luna said half to herself, taking both bare tits in her grabbers. She sucked one pink nipple into her mouth, the tan of Celestia’s chest contrasting with the milky, soft tone of Luna’s face. Celestia adjusted and stroked Luna’s pretty blue hair, laying her head back as her sister gently sucked away.
Celestia let her eyes shut and stay that way as Luna’s gentle lips sucked somewhat softly. The surface graced Celestia’s nipple as Luna began sucking harder, squeezing the other fleshy globe roughly. Celestia’s womanhood ached more and more, but her bed was so comfy. She slipped her knee up Luna’s thigh and pressed up into her sister’s crotch, halting everything.
“J-just a quickie, then?” Luna whispered up at her sister.
A knock came on the door, shattering the moan-sprinkled silence. Celestia sat up instantly, nearly throwing her cute sister off, and fixed her bra.
“My princess,” a deep voice spoke through the door. “The time for the rising of the moon is-”
“Upon us, We know!” Luna shouted at the door, spittle drying on her lips. “UGH!” Celestia smirked as Luna fell to her chest again, gently nuzzling into her sister’s tits. All fearful inhibitions the sun princess had before had melted with her heart. Nothing evil could be that adorable. And, admittedly, pretty damn sexy. Luna’s perfectly adequate breasts pushed into her tight-fitting cotton shirt, as did the rest of her torso. The garment fit her like a glove. Celestia was in love with the idea of taking it off slowly.
She shook her head. There wasn’t time to even cuddle. “Take a coat, sister,” Celestia said, rubbing Luna’s back gently.
“We will, sis- I will, sister. The high speech has changed in my absence... I have noticed. It is... not difficult, but annoying. The slang is easy enough, especially the gangster shit, but, I can hardly use that outside of bed, now can I?”
“You’re doing wonderfully, Luna. If you get a minute, and if you, ya know... want to, I’ll sleep right here.” Celestia let her longing out through her eyes. Luna saw, and returned it. The intimate air was thick and warm, like a nice cup of hard cider, or a thick, warm latte with some brandy in it. Celestia knew she could use a drink and a poke.
“Don’t open that cabinet tonight,” Luna barely whispered. “Alcohol inhibits clear dreams.”
I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but dammit, that’s just freaky. Celestia smiled and cocked her head, knowing full well of her little sister’s perception. “You saw me just glance, and you deduced that much?”
“You could not deduce that We-I wish to enjoy your dreams-” Another knock. “ONE MOMENT! Fuckin A. I shall explain in a few hours, all right? We are-” Luna shook her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tight. “I am sure I will have much paperwork to do. After that, however,” Luna said with a softening tone, her pretty teal orbs begging Celestia. “I’ll see you, alright?”
Celestia just nodded, looking over her little sister’s ever sexy, slim body. Celestia knew she herself had a little cushion for the pushin, and that shit was no good. “Tonight,” Celestia echoed softly.
Luna gave her sister an intimate kiss, no tongue, and left in a hurry, nearly forgetting her coat.
Celestia flopped heavily back onto her bed and closed her eyes to the light. She was too damn horny to just leave it be, but she was too damn tired to not to. She sighed and opened her eyes. The beautiful mural on the ceiling was a reminder of her sister’s talents.
But Luna doesn’t have double E-cups. Celestia smirked and sat up, her long, long hair an absolute mess. She held her heavy breasts and considered contacting a boyfriend on demand. She thought and thought about how good a nice, hard, throbbing cock would taste, feel inside her. Celestia squirmed in place and didn’t fight the flood of perverted thoughts. Her womanhood throbbed, hot for a touch. She knew most males she would call up would be intimidated. All would, who was she kidding? It wasn’t every night that you got to bone the fucking princess.
There was always her vibrator. Even if Celestia knew just how to tickle her own spots, she thirsted for a hung man to do it for her. It sounded selfish, yet right, a servant of her desires. In all her reign, Celestia had never had a steady relationship. Maybe, just maybe it was time to start.
The princess paced, turning over her thoughts. They traversed the earthly problems of finding a solution to the tax question, health care, the degrading social media, to the personal realm of her loneliness. She felt like drinking, but her best friend in the world told her not to, and she must oblige. Celestia knelt and looked at the closet door, and for some reason, tried to remember the contents beyond the white room.
“Let’s see... It’s been a while since I ever even looked in there. Clothes, old stuff I should sell or donate, probably. Hmm, could be good PR, the princess at the thrift shop. Suitcases, shoes, more shoes, jeez, what else?” Celestia smiled to herself and got up.
Just beyond the white door was a walk in closet, messy and a little dusty, unlike every other place in the castle. Celestia pulled a chain and her mouth dropped. The musty room was bathed in light, revealing clothes, shoes, more shoes, suitcases, an ancient printer (where the heck did that come from?), tacky blankets, dolls, some books, and the most precious of all, an old clarinet.
No way were the reeds still good. She could get some, she was sure, from the Equestrian Royal Philharmonic store room. She flipped the latches open on the dusty ebony case. They were stiff.
Celestia closed the two latches and brought her old instrument into the room, taking a beginner’s beginner book with her. She knew she knew the theory and notes and all that, but it couldn’t hurt to cheat. After calling for a set of Mitchell Laurie 2.75 and 3.0 reeds, and not answering any questions as to why, Celestia set about assembling the black instrument. The clarinet was a Buffet Clopton, a top of the line dust collector. Celestia grinned as she remembered just how to assemble it. She managed to get the ligature working as a familiar servant brought her her request.
“Here you are, my princess,” Maya, the best maid in the caste, said as she knelt, holding a selection of clarinet reeds up.
“Thank you very much, Maya. I’d offer for you to stay and converse, but I’ve had a long day. I really appreciate your swiftness,” Celestia said with a gentle hand on her chin. The way her pretty young servant blushed made the princess smile wide.
“Y-you’re mery velcome, m-my princess. Have a wonderful evening, my princess.” Maya’s face was completely crimson as she stumbled out, the smooth softness of her features like the surface of an inviting alien planet. Celestia clung to that image and closed the door behind her now clumsy subject. She really was cute, like her sister, but not as drop-dead gorgeous.
Celestia unfolded a chair and dragged out the old music stand from the closet. She was surprised at the readiness of the reeds. It was as if someone had wet them just for her. They tasted a little sweet. Had Maya done this?
The princess giggled as she chose to believe just that, then frowned as she was trapped in solace again. She stuck the 3 reed, a bit thicker than a beginner’s reed, in the ligature and fastened it perfectly flush. Celestia cleared her throat, stuck the wood on her teeth, and blew.
Nothing came but a duck call. Celestia coughed and fixed the neck piece, then tried again, getting an airy, but functional, tone. She blew with some more air and got the full, round tone she was aiming for.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Now, if I could just remember...” Celestia trailed off and tried some fingerings, managing to play a C scale. She fought to remember all fifteen, which was really twelve, keys. Then the minors, mixolydians, and even dorians. She knew the B locrian, and that was her favorite. She didn’t need any other keys, as this was the easiest. Celestia played the hauntingly beautiful low tones, feeling her heart reverberate as she fluttered up and down with amazing grace. The minor she played surprised herself greatly with it’s simple, delightful mood.
The book, Celestia found, was insulting with it’s simplicity. She dug and dug in her cluttered closet until she found a book of advanced etudes and another with famous solos, all at least fifty years old, some nearing four hundred.
Her thumb stopped on an old polka-esque tune, but it wasn’t lame. No, the solo Carnival in Yokeskal was very fun. She played through the old tune with her full, fun, rich tone. The instrument warmed to her breath and gave forth it’s beauty freely. Before Celestia knew it, her throat was sore from playing. She sipped some water and sat down with renewed excitement for the instrument.
“Come on,” she said to herself. “What’s the most challenging... no, that’s WAY too much ink. That looks... no, fuck that time signature, I can’t figure that out right now. That’s boring... too hard... Oh, that... yes. Yes, this one!” Celestia set her large solo book down and stretched her fingers. On her right thumb was a red mark where the support dug into her skin. She didn’t care about that for the moment. “L’Guérisseur Sauvage,” Celestia read aloud. “Something healer,” she said to herself. “I need to work on my Fancy.”
She tapped out the beat, a good bit slower than 120 bpm, likely close to half that. The theme was serene, somber, haunting, dark, and lovely. The long and short notes fed each other well. She got the melody in her head before tackling the variations.
All but the last variation, with it’s sweeping arpeggios and frequent break-jumps were tough. Celestia was too out of practice to play it. The three other variations were the perfect mix of challenge and dancey play. The triplets of the second variation were especially fun.
Her face sore and her throat humming the lovely tune, Celestia wiped the inside of her instrument clean with the pull rag. She shined the wood with another, then finally, shut her case. Damn brass players don’t have to deal with this shit, Celestia thought to herself. The old band gripe reminded her of when she would sit in on the Philharmonic rehearsals, incognito of course.
All of the players, as freakishly talented and professional as they were, were mere band kids in tuxedos and nice dresses. Celestia loved one quiet woman in particular. Celestia thought of her face as she undressed for bed, and of her curvaceous body as she slipped under the covers in just her nightgown.
“Octavia...” Celestia mouthed as she shut her eyes, feeling the loving caress of her sister’s tender hands. “And Luna...” the day princess knew her sis was out in “the disk”, the unofficial name for the official royal office, signing petitions and reading possible bills and laws and all that horse shit. Celestia turned and tossed for a little longer, wishing a lovely lock of blue hair would tickle her nose, or a band of black hair would get stuck in her lips. Neither the sexy cellist nor the perfect midnight princess was in her bed, and that was the norm. Celestia thought of that creamy red planet surface, what sweetness it would taste like on her lips as she drew away.
* * *
“Impact with the planet surface: T minus forty-seven seconds, Captain,” a cold female computer voice stated. Celestia opened her eyes as alarms rang in her ears, sounding just like the blaring beep of Luna’s alarm for the evening, as faint as she heard it every night around two hours before sunset.
“Computer,” she said without knowing what she was going to say next. Her mind was sharp, though, and she was in control of the uncontrollable craft she found herself of the captain of. “Plot a course of all flat terrain. Water, if possible.”
“Scans state approximate moisture on surface at zero percent, Captain.”
“Then flat ground, I can already see rocky outcroppings.” A bright blue bolt tore through the atmosphere, missing the cockpit by less than a meter. “AND GET US THERE SAFELY!”
“Affirmative, Captain.” She hated that voice already. Captain Celestia, that was what she called herself now, as she knew just what was going on, turned and suited up in an instant. Her environment suit hugged her body close. Good thing she didn’t have those love handles anymore. Her admiration for the skin-tight suit was cut short by a hated female voice. “Impact in T minus thirteen seconds, Captain.”
“Shit!” Celestia strapped a full canteen and her trusted Protonic Inversal Atomization Ray. The sun’s Captain slung her weapon across her back and strapped into the pilot’s chair.
“Impact with Mayanmare surface imminent, Captain. T minus twelve seconds.”
“SHUT UP, I KNOW IT!” Celestia strapped in tight and stared at the shaking planet surface in front of her. Another blue bolt flew across her small craft again, this time taking a chunk of the cockpit. Had Celestia taken another second to admire her perfect ass, she would have been blasto’d. Her suit threw up a protective bubble around her head, saving Captain Celestia from certain suffocation.
A bubble of calm surrounded Celestia and her newly convertible spacecraft, protecting her as friction-heated wind tore her ship to shreds. The last thing she saw before hitting the planet’s surface was the subtitles of her ship’s computer: “T-minus 3 seconds, Captain.”
“Stay ready, ensign. Even if it just came down, there could be loot onboard.”
“Or, maybe, a survivor waiting in ambush, Captain?”
“That too! Keep your head on a swivel, ensign.”
Celestia risked a peek from the rock she hid behind. She saw the pair coming from a ways off, one a hulking male and the other a rather slender female.The sun baked Celestia in her suit, making a light sweat break out all over her. Princess Celestia’s skintight outfit was definitely more of a curse than a blessing.
The red, silty surface of the planet left clear tracks. If the lady was charismatic enough to get her imbecile leader to follow them, Celestia would have to... do what?
Princess Celestia knew it, but she didn’t want to think about it. She loved people, and she didn’t want to kill them. She would, however, never let on to that, not when her livelihood was on the line. She clicked the safety of her Protonic Inversal Atomization Ray to off, lest the O-1 be perceptive enough to notice.
“You go left, I’ll go right,” the mouth-breathing captain ordered, his hushed whisper projecting just fine. Celestia silently coiled herself up and prepared to strike. No doubt he would be fearful, so his finger would be ready on a hair trigger. Celestia plucked up a fist-sized rock and prepared to throw. The pair circled, only one set of feet readily audible. The man was coming around to her strong side, her left, but Celestia didn’t know if that was a good thing. She’d have the first shot, but could not guard her flank. No time now, fatty was almost upon her.
Suddenly, she could hear the ensign, and held her breath. Celestia gripped her weapon tight and looked up, her side grinding into the red rock, and she wanted nothing more than to just melt into it, become a big hunk of red stone and throw her hunters off.
The soft crunch of boots slowed both in front and behind her as Celestia rose to a sprinter’s ready. The pale blue toe of the captain came in view, just a foot away, and Celestia attacked. She launched her projectile, striking hard in his bulging upper arm, making his energized shot go wide. Celestia stuck her PIAR in his sweaty, oily, fatty face and pulled the trigger gently, warming up the protonic propulsion core.
“Drop it, dear, or I’ll paint a cone of the ground a nice grey-matter pink.” Celestia stared death at the blond captain. She quickly stepped behind him and ground the hot muzzle into the side of his head, hooking it through his open visor.
“Drop the weapon!” She barked at the female, aiming her M999 expertly, shoulders rolled forward, cold determination distinct in her eyes, clear as day through her visor.
Celestia sighed internally with relief when she did so. “Alright, alright,” the captain muttered definitely. “What is it you want, huh? What do we got that you need?”
“I need to not be dead, you slick prick.” Celestia pressed the now hot muzzle harder into his head with the intent to brand. “And the two of you probably need the same, no?” Celestia let the patronizing tone she hated to use come through strong. “Now. You, ensign. What’s your name and why are you creeping up on crash survivors?”
The helmeted ensign held her hands up and gently responded: “My name is Ensign Octavia, and that question is better left to my superior.”
Celestia admired her coolness as well as her curves. Her name was pretty, too. “Alright,” she agreed. “And?” Princess Celestia questioned, digging her weapon a little less harshly into his scalp. She took care to stand back as she restrained him, lest her large chest provide any cushion for him to lean back into.
“T-that’s classif-fied-”
“You’re fried if you don’t spill it, boy!” Celestia’s gut wrenched tight with sick as the smell of singed flesh drifted to her nostrils.
The shaking captain’s sweat did nothing to douse the fire. “Ow! Okay, okay! We were following the ray to the DCC when we saw your ship come down right in front us. We kept walking along and came to your ship, assumed you dead, then sought to air on the side of caution, okay?! FUCK that’s hot!”
“We can talk about my two-pack later, captain.” Celestia shoved him forward and clicked the safety on. With no finger on the trigger, the circuit opened and let the crystalline glass inside her weapon cool. “Now, I never got your name, what I originally wanted from you.”
The captain righted his unfortunately tight suit, the blue folds hugging his bulges a bit too well for comfort. “Toru. Captain, Toru. And you’ve already learned my co-pilot’s name, so that just leaves yours, love.” Celestia suddenly hated the “L” word. “Please, your prowess for combat in the face of adversity intrigues and excites me.” His coffee breath was nearly as detestable as what may have been a legitimate pass. Celestia wished his helmet was airtight.
Celestia depressed a button on her weapon, automatically folding itself compact into a metallic box, perfect for the holster. “Celestia. Miss Celestia of the Equestrian Royal Space Command,” Celestia read off the label on her perfect suit.
Octavia snapped right to attention, bringing her right arm to the royal salute of a straight hand, no palm showing. Toru sluggishly followed suit. “My Princess,” Octavia said with diction. Her freshness from the academy, or whatever officer school was called today, was apparent but useful. Celestia brushed off some dust from her arm and looked the pair over.
“Carry on, you two.” The princess for once felt justified for being respected. She was a badass with a nice ass. “Captain,” she addressed him directly. “What’s this DCC, and does it have anything to do with the violent blue plasma bolt that grounded me?” Celestia wasn’t certain what really took her down, but that was likely related. She had a hunch.
The duo in now somewhat familiar uniforms relaxed some, retrieving their weapons. Celestia noted that Octavia could easily bend over and reach her toes. “Yes,” Toru said with his less than humble tone. Celestia disliked him already. “The DCC is a big, odd place. Not many know much about it, and those that do seldom speak of it. Or, so I hear. It’s a mystery, the DCC.”
“Princess,” Octavia spoke gently. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Yes. From now and until otherwise stated, speak freely. I hardly think military tradition would be prudent, Ensign. What is it?”
Octavia smiled a beautiful little smile, her stern face cracking inside her head gear. It contrasted greatly with the navy blue helmet she wore, like a flower in a new sidewalk. “Direct Control Center. That’s all we know about it for sure, it’s name. All the magnetic readings and instruments follow a ray from the northwest to the southeast, but only along this path. The magnetic field’s flow. Dust clouds, the sands, there’s evidence of it everywhere.” Octavia stared along the beam, directing Celestia’s eyes. She stepped behind her and saw it right away. A crease in the sand, definite but faint. She could even feel it in her core, a fluid flowing through her like a strong, slow river past a pebble.
Celestia looked down at her tattered and charred suit, wishing Toru wasn’t around to see the unmarred but dirty skin she showed. Octavia would be a welcome companion, especially without that fool. Still, an extra gun, a loyal gun, would surely come in handy on this journey of unknown distance. Celestia seriously hoped the DCC was in the mountain to the southeast, less than a day’s journey, maybe.
“I feel it,” Toru said. Celestia turned and looked down at the inertially enhanced captain. “Yes, it’s undeniable. There is a force drawing everything along this invisible path.”
Nothing new, Captain. Celestia fought to not roll her eyes and began walking without a word. Two sailors in tow, they were finally on the ray, the path.
“So, Princess,” Toru began, putting on his shining armor. “I take it your mission involved this planet’s DCC somehow, no?”
“No.” Celestia said flatly. “I have no clue why I’m here, and I just want answers. Seeing as you don’t have them, I recommend you shut your trap.” Celestia wished she wasn’t leading. Her butt felt the weight of admiring eyes.
Thankfully, Toru followed her advice. Octavia was either used to not offering her input, or had none; it was likely both.
As six feet crushed dust and pulled the mountain range closer by the hour, the sun began to go down, but slowly. It felt like many hours had passed, the shared canteen emptying one precious sip at a time. The flat plains were dotted by imprints and the faintest signs of civilization; decayed bits of wood, a length of rusty barbed wire, a door knob, a yoke that was mostly splinters. Celestia nearly stumbled on a bit of metal jutting out from the sand.
Once, they came to what must have been a trading outpost. The remnants of a fairly well used road joined the path of the beam through town and a dozen or so miles beyond, it was hard to tell. Nothing but broken glass and rust was left of the town, not even any signs. The road led to a sort of sudden badlands, a sparse dusting of rocks, giving away to an infant canyon, it’s creation stunted by lack of moisture. A river may have ran through after a flooding desert rain long ago, but the dirt was long since bone dry.
The trio trekked on, wary and hot and thirsty in the desert heat. The red sands grew orange as they found themselves on an ancient road, nothing more than a flatter track of dirt following the ray, even through the shallow canyon, whose walls stood less than double the height of Celestia.
“Everything serves the ray,” Toru muttered. Celestia chose not to respond, or even act like she heard it. She walked on.
When Celestia heard a whistling noise, she assumed it was Toru being annoying, but that was hardly the case. Celestia stopped the detail and listened. The whistling lowered mechanically in pitch.
“Take cover!” Octavia shouted suddenly. Celestia sprang for a boulder to her left, leaving Toru in the dust. Octavia sprinted to a rock a little further away. To little surprise, a massive explosion thudded Celestia’s heart, spraying rock and sand all over.
She didn’t wait for the second shell to hit. She saw Octavia rushing forward as well, her weapon already drawn. Celestia followed suit and made for the rocky hills to the southeast as fast as her thick thighs could carry her. Sometimes, not often but sometimes, being over six feet tall and made of sexy had it’s disadvantages. Celestia’s legs ached long before Octavia’s, but she pushed on, keeping pace with her subject as she stormed ahead. Hectic analysis led Celestia to the conclusion Octavia made before the first shell hit. The shape of the craters indicated the motors, artillery, whatever was coming from the southeast. Beyond that, southeast was uphill and an advantageous direction to attack from. Why they ran towards it was unclear. Celestia’s frantic mind was yet to formulate a viable explanation.
The women slid to two boulders and got a peek at their adversary. We’re in range! The floating monstrosity looked like a demonic metal band mascot from hell, redundancies notwithstanding. The arguably living creature sported a missile battery on it’s shoulders, a minigun on its right arm and a left arm of some other weapon variety (that Celestia suspected could fire lethal lasers), and a body that seemed nearly organic, like burnt bark. Celestia ducked away from a burst of minigun fire, the small caliber bullets perforating the sandy rocks some and spraying Celestia’s hair with flakes and sand. She pieced together the enemy’s form from what her glance gave her, which was enough to a sharp mind.
The princess squatted down and made room for Toru as she concentrated her memory. The beast was floating, that much she remembered seeing right away. The black form looked like a triangle pointing down, at least in general shape, with two weapons swiveling around like arms from the wider top. A flying torso, Celestia thought. The details beyond the specific weapon types were hard to piece together, but the armor on the front looked like vines growing over one another. A weakness was likely to be found, but it might take some doing. Celestia checked her weapon as Toru unholstered his. The captain’s firearm seemed advanced, but Toru’s proficiency was yet to be proven.
“Captain, we need to spread out and flank this beastie. He’s got all his weapons on the front, so if one of us could distract it for only a few seconds, the others could land some serious shots on-”
“Are you thick in the skull?!” Toru shouted back, nearing hysterics already. “There’s no killing a gun demon! Even if you dismantle it and smash each fragment, every splinter could detonate independently. And that fuck will never run out of hate or ammo, how can we hope to defeat it?!”
The heck you just say, Captain?! Gun Demon?! What in the wide wide world of Eque- Celestia gripped Toru’s face as Octavia leaned out, sneaking one beam off before her rock was hit hard by a pair of missiles. Octavia slid down the cliff a little further than she was, her footing shaken by the explosion, placing her deeper in danger. She looked shaken already, but still useful. “Collect yourself, Captain.” Celestia was not in the mood for military courtesy. “Make yourself useful and circle north when I say go, keep low and sprint like your life depends on it.”
Toru nodded. He shook some dirt from his hair and readied his weapon while Octavia hid from a crackling of minigun fire. There was no hum from the minigun motor, the monster had no need for one. Celestia snuck a peek at the “demon” from the left side of her cover. It turned it’s head first, then it’s arms to fire a dual blast of lead and energy. Celestia’s heart was fluttering, hoping that her sandstone cover could last for a little longer.
“Alright, Captain.” Celestia overcharged her rifle and set herself ready to sprint. She held up a palm to Octavia, signaling her to stay put. “GO!” Toru took off with surprising, frantic speed, Celestia just as fast after him.
She knelt between her cover and Octavia’s and popped of a powerful shot, miraculously catching the missile as it fired from the near shoulder. It detonated violently, sparking a bit of a chain reaction. Three other missiles, the rest on that shoulder, also blew up in a vivid sparkshow. The gun demon lurched to it’s right, groaning out like an ancient and rusted suspension bridge in the wind. Celestia and Octavia let off as many shots as they could from their position, not doing any real damage to the possibly living surface. Black sap oozed from the new burns, but Celestia could tell those only pissed it off. The missiles blowing up, however, were a vicious right hook. Celestia dove and let another shot out of her proton rifle, momentarily draining the battery. It struck the demon’s head, but Celestia couldn’t see her hit’s effect as laser beams scorched the red rock’s edges black.
Celestia scrambled and sucked herself close to her cover, laying into Octavia to do so. There was barely enough room to protect one body. The demon sought to diminish their meager hiding space by pelting the cover with a constant flow of lead, and was doing so quickly. Celestia laid on the ground and pulled Octavia in front of her to save space. As Celestia lay on her belly, her head between Octavia’s legs, she looked up and saw the knowing and wanting look. Celestia returned a look of her own, unable to hide that desire. She was a terrible liar.
Toru’s shrill scream broke the tension instantly. Celestia plucked up a baseball sized rock and hucked it randomly, then took off when the robot/demon/living weapon reacted, blowing the stone to sandy dust.
Atop a small rise, Celestia was instantly spotted by one of the gross red eyes, strangely organic in nature, oozing orange pus or tears. Celestia had no time to tell as her new hiding spot was pelted by an endless barrage of lead. The horror’s shape clung clearer to her near memory. Celestia saw the demon clearly, a gnarled mass of slick black wood, the handle of a massive magnum with the firepower of an angry dictator. The head of the creature was indeed attached at a stubby neck, vines like tendons. It floated, eerily defying gravity, at least eight hulking feet of unknowable mass. The monstrosity was sure to hold a well of gunpowder, lead, brass, batteries, and Celestia didn’t know what else. This thing was evil.
A bright blue beam came from nowhere, punching the demon right in it’s minigun arm. Celestia sprang up and fired a three-second beam, draining her energy gun completely. When she ducked back down, the gunstrocity’s back had a huge gash the size of an upright beer bottle.
Another groan rang out, grotesque sounds of steel rope bending and wincing as the monster undoubtedly began repairing the deep wound. Celestia watched her weapon charge up again as Octavia sprinted to another rock further from the monster, gaining a powerful position. Toru had undoubtedly not moved, as the demon fired another missile where Celestia had seen him run. There could not have been many more rockets left.
No shower of blood nor death scream floated above the staccato carnage, just a crater and a decimated rock. The demon screamed a ear-splitting scream of nine inch nails dragged along a blackboard. Celestia watched, her PIAR quickly regenerating past 60%. The hole in the gunstrocity’s back was closing, but a reddish-green object glowed inside before the leadstrocity turned to fire at her.
It roared in rage again. Celestia hid and held the trigger at half-fire, over charging the core again, this time with a worthy purpose. As it’s lead and lasers turned to Toru again, Celestia lined up the same shot. Her bolt struck true, hitting the nearly closed wound, this time creating a larger and deeper gash. The demon screamed out and launched a volley of missiles at Celestia, forcing her to lunge forward. Two detonated feet from where she was, the third flew wide and hit a ways beyond. Stones and silt rained down on Celestia, deaf and in motion. She flinched as lead and lasers came her way again, hoping very much that they’d miss, feeling the slugs and beams barely miss as much as hear or see them.
As she slid down the short cliff face, a pair of hot bullets tore into Celestia’s suit, rocks tearing at her backside. She shouted as her chest was struck, but not when her arm was slugged with three lead pills. Celestia bled as she hunkered down at the bottom of the hill, fearing a missile attack. Celestia knew the demon’s one shoulder was out of commission, but his other obviously remained a giant threat.
Celestia laid on her back and checked the bullet hole in her chest. It seemed in a bad spot, but she found the weapon’s lack of penetrating power to be life-saving. Celestia sighed with relief, then winced in pain. Her gut might have a bit of lead in it, but if they couldn’t dig down more than an inch into her hard abs, she’d be fine. Her left arm, however, was in worse shape.
Celestia tore off the loose latex-like materiel and tied a band around her upper arm, pulling the shoddy knot tight with her teeth, tasting more of her own blood than she liked. Adrenaline pumping past capacity, Celestia only felt uncomfortable and rage.
Two subsequent blueish beams struck the demon in the head, giving Celestia an opening. She peeked up and blasted the other missiles expertly with an overcharged blast. Her atomization ray’s prototype effect finally took hold, disintegrating the demon’s body one molecule at a time into a single, independent atoms. Hydrogen reacted with oxygen and, after a tremendous fireball, created various liquids and vapors like hydrogen peroxide, water, other things Celestia didn’t remember. Carbon reacted with hydrogen and all other sorts of elements, sparking and sizzling and melting the demon on an atomic level. A horrendous bellowing scream rang out as the gut gunpowder detonated in a spectacular show, showering the entire rocky enclosure with fibrous bits, saving them the atomization. Glowing goop also splattered out, raining down in dangerous droplets. Celestia kissed the body of her weapon and laid back, smiling as pain seeped into her mind.
Octavia was on her, black bits of soot and bark in her dark hair and on her face and tight suit. “Princess!” she shouted, noticing the blood. Celestia followed her subject’s gaze and looked back up. Celestia smiled a little. Octavia looked nice without a dorky little helmet.
“Oh,” she fought to say. “That’s not healthy at all.” Suddenly, she screamed as the searing lead gave her a few seconds’ pain at once. Celestia fought and lost, dropping her head to the sandy rocks.
Author's Note
I'm in the Navy now. Sorry for the delay. Bootcamp.
Celestia opened her eyes slowly, feeling absolutely terrible. Her gut felt rotted, but physical inspection revealed no bullet holes or blood. However, her tongue heavy and sticky in her mouth. Her joints ached, the sheets were too hot. She rubbed her eyes and slipped out of bed.
Her sluggish steps carried her to the bathroom, her arms crossed under her heavy breasts. She lifted them as she sat down on the porcelain goddess, the lights off still. Celestia let her innards settle a bit. She stood, feeling a little calmer still, then forced some tap water down.
The dream remained vivid in her memory, every detail. It was eerie, but one thing seemed off. She flicked on the light, wincing as her lovely white marble bathroom was flashed with sudden white light. Celestia blinked and stared herself down in the mirror. She was gorgeous, absolutely. With a tiny smile, Celestia dropped her nightgown and looked over her nude self. Her heavy breasts sat well, responded gloriously to a strong squeeze, her nipples still perky and sensitive. Her sides, however, lacked the lovely tautness they once had. Celestia needed to lay off the sweets and implement a little more cardio, she reasoned. No one was perfect, right?
The princess of the day sighed, feeling much better with a little water in her. “Relax,” she told herself. “Just a strange dream.”
Celestia cocked her hip and shot that lady in the mirror a look. “Hey, beautiful,” she said to her. “What are you doing tonight, and why isn’t it me?” She laughed, feeling that youthful rush, just a little surge down below.
The princess contemplated retrieving a magazine from under her bed, maybe a little plastic entertainment. That fleeting feeling came and left as she returned to the bedroom, lit by moonlight through large stained glass windows. Celestia felt drained. She should be, it was just after one in the morning.
Still, there was no reason not to get a little fresh air. Celestia went to the door to the balcony, risking much by remaining undressed. She opened the green glass door and stepped out.
The moonlight lit her up like magic, bright as day. She looked up to a full moon, wondering if it was ever quite this bright. The white disc in the sky was enormous, awesome with it’s brilliance. She felt eyes on her, but didn’t mind at all. Lovehandles and all, Celestia welcomed the cold moon’s embrace on this warm summer night. Celestia lingered a minute on the balcony and drank in the night. A few visible stars danced over her capital city, it’s loving glow below shining all night. Canterlot never slept, and neither did it’s princesses. Someplace not far away, Celestia thougth with a soft grin, Luna was doing her job just like Celestia did in the day. While nights now were shorter and shorter with every coming day, Celestia found her workload that much heavier.
She didn’t mind, however. In the two years since Luna’s return, things were almost back to normal. A thousand years exile, however, changed someone. Celestia leaned on the railing, her skin crawling with a chill as she thought about how Luna had changed. The once happy girl was now much more edgy, in tastes and mannerisms. Her casual dress, her music, her way of acting was considerably different than Celestia remembered a thousand years back.
The volume of time, however, may have warped her memory, Celestia reasoned. In addition, Luna was never quite as sexually alluring, or active. The princess sighed a deep sigh, more sleepy than ever, and ran her hand through her hair. Luna grew up. Her sister was back for good, and that was a great thing. Celestia, despite the sliver of doubt, wholly believed in her sister. Luna was back, and that was great.
The princess retreated, feeling clean and refreshed, leaving the large door open and swinging on silent hinges. The room was a little musty, anyway.
The sheets welcomed her home, apologizing for overheating earlier by blanketing their ruler with a soft silken embrace.
“Relax,” a voice spoke from nowhere. Celestia looked around for it, staying still, turning only her head. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and obeyed as best she could.
“Relax,” the gentle feminine voice commanded. “Relax...”
The soft silk quickly pulled her down into a comatose embrace.
“Relax, sister. You’re not dying, you’re fine, if you pull it together. Look close at the trees, for a mere drop of a hat after the shot. Drop of a hat, that’s where he’s at, sis. Lead on, be strong, and get up. Get up, Celestia,-”
“DAMMIT! We can’t lose her! If she dies, the media is gonna say the two biggest fuckups fucked up big time, and we’re gonna get shitcanned in a big-”
“Captain! With all due respect, I strongly, respectfully suggest we focus.” Ensign Octavia held out her hand. “Canteen.”
“Say again, Ensign?” Toru asked indignantly, but obviously more in control.
Octavia looked up and saw the canteen in his hand, defiantly denying her precious water. “Captain, we can’t be hindered by customs and courtesies. Our leader’s life is in the balance and we need to work together to save her.” Octavia stared blankly at her captain, his face torn up from a fall he took after the battle. It was cosmetic damage, a little blood and dirt, that was it.
Ensign Octavia nodded her head, and the captain obliged. “Okay, Octavia,” he began solemnly. “Now, she’s seemed to lost a lot of blood. Let’s try not to use all the water for cleaning.”
“Agreed,” Octavia said shortly. She splashed a rag and wiped the worst wound in Celestia’s gut. The lead slug was only halfway skin deep, protruding a quarter of an inch. The thin suits really did a lot more to protect than Octavia expected. Science was wonderful.
“It’s just a minor wound,” a familiar voice said. “Once they pull out the bullets, you’ll brush it off just fine, Celestia. You’re fine.”
The bullet came out easily, but the wound was gnarly. What normally would be fairly clean was surrounded by necrosis, even after such a short time. The demon’s metal was festering, evil in itself. Octavia felt a strange heat come off of the bullet, like it had only left the barrel a few seconds ago. Celestia’s skin, however, looked like it would heal without infection or complications after the hateful little slug was gone.
Celestia kept her eyes shut as Octavia led her superior through basic first aid, digging the still hellishly warm lead from her gut. It was painful, but the shock overall kept everything to a dull slate emulsion of discomfort.
“See?” Octavia said. “She’s already coming around.”
“Right, she’s... fine. Right? I think.” Toru winced at the sheer amount of blood that Celestia had lost. The orange silt was sprinkled brown with red all around Celestia’s midriff. Octavia had little trouble removing the bullets with her forceps, however, and pressed clean gauze from her meager medical bag into the wound.
It took all but the last gulp of water, but Octavia managed to keep Toru calm and clean Celestia’s bullet wounds. The lead gone, there wasn’t much else to do.
Celestia opened her eyes to see a tunnel of dark grey clouding everything, a small circle of crimson and white in the center. She blinked, successively clearing a little fog. The red was blood, the orange beyond was the damned planet surface, scraggly rocks ugly and jutting randomly, cut down by erosion to horrid shapes, oddly familiar shapes.
Flesh color, more olive and lovely than the gross orange-blood-brown was also there. Two military strong feminine forearms worked deftly at her side. Celestia attempted to sit up, grunting for such little work.
“Easy, easy,” a soothing, sisterly voice said. “You’ve been badly injured and lost a lot of blood,” someone else said, still female. “Don’t exert yourself.” Celestia shook her head, hearing that voice again.
“She should be positioned to encourage blood flow to the brain-”
“She’s awake. Sir.” Octavia somewhat respectfully dismissed.
“Captain,” Miss Celestia croaked, painfully coughing through a bone-dry throat. “Ensign,” she managed to say. She’d be damned if she was going to let cottonmouth inhibit her from addressing her savior.
With excruciating effort and pain, Celestia stood, her left arm nearly useless it hurt so much. The bullets had penetrated through the meat of her forearm and upper arm, leaving her bones intact, somehow. Celestia winced as she flexed her arm muscles experimentally. She gritted her teeth through it and stood somewhat erect. “Shall we?” she asked before turning and deciphering which direction was southeast. Her feet shuffled, but they moved to her command. It would take much more than that to keep the princess from her destination.
“Princess,” Octavia whispered. “You’re in no condition to walk anywhere, not without more assistance,” she pressed with worry. While being deliberate, Ensign Octavia yielded when Celestia scanned the horizon.
Captain Toru brushed sand off his knees, frowning at the sight of royal blood drying on them, as he stood as well. Celestia’s side burned as she looked into the distance, watching the sunset.
It was an eerie pink to the southeast, familiar and discontenting. It was as if Celestia knew that shade, a memory or something associated with the mild, pleasant hue, but exactly what escaped her like the DCC. But, she had hardly been at work finding this hub, and there was much to be done.
“If you squint,” Toru said, appearing at Celestia’s side with his gravel input. “You can make out a structure on the horizon, just beyond the crest of the valley. Princess,” he said authoritatively. “You’re an inch or so taller than myself. You can surely see it.”
She could see nothing but dark orange against pretty pink, her vision still clearing blink by blink. Celestia had a giant thirst.
“Lead on, Captain,” Celestia croaked. “I’ll keep pace as best I can until we find a place to camp down for the night.”
“That’d better be inside some place.” Octavia flatly added. “M-My Princess. You see, at night, we’ve encountered troubles.”
“Creatures,” Toru said definitely. “Much like mosquitos, only larger, and only at night in open air.” The captain took the head, taking the three on what Celestia hoped was the beam. A presence seemed to propel her along, other than the slight downhill slope, and she breathed a little more easily.
The captain continued. “We don’t know what they are, or why, but these gigantic insects... they devour at night. Hunters, is what we’ve called them.”
“Who’s we?” Octavia mumbled, so quiet Celestia could barely hear.
“Say again, shipmate?” Captain Toru asked over his shoulder.
Octavia cleared her throat innocently. “Sorry, frog in my throat. I was saying, could be that they hunt in packs. At night, when our guard’s down.”
Toru scoffed. “Of course that’s what they do. Fortunately, that’s what we do, right?”
“Hooyah,” Octavia said quasi-enthusiastically. Celestia giggled on the inside at the silliness of military. It was pointless, the lingo and battle chatter, but it did serve a little purpose.
She couldn’t really laugh, or hardly talk. Celestia’s skull was getting jackhammered from the inside, she was so thirsty. This DCC was a few day’s journey, especially if the canyon continued to gouge deeper into the planet’s surface. The going was painfully slow.
After what seemed like hours of slow descent and watching sandy rocks tumble down the cliff, Toru broke the silence. “Princess,” he said offhand, making Celestia frown. “Let’s make some small talk, shall we? Pass the time. What kind of movies do you like? Any hobbies? I’m a cricket man, myself.”
“Cap-tuh,” Celestia began, unable to downplay her thirst or tell off Toru. Her throat was too dry.
Octavia jumped in. “Captain, she’s lost a lot of blood, and she needs more fluids than we have. I recommend finding a stream first, then shooting the shit.”
Toru stopped the detail to shoot Octavia a scowl, but found a much stronger one from Celestia. Her head hurt so much, she could stare murder at anything not offering a big bottle of water.
“Find a stream first, aye,” Toru said, continuing on. “Ensign,” he called over his shoulder. “Take point. The terrain is getting dicey and you’re more... nimble, than I.”
Celestia could feel the death glare Octavia wanted to give the captain. He really wasn’t likeable, Celestia kept returning to in her dry mind. Always being abrasive, or some other thing. The princess forced herself to relax. She was stuck with them, like it or not. Besides, he had done his fair share to earn companion-rights. Octavia a bit more, but that was neither here nor there.
The trio made slow work of the rocky slope. What was a flat plain with a minor wound was now a steepening cliff face. Celestia’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and refused to come down, dried harshly by the setting sun. The mosquito creatures were yet to show themselves and prove their existence, but Celestia was worried about water more than anything. Nothing was quite like dying slowly of thirst.
The cliff was steep, nearly sheer at parts. Celestia squinted, making out distinct foliage between herself and the DCC in the distance. Plants meant water, it was that simple, right? Octavia noticed as well, pointing it out. The three hikers pressed on with new urgency. Everyone was thirsty.
Celestia fell twice on the descent, the first time not so far, merely scraping a knee and forced to wait while the others carefully caught up. The cliffs spun around her, changing colors, becoming more than bone dry, then soaking wet, cold and hot, the setting sun searing, then suddenly soothing. The princess found her senses sometime as Octavia and Toru caught up. They pushed on. The second time she fell, right before the sun touched the warm horizon, Celestia thought that was it.
Her knees gave out outright and she saw black as she fell forward. Adrenaline brought her around just in time for her to see the browner orange beneath catch her. Even though she tried to right herself, Celestia could only move her arms between herself and the cliff. Her elbows caved, and the wind left her in one rush as her chest impacted the flat surface ten feet below, her head whipping forward and kissing the rocks. She flipped around without meaning to and began to slide down the steep, sheer slope feet first, accelerating faster and faster. Her back was rubbed raw by the hundred feet sandstone surface she slipped over,her right wrist now exploding with pain, herself falling into a groove next to a ridge. Celestia managed to slow down by grinding the heels of her boots into the sandy rock, but not enough. The terrain curved to a flatly to a gentle level, then a sheer drop. Celestia went right over.
A hot, humid rush of air blew her long hair back as she fell towards a nearly circular bit of forested area, a hundred feet below or more. Celestia couldn’t scream as she plummeted to the canopy of swampy trees. The greenish-black-brown circle below grew and grew terrifyingly fast. Her lungs and breasts and other organs floated in freefall, a truly uniquely horrific sensation. Celestia felt a little hot wetness in her suit, and she realized her dehydrated body could barely piss itself.
She shook with fear, apprehensive of her own fate, but kept her eyes open. Falling wasn’t lethal, the deceleration at the end was. Celestia watched as the ground rushed up to meet her, gauging which tree would welcome her with hard branches and piercing needles.
It took just two and a half seconds for Celestia’s white-wrapped body to disappear into the foliage, but it felt like years. The princess held out her arms, rushing past a pointed treetop at extreme speed. Celestia felt a hard impact just above her right elbow, covered in thick blood from the landing earlier, and couldn’t ignore the pain. The impact flipped her around, making her tumble over and hit another tree with the trunk of her body, careening off randomly. She was still dropping fast, and the trees weren’t extremely tall.
Finally, her arm hooked into a branch that slowed her down, breaking off a sizeable walking stick. Celestia’s less injured limb struck for a branch and caught it by her bicep, catching it in her elbow.
It was the single most painful experience Celestia had ever endured. She groaned aloud, her body riddled with stinging pain, but finally motionless. Celestia fell again, her body and mind unable to endure the pain. Something else seemed off. When she reached out with her left arm, it didn’t move, just twitched and exploded with pain. Her foot caught something and flipped the broken princess about her center. She landed in mud, face up.
Her mind went blank. Blackness engulfed her in the shadows, figures dancing about her thickening tunnel vision like vile snakes. Celestia could not focus enough to move one muscle, yet endured. The pain was like an ocean, drowning the drop that she was in an endless sea of torment.
Through the ringing pain, the skull-shaking intensity of the fall, Celestia heard a pop, a bang, then a few more pops. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat, then that was it. A sort of annoying vibration, a hum she didn’t hear earlier, was now fading, then gone. Celestia groaned, finding her stomach to be the only operable muscle in her. She groaned for life, for those little sharp noises to take the pain away and save her from waking hell.
An angelic voice from someplace far away made a sound. It came again, more gruff and not the same. No, the second voice was not the same. It was a man, probably. Celestia only heard ringing beyond him.
It ordered something, so Celestia whimpered a little groan, obeying as best she could. A tiny prick in her neck was all she felt before feeling nothing.
The next thing Celestia knew, she could see something. The trees and red sky were moving. The voices stopped, but her body felt different pressures, at least she thought.
Soon, the red and black blur of a sky changed into a stationary bright, warm grey. The voices came back, and a wetness splashed her face. Her tongue uncemented, and Celestia felt some water go down her throat. It stopped, however, and thankfully she didn’t have to cough any liquid back up. Celestia could move her eyes a little, but her vision was down to basic colors. She could blink, and that helped, but not much.
She laid still forever, awake but unfeeling as voices floated from nowhere and everywhere, sometimes that sweet one from before. It was so familiar, but Celestia could only think of how scary it had been to slip off the cliff, the sensation of freefall lifting her innards and heavy breasts. Then there was the fall and the crashing, her bones and body broken and abused by imparting her kinetic energy to the unfeeling trees. They had saved her as much as the people, or things, that had carried her here and numbed the pain.
Celestia let her mind rest, grateful for a droning nothing to take over. Images of her sister floated into her head, of all things, the last loved one. Her clarinet, the wood taste of the reed on her tongue, it’s lovely dark sound reverbed in her mind’s ear. Celestia felt lighter and lighter as these vague concepts bounced around gently in her head.
Luna seemed to turn in Celestia’s mind, turning away and leading her forward. Celestia followed inside her waking mind, and her eyes opened. She did not realize they were closed.
The voices cleared up, hushed and cautious and inscrutable still. The royal vision returned steadily as well, the warm grey revealing just enough detail to become concrete. Shadows indicated a hanging light as well. Still no pain, Celestia thanked Luna.
A female, young, hummed with curiosity. “So,” Celestia heard. The rest of the inquiry was impossible to unscramble. Her mind was still fried. She heard the word “cast” sometime, and hoped they were talking of a bone-repairing cast in lieu of a death mask. Every second or century, however, Celestia’s senses unmuddied.
“Okay,” someone else said. Celestia saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye, but that was all. Second by second, her senses began returning. She could blink, look around, and even control her breath if she really tried.
Celestia found that pain began to return. Not the sharp jerking pain from the fall, but a harsh, chronic pain that occupied her body. She moaned out when it became serious, yelling as loud as she could for help, which wasn’t much. Both her arms and shoulders hurt so much, it was unbearable. Suddenly, Celestia’s limbs filled and held hot magma, searing her from the inside. She managed to moan out a little louder in anguish.
“Easy,” a soft voice said. “You’ve been through a lot,” she whispered.
Celestia found her muscles responding more and more by the minute. With a large effort, Celestia could look behind her a bit.
“What did I just say, lady?” The female whispered. She walked around on light feet to Celestia’s side, and for the first time since the fall Celestia could see somewhat clearly. It was a young woman, a girl, no older than fifteen or so. “You nearly died, missy, and I am a little surprised you’re in as good shape as you are. Even with the broken bones,-” WHAT?! Celestia screamed internally. She instantly reasoned that broken bones weren’t so unlikely. “and the bleeding, the dislocated shoulder, the-oh, maybe... heh. Maybe you don’t really need to know about all that.”
Like thick honey being slowly heated, the princess could use her sluggish body more, even if it hurt like hell. Unsurprisingly, it hurt to speak. “Who-” Celestia tried, her face on fire after the exertion. “... are you?” she croaked.
The girl with the dirty blonde hair, that really was dirty, twigs and everything, just leaned over and smiled. “Tree Hugger. I’m the copse’s best mudball player, best tree climber, prettiest girl, number one knot tier, band-aid puller, first-aid-giver-person, aaaand the leader of the last Americans. Who’re you?”
The last beams of a hot summer’s sun trickled to through the swamp canopy. Celestia sipped what tasted like a cheap domestic, doing her best to not gag, and tried to enjoy the music. Luna would surely know the song, but she herself had no clue. The first guy on the rap song was vaguely familiar like the other two, and the beat was very catchy. She smiled and bobbed her head, happy to be healthy again. The music reminded Celestia so much of her sister. She’d know every line, there was no doubt.
The royal muscles were stiff, but she felt much better today. Tree Hugger was set on staying with the princess, extremely interested in everything to do with her. When Celestia could sit comfortably, she never saw anything but an energetic teen barraging her with endless questions. Where was she from? What was the castle like? Why was it called Equestria, and then onto every event that happened there since the nation’s inception.
Then it was onto hair, boys, girls, food, music, boys again, sports and movies and boys and technology and history and boys and bands and boy bands and boys.
At first, Celestia was fond of the company. The little copse’s swamp tribe was diverse as well as welcoming, holding a little “barbeque” or “bee bee kew for short” for her, whatever that was. They were grilling some swamp-caught dinner. As their guest, it would be social suicide to deny, especially since she had come back on their biggest holy day, the “4th of July”. Tree Hugger said it was Independence Day, but didn’t, or couldn’t, specify from what. Or, for that matter, who was independent from whom.
Celestia was sat at a splintered, rotting wooden table cluttered with plastic plates and plastic cups, nothing clean. She had gulped down surprisingly pure tasting water and, when she had her fill, had tried the beer. She never liked beer.
The festival featured all sorts of food, however. Swamp rat, turtle, some bird, frogs, frogs, more frogs, and even a small alligator. Celestia found the carnivorous fare to be fairly satisfactory with a little swamp ingenuity. Dried wood crackled in a steel grill that infused a smoky, hearty deliciousness into every scrap of food. There were even small amounts of homegrown rice and beans that Celestia wasn’t especially fond of.
All around the little picnic-type area, little electric lights in every tacky pastel hue hung on twisted cords. They dimly shined above a little space in the flat area behind the only building Celestia knew of.
Made entirely of concrete, the impervious structure was called “Home Base”. Tree Hugger explained it was once a mechanic’s garage with an extensive storage capacity. The warehouse portion housed building material, shelving, and even a back stock of useful tools in abundance. The entirety of Home Base had been turned into living and common quarters since it’s discovery. The power in the building was still on, and no one knew why, least of all Tree Hugger (Celestia’s newest best friend.) No matter how many scavenged and tinkered electronics were plugged in, no breakers flipped.
There was music of all sorts played on an ancient device called a boombox, everything from hiphop to twangy rock ballads to party songs. Celestia liked it for the most part, and even tried to dance (when begged and begged by Tree Hugger). This was a bad idea, and Celestia had to sit down, holding in tears from agonizing pain in her ankle and wrist. She wasn’t close to one hundred percent. She had foolishly forgotten that walking alone was agonizing.
Whatever the swamp folk did to mend her wounds, however, was nothing short of a miracle. Celestia did not know the full extent of her injuries, but they were grave, if not terminal. She owed Tree Hugger and her friends her life, that was a certainty.
Tree Hugger’s people numbered thirty-four, with skin every color of the rainbow. The tight group had minimal animosity towards anything, it seemed. No one really complained, and Celestia noticed that no one was needlessly abrasive. Playful teasing was in abundance. She thought that at some time, some would go stir crazy.
When asked about her fall, which was with the widest eyes, the music stopping just for her, Celestia disappointed her captivated crowd of all ages and races. She knew so little herself, especially about the time before her crash. There was no indication that Octavia or Toru had been seen. That was a bad sign, but they could still be en route, maybe even nearby, spying. There were enough possibilities. Celestia apologized and promised the people and herself she would return, if and when she had answers from the DCC.
No one seemed sold, however. “No one ever comes back from the DCC,” some little boy said. She was struggling to learn names. Celestia seemed to think his started with an M.
“It’s just a giant people trap,” an ancient woman said, skin black as a moonless night, her accent thick to the point where Celestia found it nearly inscrutable. The music kicked back on mid-song. Her name was Grandma something, Celestia couldn’t recall, and her loose nightgown-like garment made her weight hard to place. If her bony face was any indication, Celestia thought the old woman weighed likely less than one hundred pounds on or near the surface of Equestria.
She thusly gauged this planet had the same gravitational acceleration, more or less, but it was quite hard to tell. Celestia reasoned her fall would have given her a good indication, but the overwhelming fear biased her perception. Her thoughts still took much to piece together, and learning things like new pleasantries and names and customs was trivial by comparison.
Celestia shifted in place, noticing there wasn’t dust in every awful crevice of her suit. Had they- She pushed that thought away for the moment. “How far away is it?” Celestia asked. “I need to get there as soon as possible.” The little M was fiddling with two twigs, uninterested.
Grandma Nameless shook her head sincerely. The boy was smacked by a littler girl, and they ran off, screaming, brandishing fists. “Wish I knew, darlin’. From the bottom of my oldy achy heart, I wish I did. But likes I said, ain’t no one never come home from dere.”
The royal heart sank a little. She recouped, and remembered that she had no intention of ever coming back. She wanted to leave , as did most other travelers who came through here. “How many?” Celestia asked.
“Two,” Grandma said.
“Just, two from your group, or two ever, as in people that showed up-”
“Two, darl, just da two. A strappin’ young gennleman named, oh, Matthew something some, and his lil dove. Dey was like yous, just fall from da sky. We carried ‘em to d’Hotel Bu-ravo rahere and gave dem two da healin wada- jus like you had. But boy oh boy, I can’t say them two were in as bad shape as you, sweetie. MMmmmmnah, yous was half-past dead when lil Tree Hugguh foundja.”
“You’re welcome,” the culprit said, eyes crossed.
“Thank you,” Celestia said. She wondered briefly about the healing water, what silly superstition that had behind it. Still, she was healed, by it or other means. Celestia put that thought on the back burner. “If I have not said thank you before, please, allow me to say it one million times mo-”
“NOPE!” Grandma nearly shouted. “No need, darl! Heh, das what we do,” she said and leaned forward far in her wicker chair. “Das, de Americ’n way. Hospitality, equality, punctuality, an- aw shoot, ya in good hands, darl. Don’chu fret none.”
Celestia sat up, astonished. She wanted to thank her and Tree Hugger and everyone else a thousand times again, even if she did nothing but that while she found herself coherent again. Of course, she’d set off for the DCC the first chance she could, but until then Celestia just wanted to host some sort of celebration for them.
But, she wasn’t in Canterlot anymore. Celestia felt fleeting homesickness for the first time, recollecting that she did not have the royal catering service and party planners on constant standby.
“Now,” Celestia said, setting her lukewarm adult beverage beside herself on the splintered bench. Questions buzzed madly around in her mind, something took priority. “I have to know one more thing.”
“Shoot.”
Celestia scanned the little enclosure or clearing or picnic or “bee-bee-keyew” pit and found most everyone was huddled around a small bonfire and drinking and playing and telling stories. The fighting children were now sitting next to each other on a beverage container, a cooler she heard it called. (It cooled drinks, that was simple enough of a name.) Someone had an ancient guitar, strumming as everyone sang some ballad called “Sweet Home Alabama,” wherever that was. It was annoying. “I was not alone,” Celestia said in a quasi hush. “I’m looking-”
“Say again, darl?” Grandma spout. “Left ear’s a lil deef, ya gotsta speak up.”
“Have you seen anyone else?” Celestia asked a bit louder. “From away? In clothes like mine?”
“Now why would we have some cloth-oh!” Grandma rocked back, a big grin on her face. “Nah, nah chile, I ain’t seen nuthin. Corse, I can’t see much nowadays, not since my glasses dun up’n found the concrete.”
“You got seperated from your friends?” Tree Hugger gasped, wide-eyed. “OH! No! I bet you’re a super spy that jumped off that cliff to lose your pursuers!” Tree Hugger hopped up on the bench and knelt down, her long khaki shorts protecting her knees. “What kind of secrets do you know, huh? Who’s super secret secrets? Got any sweet gadgets?” She grabbed Celestia by the chin and hooked two fingers around her bottom teeth, all while Grandma laughed and laughed. “Where’s the microfilm, you dirty spy?!”
Celestia struggled, gagging at the taste of dirty fingers in her mouth, and managed to shove Tree Hugger off, her hands pushing off hard on the younger woman’s almost flat chest. Tree Hugger fell back into the dirt, laughing and getting right back up, ready to tackle the spy.
“Stop!” Celestia begged, her shoulders on fire, her ribs and jaw in unbearable pain. “I’m not a spy!” Celestia begged. Tree hugger hopped on the bench haphazardly, knocking Celestia’s drink over.
“I was just playin’, geez,” Tree Hugger said, rocking the bench some. “But,” she said in a sudden hush, drawing the attention of a pair of younger girls. “Are you f’real a commie spy? I won’t tell, I swear. Honest.”
Celestia found Grandma was listening closely, as were at least three others. “No,” Celestia said solidly. “Why are you all so concerned with spies? And what even is a ‘commie’?” She asked, confused and uncomfortable.
“Cos,” Tree Hugger said. “We can’t let them steal our intelligence! Dur, geez.”
“What?” Celestia asked. “Is that it? What- I don’t... Intelligence?”
“Don’ worry bout it no, chile,” Grandma said quickly.
“No,” Celestia said, hurt. “If I’m in your care, I want to know the risk of being here!” Celestia demanded. She wasn’t concerned about spies, so much, but she had absolutely no knowledge of her predicament. All she knew was that these people knew of the DCC, likely the best path to the same, and they camped on and in a solid concrete base in the middle of a swamp microclimate in the middle of a waterless planet she had no recollection of. Celestia was fuming with frustration at the lack of intelligence, and if these barbaric simple-minded miracle workers had some, she’d rather fry their brains than go ignorant. Now, the princess realized at last, she was unarmed.
Celestia felt naked. During her short time here, she had never been without her energy weapon.
Tree Hugger giggled, a grin slowly creeping across her young, dirty face. She produced a bottle labeled “Budweiser”, twisted off the top and pocketed the cap. “Come on, Grandma Sparkle,” she said. “She’s got a right, doesn’t she? I mean, she owes her life to the nan-”
“No,” Grandma Sparkle said. “She doesn’t need ta know, so she ain’t gonna! And das dat. And for Gad-sakes, chile, you know yo too yun ta drink dat, givit up. A lil girl like you ain’t got no bidness wit beea anyway. Whatchu, right bout sixteen?” Tree Hugger nodded proudly. “And help yo Grandma up, she gon’ getterr beauty sleep nah.”
Tree Hugger took an extra big gulp and shoved the bottle into Celestia’s chest, giggling at the way the glass made her breasts move, hissing out a little “nice”. She belched an “okay” and sauntered to Grandma Sparkle’s side.
“Celly,” she mumbled as a caricature of inebriation. “I’ma take dis fiiine slice-a wine to bed, den we gonna mishmash da nee-na-no, kappich?”
Celestia just held Tree Hugger’s beverage away from herself, angry at the repeated violations of personal space, and sat still as she heaved Grandma up and out of her seat.
“I’ll be back in a sec, then we’re gonna talk, k?” Tree Hugger clarified, holding hands with her bony elder.
“Oh,” Celestia said, amused just a touch. “Got it. Would you like assistance?” She asked, slowly getting up, her joints and ribs still aching terribly.
“No, no, chile,” Grandma grunted. “No, yous seen enough action f’nao. Maybe you shurest yaself, honey. And fo Gad-sakes, Tree Hugga, I said no talkin’ bout da damn needta know! I know yous in charge ”
“Shhhhh,” Tree Hugger said, nearly dragging Grandma inside. Her able little frame looked like it could carry the sack of skin and bones.
The ladies disappeared inside, and the handful of rubbernecks snapped back to what they were up to immediately, no one admitting they were listening to the entire exchange. Celestia blushed a bit. Alone and unarmed, she felt more vulnerable than ever. She eased herself back onto the bench, feeling drained. Celestia sipped the beer and immediately detested the piss-flavored drink. She would gladly trade a dozen Budweisers for a decent pinot noir, or her PIAR.
She’d trade much to get that thing back. She had neglected to find her weapon. Had it even survived the fall? Was it back up someplace in the cliffs? Had the others found it?
Were the others coming for her? Were they dead? Had they, too, been found, being held captive? Did they fall and die, like Celestia thought she had?
The princess shook her head, wishing she could just lay down and pretend this wasn’t real. Thankfully, Tree Hugger appeared at her side before Celestia’s pessimism took any real root.
“Sup?” Tree Hugger asked, plopping herself next to Celestia, too close for casual, good natured, professional conversation. “Thanks,” the young one said flatly, snatching her drink from Celestia’s hand.
She took a long draft, finishing with a long “Ahhh”. “Nothin’ like a cold one and a hot 4th of July party, huh? Or a lukewarm one, I spose. Ya excited for the fireworks, Celery?”
“Celestia,” she instantly corrected. “And I’m not very interested in pyrotechnics, Tree Hugger. I need some questions answered-”
“And I need a girl who won’t change her number after the first date,” she replied without skipping a beat. “What’s ta know, Cellosky? Are you sure you’re not some sorta foreign spy?”
Celestia raised her eyebrow. This one sure was something. “Celestia. Also, as I said, I am a princess. I don’t know if you have those where you hail from-”
“Lookey here, princess,” Tree Hugger said indignantly, drawing in a big breath through her nose. “This here is the last scrap of America home of the free and land of the brave. We happen to have a diplomatic republic; no kings or queens or prime commissars or dictators of czars or grand master wizards or fat chicks or even princesses allowed. You’re more than welcome to stay here, pretty princess, but your name and rank don’t mean much. I was elected by the people, for the people. People comma we the, that’s who’s in charge. Now I don’t remember at all what we were talking about so say the words.” Tree hugger finished her thought by sipping some more beer.
Celestia blinked, intrigued and only a little insulted. “Very well,” she said. “First thing’s first: where’s my weapon?”
“Inside,” Tree answered.
“Where?”
“I just said, next question.” Tree sipped her beer again, much to Celestia’s annoyance.
“Okay. What’s inside there? You called it ‘Home Base’, right? And what was the healing water Grandma Sparkle mentioned?”
Tree Hugger shook her head. “I never said that, but you’re right, that there’s the Hotel Bravo, pardner. And yeah, we got healing water, no biggie, just a miracle or something.”
“Well?” Celestia asked, getting impatient. “What’s inside?”
“A kitchen, a bathroom and shower and some bunk beds, a pantry-”
“No, I know you live there, but what’s so special? Why is it made of thick concrete if all you do is eat and sleep there?”
“We do other things, too! Geez!” Tree Hugger swung her feet as she looked around.
“For the love of- then what was the need to know you were talking about?!”
“D’ya need to know?” Tree asked in a sudden serious hush. “Cuz it’s kiiiiind of a big dizzy.”
“Yes!” Celestia almost shouted, her head aching already. Tree Hugger was beyond adorable, but Celestia felt like squashing her like a bug.
Tree Hugger’s normally facetious and humorous face was sordid with seriousness. “Well then. Follow me, princess,” she said as she stood, leaving her beer behind on the bench. The tree hugger walked into the darkened innards of the reinforced concrete bunker, and the woman in tight nomex followed.
Leaving the dull party outside, Tree Hugger quickly walked around tight passageways and stacks of supplies and junk and cabinets, winding through rooms of all sorts with no hesitation. Celestia looked away from lovers openly consummating, an old man in the next room cooking potatoes, a pair of boys sharing whiskey and playing a violent game of some sort, then some unoccupied compartments with no discernable use. Trash was everywhere in what Celestia hoped was an organized chaos. Electronic gun blasts and loud music polluted the air around the area where they stopped.
Tree Hugger’s winding tour led to a clusterfuck of a room, clothes and garbage and pictures and other consumer detritus strewn about lazily. This space was particularly bad. Celestia couldn’t believe anyone could live like this.
“From this point on, what you see is tippy top secret, comprende?” Tree Hugger said, bending over a poster and pile of female underwear. “Not a fuckin word to any fuckin soul.”
Celestia nodded, still scanning the “I SPY” game of a room. The walls may have been green, but it had been a long time since any fresh paint was applied. Tree Hugger shoveled some debris out and away, revealing a small red handwheel. She turned and pulled with a grunting jerk, her tree climbing arms flexing with young muscles. The hatch came up and open, revealing a black opening through the ground.
“I think I got answers for ya, princess,” Tree Hugger said with a little burp. “I’ll follow you down,” she said, picking up a plastic toy from under a new pile.
“If you insist,” Celestia said softly, noticing the stale stench of standing water. She didn’t want to get wet, not in this place, not with stale swamp water.
“Good,” Tree Hugger said without happiness, her hands clutching a familiar pistol grip.
“Hey!” Celestia nearly shouted, her sides hurting from the effort. “Give me back my weapon!”
“No way, jose,” Tree replied, lifting her newly acquired Protonic Inversal Atomization Ray. Celestia did not enjoy seeing the proton vanes of her own weapon pointed at her. But by the hands of an untrained individual? Absolutely unacceptable.“Down to the brig with ye, ya scurvy shellback-HEY!”
A breaker in Celestia’s mind tripped someplace, causing a serious lapse in perception. The princess moved like a bolt of lightning, and she found her weapon tangled in the crook her right elbow, Tree hugger sprawled across some old pizza boxes and greasy t-shirts, the side of her left hand bruised and in unbelievable pain. Chronically putting up with her soreness was callusing, and Celestia found it not too hard to ignore anymore. Celestia quickly holstered it and helped Tree Hugger up, her surprised mind trying to piece together an apology. Celestia’s joints burned harshly.
“God fucking dammit,” Tree Hugger mumbled, getting up on her own power and favoring her left leg.
“Oh my goodness,” Celestia whispered. “Tree Hugger, I am so, so sorry, I-”
“That,” Tree Hugger defensively said, holding up her arms. “That was pretty cool. I don’t even care if you’re a spy anymore, hell, you probably fuckin are, but if you can kick my ass like that- ya know what?” she asked, defensive. “You can take the intelligence. I don’t even think it’s a...” Tree Hugger trailed off, her lips opening with slack.
“A.... what?” Celestia asked, uneasy. She found Tree Hugger wasn’t looking at her, but past her, and her hands were slowly rising, palms out.
Celestia turned and saw what she was going wide-eyed over. Tree Hugger was lifting her arms in surrender to two suited soldiers, officers in the Equestrian Royal Space Command.
“What kind of place is this?” Octavia whispered, checking every dank corner.
Tree Hugger stepped over a mud pile and replied: “I unno.”
Celestia gritted her teeth as she lifted her leg to climb over it. “Looks very solid,” Toru added. “Like some sort of facility one would want to last for quite some time.”
“Thank you, Captain Ob-, Toru. Your insight is useful these dark passageways.”
Toru waved his muzzle to a dark corridor branching off to the right, his assigned flank. “You’re very welcome, my princess.”
Darkness and decaying steel were all there was to be seen down beneath Home Base. Tree Hugger led on, Princess in tow with two trusted guards flanking her. They were saving how they caught up for a more private setting.
She disliked how water was everywhere, at least an inch deep. Splashing clinks of boots and soft, focussed breathing was the only sound, other than trickling water. Celesia nearly had to point her rifle’s built in flashlight right at the deck to not trip over bits of busted piping or mud deposits.
Tree Hugger, limited also by sight, had to take her time. This made for slow going. “What’s down here that’s so important?” Octavia asked in a whisper, checking another corner. “If you people live topside, why haven’t you put up a means to light this area?”
“I unno.”
“Alright,” Celestia said, stopping Tree Hugger with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn’t like the way her friend, savior, captor and sherpa flinched. It didn’t seem a healthy response. “Tree Hugger,” she said as warmly and gently as possible. “What exactly are we walking into?”
“I, uh,” she said, not turning around. “It’s better to show you. Come on, we’re close, I’ll explain when we get to the computer.”
“Finally, bitch,” Toru muttered. Celestia thought very hard about a giant pipe falling down and hitting his head just then. One did not. However, as they walked, Octavia discovered what seemed to be wired exiting a large box. When Toru gave the box a smack, the corridor exploded with bright light.
“Shit!” He screamed, then raised the butt of his rifle and drove it into the center of the metal box with all his might. Time froze as Celestia opened her painfully adjusting eyes. Toru’s gun slowly struck the panel, denting and crumpling it like it was foil. There was a horrible metallc bang, then a smaller, distinct glass crack. Instantly, the lights were out, and time may have gone back to normal. In the pitch blackness, it was tough to tell. The panel Toru struck might have hit the floor, a loud thud and splash may have indicated.
A furious rage simmered just beneath Celestia’s surface. She contained it through will, aided by desperate, draining frustration. She sighed, her sore muscles laxing to where standing was not guaranteed.
Octavia’s flashlight waved over Celestia’s face. She stepped near, placed a hand on her princess’s shoulder, and softly spoke. “Celestia, that was-”
“YOU FUCKING MORON!” Tree Hugger shouted, stealing the words out of Celestia’s mouth. “The lights came on! There haven’t EVER been lights down here! I could finally ‘splore down here right, but NOOOOO! No, this fatty tatty fucking daddy shitty bitty mother f-FUCK! I’m so mad I could-”
“Be quiet,” Celestia said. She was never denied. “If there’s something down here, which I’m not saying there is, he, she, or it know’s we’re about, and we’ve lost any advantage we may have tactically had. Those lights would have been a good deal of help.” Celestia lifted her weapon again, covering Toru’s chubby red face with a shaking circle of light. “If Toru’s incompetence did not decimate whatever electrical system that is, my guess is he broke the fuse. Come on. Nothing’s changed. We just lost our only advantage due to noise and light, and now we can’t explore easily at all. Let’s find that computer.”
Celestia turned, trudging through waist-deep contempt and loathing. She did not know the way to go, but no one else was inclined to take point. Tree Hugger did not correct her course, so either she also was going by blind instinct or they were going the right direction.
The president and companions continued on for several minutes in awful silence. The light splashing of eight feet on the wet deck seemed complemented by another pair, but it was hard to tell. When Celestia stopped the detail, there was absolute silence minus breathing. It was almost as frustrating as the captain.
They had taken quite a few turns, now. Metallic hatch after hatch, branching off in many directions, all with numbered nameplates that didn’t mean a thing to a foreigner. The only thing Celestia was sure of now was that in the now tight corridors, something had gone very, very wrong long ago.
Emerging into the first open space since the light panel fiasco, the detail stopped for a little break. Pitch blackness failed to describe this area. The walls were no longer close enough to reflect light regularly, so the flashlights might as well be laser pointers. No one said anything, but animosity and unrest were nearly tangible. The wet swampy smell was still strong, along with awful rust. At least there wasn’t any mud this deep. They set off again, after finding the large room’s obstacles of tables and chairs and other decayed things in haphazard. It was as if this place was hit by a tsunami, then left to rot in the sun for a few decades. As Celestia stepped over a rusted vending machine or refrigerator, she thought about how they deteriorated. It seemed unusual, like the corners and points were melted off like an ice cube’s angles. It was all very, very odd. Celestia thought about that as much as the fifth person following them. She was positive, even if there was no definitive evidence. The feeling of being watched was too strong.
The troupe went through another narrow passage, with a little bathroom and porcelain stub on the side. They emerged again in a large room, devoid of any drooping furniture or, or anything. There seemed to be a lot of pipes and valves and other fixtures, however. An electric green glow flickered from behind a tank or pipe. Tree Hugger gave a hand sign: index and pinky fingers flexing extended, the other digits clenched shut. She led on.
“Hokay...” Tree Hugger mumbled, turning the corner to find a raised metal platform. The computer terminal was at one side of the square stand, it’s space enclosed in a puny, rusting railing. Tree Hugger swung her legs up and over easily. Octavia skillfully vaulted it as well, followed less gracefully and silently by Toru. Celestia took the time to find the small set of stairs.
The party approached the glowing terminal, the only light besides a trio of white cones sweeping around the space. Celestia followed a submerged power cord to it’s penetration point in the bulkhead. The power either came from there, in the next room, or from the equipment enclosed below the terminal.
Tree Hugger pulled the logon screen up, then stepped aside. “Thar she blows,” she said softly. “The computer.”
“Well?” Octavia whispered impatiently. “Log in and answer our questions, already.”
“You first, princess,” Tree Hugger said, putting her hands on her boyish hips. Celestia rolled her eyes.
“You mean you don’t know the password?” Toru asked aloud, dropping his guard in desperation. “Why do we bother?! Every time we get closer to the DCC, it’s always two steps forward and five steps back!”
“Says who?” Celestia jumped in, holding her weapon like a real rifleman at a ready rest. She turned toward Toru and took in a very deep breath. “I fell out of the sky, walked for a hundred miles through sweltering desert heat with hardly any water, murdered a gun demon, walked another few dozen miles while missing a gallon of blood, fell out of the sky again, survived, and even ate an alligator. I’ll be DEAD before I give up on this mission, Captain. If it takes hours, days, or months to guess this fucking password, so be it. I’ve given everything for this. You’ve given quite a bit, too, I think, so tell me: is a stupid password going to slow down a senior officer in MY SPACE COMMAND?!” Celestia’s abdominals and throat were on fire at this point, but she didn’t care. She was about ready to drop Toru and beat his face into the submerged steel.
“Uh...” Toru half froze, trying to remain in control. He shifted his weight, but tried to keep his eyes locked with Celestia’s. A heavy length of time passed, Celestia’s words no longer ringing in his hollow head, just spiteful indignation. Celestia ground her fingers into the pistol grip of her rifle harder and harder, her forearm muscles aching fiercely as she stared death into Toru’s head through his detestable eyes.Tension continued to build at a constant rate, pressure increasing by the second. Blood boiled in Celestia’s face, her thoughts turning darker and angrier and angrier. What was started out as a motivational monologue now seemed more like a death threat. It was rather fitting, as death was the only thing capable of stalling Celestia indefinitely.
Octavia, standing by with what Celestia assumed was a worried look, remained uninvolved. From her peripheral, the princess noted their guide sitting on the rail, swinging her legs. Celestia slowly shifted the weight of her weapon to her weak hand. She snuck her strong hand into a fist. Just clenching it hurt. She sucked in a breath through her nose as she drew back quickly. She shut her eyes and rolled her shoulder forward with the punch, throwing all her weight into it.
A meaty noise rang out, but her knuckles hit nothing but air. Celestia opened her eyes to see Toru fall over heavily like a sack of chicken nuggets, eyes rolled back. He landed face down, creating a large splash.
“Cover!” Octavia shouted, dropping to the wet deck. Celestia stuttered, but got down, her knees aching. Tree hugger followed suit last, the one who was most shocked.
Celestia hated to see her companion go down as much as she hated to not be the one to make it happen, but his well-being took precedence to getting even. She risked reaching out to flip him over so he could breath, if he was alive. A bright blue ball, no bigger than a golf ball, whizzed by her face just as she pulled back behind a panel. Celestia looked past the computer to the left, following the fast projectile until it hit a far off bulkhead. It fizzled out with an electric storm when it hit the water, whatever it was.
Celestia followed her instinct and fired off a blind shot in the general direction where the ball came from, giving Octavia a moment to think. The princess risked a peek over her cover, but was forced down again by another blue ball of electricity.
“Dammit-” Celestia hissed, heart racing and adrenaline flooding her whole body. “Tree, what’s going on?” she quietly screamed. From where her friend sat, across from her and equidistant from the locked control computer, Tree Hugger looked up, finally seeming capable of reacting.
“I don’t know!” she gestured frantically. Octavia snuck off a blast from her position, getting a pair of blue balls fired past her. Celestia looked over as she heard them whiz by. A faint pair of lights, very small and close to each other, hid themselves so quickly, Celestia was unsure if she had seen anything. She ducked down, positive whatever was attacking knew exactly where she was. The two lights, they looked like-
Drop of a hat
Celestia aimed right where the dots were, but hit nothing with her energy bolt. As it flashed by, however, the blue light shown a shadow on the wall to the left of it. A figure was illuminated for such a short time, Celestia couldn’t figure out what it was. She fired two more times, missing and illuminating nothing.
Their attacker remained silent for a moment, perhaps moving, perhaps just as scared as she was. Celestia directed Octavia’s eyes to six o’clock while she searched the forward sector. Celestia wished her flashlight was stronger.
The image of the underground corridors lingered in her mind. Celestia scanned the pitch black, considering which corners the enemy could come from. The little stage the three plus Toru were on was well illuminated by a sickly green glow from the computer screen, two rifles with flashlights circling around in the darkness. The enemy, or enemies, Celestia had no clue how many eyes were upon her, was invisible in the shade.
“Princess,” Octavia hissed, backing up nearer. “Respectfully recommend allowing Tango Hotel to use Captain’s weapon. We need to cover the way we came in, and-”
“Eyes on,” Celestia slowly whispered, flipping Toru’s weapon Tree Hugger’s way. “Tree Hugger, you heard her. Cover the way in. We may need to retreat.”
The scared teen’s shaking hands snatched up the PIAR, her resolve solidifying perceptibly. She flipped an unsatisfactory little salute and shuffled over Toru’s body to cover the entry way. Celestia looked back to check her technique, not noticing any terrible errors, but did spy something much worse.
“Tree, look out!” Celestia quietly screamed. She herself whipped around and squeezed the trigger, sending a long jolt right where she thought the eyes were. The blue beams lit up the doorway they entered earlier, showing an unnerving form for just a split second before it was gone. The enemy’s lurid colors were tainted by the blue bolt, but it’s body was unmistakably human. A fit, little frame, like a gymnast’s, and a large, wide-brimmed hat. Something about the hat was eerie, Celestia couldn’t place what in the split second she had to think before Octavia stood and blasted off into the darkness, spraying five bolts out in front of it.
Celestia clapped her shoulder and dragged Octavia down to the deck, just in time to have several electric ping-pong balls miss her black hair. It would be a war crime to harm that beautiful, long black hair. Celestia peeked up right away, looking for those eyes. “Look out for those,” she whispered, scanning more than ever. “Remember, you two. We’re lit up like Canterlot Square here, and whoever’s out there is fast, invisible, and you know what they’re capable of. Be smart.”
“Tree Hugger,” Celestia continued, not turning around. “We need light in the entire room, now. Switch places with Octavia and cover her area while she works on hacking the control computer.”
“Roger that,” Octavia whispered back. The ensign propped her rifle against the computer casing, cursing as three more spheres whizzed by. Celestia spun around and popped off two quick blasts, finding that Octavia’s side was much more constricted than her own. That portion of the room, to the left of the entrance, contained some tanks of enormous volume, all placed close enough to touching and bolted to the foundation. The opaque white tanks were uncaring to two high-energy beams discharging on the surface. She didn’t see the ninja.
“Mother hump-” Octavia hissed, closing the terminal and opening it again, slapping the spacebar until the encryption screen came up once more. “This is beyond ancient,” she thought out loud.
“Heh, your ma,” Tree Hugger whispered back. “Shit!” She pulled the trigger, wildly blasting twelve or so bolts down the entryway. Celestia spun around and aimed all around, the cone of her light finally hitting the attacker. Black and gold and orange metal shone as it sprinted by. Celestia led the runner and dropped it with one pulse. Her light finally shone clearly on a male-looking figure, robotic in appearance. The sparking hydraulic joints were leaking badly, it’s legs and arms gushing yellow fluid out of the knees and elbows.
“Woah...” Tree Hugger said out loud, drifting towards the corpse mindlessly.
Celestia gripped her shoulder and pointed back to the entryway. “No telling it was alone.”
She turned to her sector, scanning the seemingly endless blackness for more angry yellow eyes. She looked back and saw a beaming girl, giddy with adrenaline and a job well done, so far. Celestia leaned back and held out her fist, instantly snapping back when it was slugged hard.
Octavia was still bent over her computer screen, trying for the tenth time to open the computer’s secrets. “Keep trying,” Celestia said to her. “There’s no telling what else is down here. Tree Hugger, you haven’t run into these... things before?” Celestia snapped to her right, trying to spot those yellow dots. The blackness was maddening, growing, it seemed.
“Never!” she shouted out. The cones of light seemed to become weaker and weaker. A blue dot moved in her peripherals, but when Celestia turned to face it, there was nothing. She doubted she really saw it at all.
“Come on,” Octavia hissed. Celestia could feel the frustration coming off her, but had to ignore it. There was another dot, red, but it was gone the second she looked at it. They didn’t attack, the invisible darkness demons, but they still drained. The aches in her freshly demolished body grew to become nearly intolerable.
A light flashed, and Celestia’s finger jerked the trigger as she jumped. A blue bolt struck the blackness, sparking as it dissipated against whatever it hit. The lights flickered again, then remained on. The fluorescence gave Celestia a powerful headache very quickly, but that was infinitely more desirable than the damning pitch darkness.
Tension boiled out of Celestia’s body in shaking little spasms. She sat on the wet metal, trying to calm down. Octavia and Tree Hugger were at her side quickly, marveling at the underground they could now behold. Celestia’s eyes were drawn up again to see a sight she didn’t expect.
Pipes and tanks were everywhere, dormant pumps and generators and other machinery stood, rusting and doing nothing else. Water and other liquids leaked everywhere. Dirt and silt and other deleterious material clung to the ancient steel pipes. Above was an enormous run, the outside diameter over three feet, Celestia guessed. The section above was flanged to another section, but there was severe leakage and the bolts were brown-orange with rust. It was doomed to fall in the very near future, especially if flow were to start up again.
The massive tanks in the room, also of ancient steel, looked to be faring no better. Most were cylindrical and had little paint, if any at all. The doorway, a watertight door with automatic dogs, looked like it was ready to come off it’s hinges. This place felt less like a basement and more like the belly of a sunken ship.
Metal balls, the remains of the projectiles from earlier, were submerged under the three or four inches of standing water. They weren’t likely to hold any charge still, but Celestia forbade Tree Hugger from picking any up. A ruler herself, Tree Hugger disgruntledly obeyed. Celestia was helped to her feet by her two friends, the captain remained comatose, his chest rising and falling slowly.
The conscious trio huddled around Octavia as she navigated the computer. This was indeed the master control computer, full of years and years of operational logs. Octavia clicked through the list, noting that the first one was made in the ancient past: 2045 AD. Such a time was over a thousand years before her own, predating the parallax communication, interstellar transit, proton inversal technology, nanogeneration, countless other conveniences Celestia somehow knew much about, as if she grew up knowing them, utilizing them.
Her mind wandered on those topics for a while, not really scanning the computer’s data with the others. How did proton inversal work, again? She knew that a proton’s mass was efficiently and safely converted into energy using an ultraplasma fluid chamber in older models. The only problem with that concept was the thermal energy required to generate one million degrees Kelvin, and to contain it.
Celestia looked at her weapon. Somehow, she knew that extremely efficient electromagnetic light photon accelerators imparted kinetic energy to the atom’s parts, not just the entire molecule, lessing the effect of the strong and weak nuclear forces, thus making the process quite easier. She put her thumb on the insulated inversal chamber, where the loose atoms were separated and the protons were converted into energy by colliding with antiprotons, the temperature only a few hundred thousand degrees Kelvin. Toru had all the right in the universe to piss his pants when Celestia put her weapon to his head. She knew he would have that scar on his temple forever.
“Waitwaitwait, what was that?” Tree Hugger asked Octavia. Celestia’s interest returned enough for her to read over Octavia’s shoulder. They were in the section titled “Engineer’s Journal”, and there were hundreds and hundreds of entries.
“What was what? There’s seven hundred and forty seven entries, how could one stick out?”
Tree Hugger pointed to log number 731, dated 30JUN46. “Click it,” she ordered. Octavia obliged.
30JUN46 THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED. ALL USN AND DOD PERSONNEL ARE SUBJECT TO NJP FOR UNAUTHORIZED VIEWERSHIP, DISTRIBUTION, COPYING, OR DESTRUCTION OF THIS DOCUMENT. VIOLATION OF SAID INSTRUCTION IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH AT ANY AND ALL TIMES.
0000 CDR FORE ASSUMED THE DUTIES OF THE PLANT ENGINEER. PLANT CONDITIONS AS BEFORE.
The log went on for several more hours, but mostly just departing and returning of the roving watch, and a successful gasket replacement.
“Okay,” Octavia said, scrolling through the list of logs again. “That was a waste of-”
“No!” Tree Hugger interjected. “This one! Right meow.” She pointed to the second to last log.
“And you haven’t accessed this computer before?” Celestia asked the girl. She was ignored.
4JULY46 THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED. ALL USN AND DOD PERSONNEL ARE SUBJECT TO NJP FOR UNAUTHORIZED VIEWERSHIP, DISTRIBUTION, COPYING, OR DESTRUCTION OF THIS DOCUMENT. VIOLATION OF SAID INSTRUCTION IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH AT ANY AND ALL TIMES.
0000 CDR FORE ASSUMED DUTIES AS PLANT ENGINEER. CONDITIONS AS BEFORE.
Tree Hugger pushed Octavia away from the terminal with an elbow, breaking Celestia’s concentration on the small text. “Okayokay, some crap went down, what next?” She clicked the last log, but this entry was hardly up to the military standard.
4JULY46 THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED. ALL USN AND DOD PERSONNEL ARE SUBJECT TO NJP FOR UNAUTHORIZED VIEWERSHIP, DISTRIBUTION, COPYING, OR DESTRUCTION OF THIS DOCUMENT. VIOLATION OF SAID INSTRUCTION IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH AT ANY AND ALL TIMES.
1900 CDR FORE. GREY SLUDGE IS GROWING EXPONENTIALLY, EXCEEDING WORST CASE SCENARIO PROJECTIONS. MOST PERSONNEL IN NANDIV WERE EVACUATED, EXCEPT MM1 CYBAK, MMFA GILBERTSON (IN BRIG IN NANDIV QUARTERS, HOPE THE SPINDLY LITTLE SHITFUCK ROTS IN THE WORST HELL HE CAN THINK OF. HE’S THE REASON THE NANOBOTS ARE OUT OF CONTROL! NO SURPRISE THE DILDO WENT TO MAST TWICE BEFORE COMING HERE ON DELAYED EXIT ORDERS.), AND MYSELF. CAPTAIN SPARR LEFT ME HERE TO MAKE SURE THIS CATASTROPHE DOESN’T EAT THE ENTIRE PLANET. IT TOOK SERIOUS CONVINCING, BUT HE KNOWS I’VE MORE EXPERIENCE, BEING AN LDO AND ALL. AS PER CLASSIFIED INSTRUCTION NAVNANHAZMATCONINS 10000.0 A, I’VE FLOODED NANDIV SPACES. THE WATER SHOULD DILUTE THE SLUDGE FOR A LITTLE WHILE, LONG ENOUGH FOR THE SUPERELECTROMAGNETS THAT I’LL MANUALLY SUBMERGE TO CONTAIN THE REPLICATION.
“Drama queen,” Tree Hugger said out loud. Celestia held her hand over her open mouth. What was this place? Was that monster defending this room the commander or the “MM1”? What kind of purpose did the nanobots serve? How did this terminal still have the logs on it, let alone function, being submerged and subjected to the wrath of the man-eating “grey sludge”? And most perplexing, how was she known? Why was the commander praying to her?
Octavia touched her shoulder, and Celestia collected herself quickly. Tree Hugger was already walking through the water below, not a care about the microscopic robots. With her new knowledge, Celestia was scanning every corner for that grey sludge. The commander must have been successful... right?
“AH!” Tree Hugger’s screams were piercing. Celestia ran to the rail while Octavia raised her weapon. The robotic creature had the teen’s ankle in a horrific grip, one of its eyes sparking yellow.
“STOP! LET HER GO!” Celestia roared, lifting her own PIAR, trigger half-cocked.
The robot, head half lifted, slowly let Tree Hugger go, leaving finger-shaped marks on her skin. With his one operable arm, the cybernetic insurgent attempted to right himself, failing and falling down again. Tree Hugger had hit his right shoulder, melting the arm clean off. It lay, Celestia noticed, about ten feet behind him. Tree Hugger jumped up and over the railing without even touching it, hiding right behind Celestia. She let her trigger slack, but Octavia was still tensed.
The robot was uncannily humanoid. Assembled, it would have two legs, arms, eyes, ear(holes), ten fingers, probably ten toes, and Celestia swore the supporting structures in the arms and ribs were very similar to human bones. The barred metal, lipless teeth weren’t perfectly aligned, either. In fact, they were clenched in a strange fashion, and looked angularly misaligned as well.
“What are you? Why did you attack us?” Celestia asked in a low voice.
“Unit des-des-designation: OPERATORRrr-” The robot spoke with much difficulty. Celestia doubted it would last much longer. “Direc-rective:” The robot continued, “To ov-see plant operations, protect co-con-con-confiden-tial materials, and prev-ve-vent hazard and unsafe acts and conditions.’
“That’s just vague enough for government work,” Octavia added. “I think we’ll get more answers from these logs and other files.”
“Stop, uunauth-o-o-rrrized p-e-ersonnel!” the OPERATOR crackled. It clearly did not have the means to impede Octavia, but it tried anyway. The robotic remains dragged its corpse along the wet deck to their little command post. Celestia didn’t bother raising her weapon.
“Why?” Tree Hugger asked no one in particular. “It’s been like forever years since you flooded this place, why do you give a fuck?”
Celestia wanted to tell the teen to watch her language, but it was pointless. She was the president, after all.
Not ceasing its pitiful quest, OPERATOR answered. “Because it’s my mmmmission.”
Celestia came forward to the steps he was nearing, ready to obliterate the cryptic cyborg. “Either we’re not asking the right questions,” she started, “or it doesn’t want to answer. Or maybe it simply can’t. We’ve got to try something else if we want answers.”
“Remember our own mission, Princess,” a groggy male croaked. Celestia’s guts nearly jumped out of her mouth.
“That’s right,” Octavia softly said, turning away from the computer. OPERATOR grabbed the first step. On one knee and helping her captain to his feet, Octavia continued. “We need to find a way to the DCC, which means finding a way out of here.”
Toru, slipping as he tried to get up, slouched against the rail. OPERATOR was struggling with the second step. “Well, girls,” he started, clearing his throat. “All my sudden... questions aside, why can’t we just leave the way we came? This, uh, guy isn’t really an obstacle. What is in our path that we can’t just climb up and out and be on our merry way?”
“The nans, dur,” Tree Hugger said in a bored voice, swinging her legs as she sat on the railing near OPERATOR. He, or it, was struggling with the third and last step. “Anyone who leaves the swamp who’s drank the water gets real sick and dies like, instantly.”
“What?” Octavia asked, stealing Celestia’s words yet again.
“Nanosc-scale robots are fueled by a micro-micrrrrogram of Americium tac tw-tw-two four three each.” OPERATOR did not cease his painfully slow assault. “When the standard operAAAAaaating magnetic field -czz- no lonnnnnger present, the isotope is unres-restricted, allowing neutro-trons to escape unimpeded into the surrounding enviirronmen-men-ment. Depending on the concentra-tration, the loss of electrons to contain the high-concentration neutrons can result in ex-ex-extremmmme radiation flooding. Initial scans indicate all unauthorized personnel in NANDIV spaces contain twenty-seven point sev-sev-sev-sev-seven seven seven six seven times the amount of nanosc-scale robots for a lethal dooosssse.”
Celestia should have been surprised, but something felt like this was to be expected. Two steps forward, five steps back. A defeated look overtook everyone except Tree Hugger. All they had been through, the foes and obstacles overcome for the ultimate, unreachable goal, was truly impossible now. At least, it seemed certain for now.
OPERATOR was fully onto the main platform now, his one arm frantically clawing the near useless pile of servos and metallic joints forward to the computer. Octavia was hardly interested in either ancient piece of the world before. Celestia’s curiosity, however, was burning intensely despite her frustration.
The robot corpse uselessly attempted to destroy the terminal, but the sturdy casing was hardly scratched by the robot’s hydraulically useless fingers. “I have so, so many questions, but,” Celestia asked rubbing her temples as Octavia slowly took aim. “The one that comes to bear is why does the United States Navy, or America, or whoever. How do they, or at least the commander, know and, and pray to me?”
The robot stopped its/his efforts slowly; Celestia was unsure out of conscious volition or inability to continue. “You are,” it began lowly. “P-Prince-e-e-ess Celestia?” The hope in his/its tone was uncanny, eerie, creepy.
“Alive and somewhat well,” she said. “And I’d like to stay that way or better, if I may.” Her weapon felt heavier.
OPERATOR swiveled it’s metal head around, the steel looked melted in the fluorescent light. “That... I d-don’t und-dersstand. You, h-u-umano-oid in... stature. Why are you hummmmman?” He was losing power to his speech functions, or more, Celestia warranted. The pitch in his slow, artificial voice was decreasing more and more. Soon, he’d be completely inscrutable.
“As opposed to what?” Octavia asked this time.
OPERATOR turned his head to her. “Pony, d-uh.”
Celestia rolled her eyes. This place was weird, and this was just another oddity. So she was some pony princess now, who fell from the sky twice and nearly died the same number of times. Quite a lot would be needed to shock Celestia, now. It was just left turn after left on this herself-forsaken planet.
“What’s your name, OPERATOR?” she asked. “Before you were OPERATOR. Commander Fore? Or MM1 Cybak?”
His/its eyes flickered. “Com-man-mander Fffffffff-” OPERATOR’s low, weak tone trickled out to a mechanical clicking. He went limp, dead, and uttered one last message with his remaining power. “Ff-fi- n-num- two tree tw- fo- nin-.... dirrrec-” The commander uttered.
His already limp half-torso didn’t do anything. “What?!” Tree Hugger said after a moment had passed, breaking the somber silence as the cybernetic commander failed to do anything. “No twitching? No final little puffs of electrical smoke? No rudding fantastic self-destruct?! Laaame!”
Octavia, Toru, and Celestia exchanged looks of adult, professional disapproval, yet Octavia couldn’t hide a trace of that spontaneous enjoyment. Tree Hugger had a point, Octavia thought, and Celestia couldn’t help but think the young officer that much more adorable.
“I don’t even understand any of this shit,” Toru mumbled. “First off,” Toru said with a finger pointed at Tree Hugger, who was kicking Commander Fore’s corpse now. “Who the shit are you? Second, what the fuck is that?” This time, fingering the robot. “Third, what the fuck did he say? And last,” Toru shouted, pointing back at Celestia. “What the FUCK are you doing, being a pony or whatever? What the hell does that even mean?!”
“Oh my god. Shut up, Toru!” Celestia shouted right back, rubbing her aching temples. “I am far from in the mood to explain-”
“Princess Celestia’s a white alicorn pony princess with a sun on her butt in a tv show called ‘My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic’ who basically runs Equestria’s shit. Right now, she’s also some stupid sexy MILF with a badass gun and super smarts and just killed a Commander in the Navy who was also the head engineer dude guy for the Navy nanobot research lab thing, which basically got fucked by that Gilbertson dude. Er, I guess we killed him, but... The nanobots took over in a big way after that dick shit the bed and the commander stayed back to contain the catastrophe, so I guess he got eaten by the bots like that Cyback mechanic guy, but we don’t know what came of him. THEN, I think he said something like ‘File number two three four nine directory someham’, but he died. Like what’s his green butt in Star Wars, it’s been a sec since I watched it and stuff. Oh, and I’m Tree Hugger, el Presidente of la America. That’s Italian for ‘Leader of the Free World’. Nice to meet you, shitbag!” Tree Hugger held out a hand, smiling wide.
As many questions as that tirade answered, Celestia had three times more now. Toru smacked her hand away and struggled to his feet, grumbling four-letter words and holding his head. His headache, Celestia reasoned, was likely worse than her own. The little blistered scar on his head had opened up badly from the projectile and was bleeding, but not bad.
“What are we waiting for?” Octavia asked. “Let’s find that file.”
Celestia sighed deep. “Let’s.”
“You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” Octavia roared, aligning her PIAR for the millionth time today. “What do you mean I’m not authorized? We already killed the other one, who the heck says we can’t access the rest of the files?!”
She fired off twice, but Celestia jumped forward to deflect the muzzle up to the ceiling. Even though her shots missed MM1 Cybak, the energy blasts hit the massive, loose pipe in the overhead, shaking the remnants of the flange’s bolts to iron oxide dust. The end sagged dangerously, groaning a sickly, lazy threat.
“Stop!” the princess commanded, her sides hurting fiercely. “We’re cooperating! We’re cooperating, now, so no need for any violence. Right?” Celestia shouted out her question. Octavia angrily complied, stepping back and lowering her weapon. Toru didn’t move, yet Tree Hugger still laid half-sitting in the water beneath a menacing foe, a hopefully non-lethal weapon held to her head.
“I am not kidding, ma’am,” the cyborg replied in monotone, the robot’s grip on his weapon steady. “You and everyone here simply do not have the clearance. I would escort you outside the facility, but I do not think you all intend on leaving peacefully.” The cyborg who called himself MM1 Cybak shifted his aim to Princess Celestia. Without turning to Tree Hugger, he addressed her: “I apologize, madam President. My initial scans did not indicate your identity. I respectfully ask that you vacate the area as lethal force is nearly authorized, and the area will become unsafe for noncombatants.”
His rifle-shaped weapon, the one that shot those balls of electricity, was steady in his superhuman grip. “The three of you are issued a warning: leave now, or risk death or serious bodily harm. Do you yield?”
“We come not in war, but in peace,” Celestia started, using every iota of diplomatic tact she had. It would take a great deal to convince a robot anything, she reasoned. His skin used to be of flesh, but it was solid steel, now. An uncanny replication of man, MM1 Cybak was a far cry from human now. “All we want is to leave. Howev-”
“However, with the nanobots swimming in your bloodstream, you’re a walking time bomb. I know. It’s fucking stupid, and I don’t know why they are set that way. They just are.” MM1 Cybak made an electrical sound that might have been a sigh. “Welcome to the fuckin Navy, where everything is efficient and makes sense. Oh yeah, watch out for idiots who don’t know what they’re doing. You might get splashed a little and turn into a robot. Anyway,” he continued with an annoyed matter-of-factness. The way his completely electronic voice conveyed emotion was as unsettling as it was intriguing to Celestia. Almost as intriguing as an instant knock-out from his weapon. “Leave or die.”
“Wait one sec-”
“Wait one aye,” MM1 replied, cutting off Tree Hugger and lowering his weapon.
Wide-eyed looks were exchanged between the living. Tree Hugger got to her feet, her wet shorts dripping as she did, and inspected MM1 closely. “What’s your name?” she asked, knowing full well as he had previously stated.
“Petty Officer First Class Cybak comma Manuel Foxtrot Period,” he/it replied monotonously.
Tree Hugger put her hands behind her back and cocked her head to the side, looking very closely at every part of the robot. “Mmmhmm, stand at attention.”
He snapped to, his back going erect and his weapon pointing to the wet deck.
“MM1,” she started slowly, inspecting his chin. She flashed Celestia a little smile, biting her tongue. “Did you shave today?”
“Oh my grr...” Octavia grumbled into her palm.
“No, madam president. My hair fell off when my skin turned into a eighty-eight percent titanium alloy.”
“Hmm, very well. Since you seem to be in satisfactory condition, I’ll let you remain at your post without, uh... reprisumand. Now unlock that terminal and let these peeps peep the need-ta-know. Right meow.”
“With all due re-”
“At ease!”
The robot pulled his rifle/launcher back up to his arms, his eyes returning to Celestia, “With all due respect, madam president, I cannot do that, as much as I want to. I-”
“WHO is your superior?” Tree Hugger shouted.
“Madam president, my chain of command dissolved a thousand years ago to just Commander Fore and then the same and acting president above him, Mister Fire Starter.”
“WHO IS YOUR SUPERIOR?!”
Cybak remained frozen for a second, the servos in his metal head audibly whirring. “You, Madam president, and you alone. Commander Fore was killed in action just a few minutes ago. Memory logs updated accordingly.”
“Damn straight, yo. Now, I don’t care about clearance sales or authority or anything. Unlock that computer and log these people as friends. Ambassadors from Equestria, on a quest-ria.”
Cybak dropped his weapon and stiffly strode to the computer, complying as silently as his hydraulics and circuits would allow. Octavia stepped aside as Cybak accessed The terminal. Celestia’s eyes caught Octavia’s for more than a casual glance, but a gentle, sincere, knowing smile broke the apprehensive tension. Celesia appreciated Octavia’s pretty look.
“You all have access,” Cybak murmured in a robotic tone, a trace of defeated contempt possibly humming through with it. Celestia shook off whatever misconception and refocused.
“Thank you,” she said, not knowing if the robot, who was once a man, even cared as he shuffled away. His form looked much less agile than the commander’s, even if the latter’s was mangled. Celestia guessed whatever transformation came of him had a different effect, and was afraid of any potential powers he had hidden.
As Toru sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand, Octavia set to discovering a way to leave. Tree Hugger was absorbed with inspecting the robot, and Celestia found herself with nothing to do. She could either look over Octavia’s shoulder and micromanage and be generally unhelpful, or she could drill the MM1 for info. Celestia snuck a long look over Octavia before descending into the flooded space.
“What’s this, then?” Tree Hugger disdainfully said, inspecting the imperfections in Cybak’s armor. “Did we iron last night? Because I think you just took your uniform, balled it up like, actually balled it up, and threw it in the corner. Is that what happened?”
“Tree, he’s made of metal, how could he ever-”
“Mmm!” she hummed disdainfully. “Look at that. When’s the last time we got a haircut?” Tree Hugger’s mocking inspection dragged on.
“What hair!?”
“That’s most unsatisfactory.” Tree Hugger laughed and walked around an uncaring machine, inspecting his humanoid structure up and down.
“Tree, cut it out. I want to ask him, or it, some questions.” Celestia looked the robot up and down again. Tree Hugger didn’t stop her tirade, but she did remain mostly silent, save for disagreeing hums and clicks.
Cybak, MM1, was likely a pretty average sailor, soldier, whatever. Six foot nothing, the metal man was likely nearly as uncaring as a machine, anyway. The blue, wavy metal along his ribs and forearms may have once been a uniform, and Celestia thought she could see a “U.S. NAVY” on his right pectoral. Otherwise, he looked overall mostly gunmetal black/grey. A wisp of a thought about the gun demon sent a shiver up Celestia’s spine.
“So, MM1 Cybak,” she started, the wet patter of the president’s wild feet and the tak-tak of keys behind her the only noises around, the pipe overhead resting. “Tell me about the nanobots. About yourself, and about this facility. Why is everything in such bad condition?”
“Cuz,” he started, his robot voice somehow conveying some sort of pathetic, lazy, selfish conviction. “No one’s been performing maintenance for a thousand years. That, and there’s been water down here for just as long, thanks to the water table and flooding pumps and the DNL, so the pipes have been corroding. God forbid we use space-rated metal for space-rated tech. If we had spaceship metal for pipes, there would never be any rust.”
Celestia shifted her weight to her other leg, her joints only mildly sore. “DNL?”
“Director of Nanoscale Robotic Laboratories, Commander Fore. You’ve met.”
“Why haven’t you been performing maintenance, then?”
“Who says I haven’t? This space was submerged for the first two-hundred years, but this is one of many spaces. The lounge faucet, the heads, the flooding pump piping, refrigeration, all sorts of systems require maintenance. The commander and I performed scheduled maintenance when we could, but even the cycle schedule became outdated before the water drained.”
Cycle? Some of the information Celestia had no clue or care about. “Okay, so this place is too big for two robots to keep up.”
“We tried. There’s not a whole lot we can do without replacement parts. Ever since people started living upstairs, we can’t exactly go topside to order them.”
“And who says the warehouses are even on the planet?” Octavia chimed in, not looking up from her reading.
“Well, America, not to mention the fucking navy, is kinda ancient. They haven’t been around for generations,” Tree Hugger said, bored of her inspections.
Cybak turned his head at last. “You’re an American, though, madam president.”
“Yeah, like, a tribe. America as you knew it, the kind that went to planets and founded colonies and research labs is long dead, man.”
Cybak stared out at that, his metal eyes spooked the princess as he seemed to think deeply. Celestia, informed but not too surprised, had nothing to add. Once the silence seemed heavy enough, she advanced the conversation.
“Tell me about yourself. What does ‘MM1’ mean? How did you get this way?”
“Machinist Mate First Class Petty Officer, paygrade E-6. That was my rank, or still is, when I was transformed. There’s no advancement when the nation and the world has moved on. Still, I do my job, I work on pipes and valves and all that crap, which is hard to do without tools or parts or technical manuals.” His voice was becoming so human, so colloquial, so disgruntled and emotive, yet it was still coming from a dinky little speaker in his face.
“So what I really care about are the millions of tiny robots in my blood,” Celestia said, steering the conversation again. “How do we turn them off without killing us?”
The cyborg lifted his head. “Good question. I’ve come up with three solutions since I’ve been down here.” He jolted from a statue still, startling Celestia. “First,” he said as he walked, his mechanical gait smooth, yet creepy. “Is to deactivate the electromagnetic inhibitors down here. This would release the robots into the water full scale, and self-replication would eventually take over the entire site, killing any and every person here in a slow, painful death. Very gruesome, the process would either take hours or weeks. I would know.”
“Nope,” Tree Hugger dismissed flatly. “Nope. Just nope, no way. As much as I’d want cyborg friends, I’m not gonna kill and die for them.”
“Second,” he continued, standing near the computer terminal, “and likely less lethal, would be to localize the power of the inhibitors to this area. Topside, the robots would all shut down and kill their hosts. However, the casings of the robots down here would fuse shut, sealing in the isotope and rendering them useless. It may be uncomfortable to urinate for a few days, but you would live easily.”
“So we live, and everyone upstairs dies?” Octavia asked.
“Double nope!” Tree Hugger chimed.
“Affirmative, that’s right-”
“No, that’s wrong, and that’s why we’re not gonna do that! Come on,” Tree Hugger said, “what’s behind door number three?!”
Cybak looked at the terminal he stood near, looking ready to carry out any one of his three options unfeeling, yet eager, as if he had been waiting centuries to do it. “Third and last would be to increase the power even greater, safely disabling the bots in a much wider radius. There’s a problem with this plan, however. The only way to attain that much power would overload the radioisotope generators, flooding the site with irreversible radiation.”
“So we may as well just unsafely deactivate the bots,” Octavia said. “Radiation is radiation.”
Celestia leaned back against the rail, thinking the options over. She contemplated hard, waving off offered suggestions from Toru and Tree Hugger. Octavia seemed just as perplexed.
“We need power to keep the bots on,” she thought out loud. “And that’s coming from where, exactly?”
“Four radioisotope generators, buried deep in the concrete. The half-lives of the isotope in them is four thousand years long, so there is still much power inside, and that’s why they are buried in concrete. Sturdy machines, they have generated a near-steady amount of electricity for their entire lives. However, they do contain much radioactive material.”
Celestia played with her bottom lip as she thought some more. “Can’t overload those,” she murmured. “I assume even if we overload everything, we couldn’t get out before radiation sickness would kill us.”
“Projections predict average survivability for organic life deep down would be thirty to forty seconds. Topside, three to three and a half minutes.”
“Fuck,” Octavia whispered. She idly tapped the monitor casing, staring blankly past her feet.
Silence hung heavy in the dead, wet underground. Celestia tapped the inversal chamber of her weapon idly as she tried to let her mind roam. It was so tough, after everything that had happened. The whole scenario was so damned frustrating. Celestia knew they were close, very close, to their goal, she could feel it. She wished she could just get a hint about what to do.
Toru shuffled to his feet, water dripping off his doughy back. “Why-” he coughed thickly. “Why don’t we just go topside, overload the reactor, and book it?” he asked.
Celestia rolled her eyes, catching Octavia’s again. She let the ensign take this one.“For one-”
“Negative,” MM1 said. “You are mistaken on two accounts, sir. Item one: the power sources are not nuclear reactors. There is no steam cycle, and the radioactive element is not the same element, or even series, as those in a reactor. Item two: neutron penetration of the earthen matter overhead would be too complete. Radiation would terminate or severely damage all organisms within minutes. Even slight exposure could prove excruciatingly fatal.”
The princess eyed the computer terminal between Octavia and the cybernetic mechanic. A question, possibly relevant, rose inside her. “Who wrote all those logs? Who was it that thought up your three ‘solutions’?”
MM1 Cybak crackled a sound like a laugh that made the royal skin crawl. Octavia and Tree Hugger visibly shivered. “Austin did. Commander Fore, formally, formerly. He was dead right about the nanobots abilities, too. Only problem is that they’re made to kill, not heal. They could, though. They sure as shit could. He even got some wizards to write a program a while back to make them heal, but you already got to know that.”
“So why do they kill if they’re unpowered?!” Tree Hugger shouted. “That’s so DUMB! Why bother having the stupid things if they just kill the host if they’re not powered?”
“Tree Hugger,” Octavia started. “These things were made to kill things. OPERATOR, since he called himself that, changed them.”
“Correction: he didn’t do anything. An enlisted member reprogrammed them over a thousand years ago, in direct conflict with standing orders.”
“Right,” Octavia said, steering the topic back to the forward direction. “So if we overload them, they’re useless, but harmless. If we don’t power them, they kill, we got that. How can we keep everyone alive and leave?”
Celestia looked down to her weapon again, a spark of inspiration taking her. “So,” she said, perking up a little. “What if we just carry an electromagnet with us? Keep the bots powered, keep them working.”
“How would we power the magnet?” Tree Hugger asked.
The princess raised her rifle up, a spark of inspiration flashing across Octavia’s shining smile. “Ensign, do you know how radioisotope generators work?”
Octavia scoffed. “Hot rock make piston go, piston go make spark spark. Learned that in middle school, come on.”
“So,” Celestia said, getting the exact response she had wanted. “If it’s so simple, think you can adapt a modified Sterling Generator using the PIAR’s inversal chamber as the hot end?”
A look of confusion ran just under the surface of Toru’s calm, slothish demeanor, but Octavia understood, contemplating the methods. “But Princess,” she started, crossing her arms across her stomach. “Wouldn’t the temperature be way too high? And the cold end would be at ambient temperature, unless we contain it. And still-”
“The hottest part is inside the weapon. On the outside,” Celestia said as she tapped the chamber. “It’s like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer. Ther-”
“Therefore, we could connect the muzzle to the hot end, then half-cock the trigger to heat it up, we could get as much energy as we would need at a reasonable temperature!”
“Right,” Celestia said, her temples already aching from not only the memory of a hostage captain’s flesh melting, but also trying to come up with a way to build such a device. “Think you could make it?”
Octavia held up her weapon and inspected it. “If we scrapped this, I’m sure I could.”
“Oooh! I have no clue at all what you’re talking about, but we got tons of tools and stuff upstairs!” Tree Hugger said.
Celestia sighed a long sigh. “We’ll be down a gun, but that’s perfectly okay. Make it so.”
“Oh my god, dude, are you still talking? Why are you verbally communicating?” Tree Hugger squeezed the bridge of her nose and looked back up at the captain. “Huh? I asked a question, yo.”
“Uh...” Toru trailed off rather dumbly. It took him a minute and some unattractive faces of confused indignation to think of a reply.
Tree Hugger walked around him, stepping on his foot. She continued on to the dimmed, loud, smokey room. The four, including madam president, had been topside no less than a minute before Toru felt like justifying his actions. Never the one to admit fault, as pointless a thing now, Toru turned to his companions, but looked away in lieu of talking. Celestia fought her eyes not to roll.
“Uh, Tree?” Octavia said, following close behind the president. Celestia succeeded, with Toru last in line.
The royal senses were assaulted by a barrage of smells and sights and lights and smoke and sounds. The room to which Tree Hugger now led them was alive, dark with pulsing red and orange and violet lights, a stench akin to burning incense and rotten fruit. The moving of bodies and the pounding of bass added to the confusion. Following Octavia in a bit of a misplaced progression was made possible by her white, tight uniform, reflecting the purples and the reds vividly enough for her to be an hourglass-shaped beacon.
The celebration was quite intense, with plenty of skin and alcohol and other substances to supplement the furious music. As loud, obnoxious and vulgar as the music and people were, Celestia found the whole of the festivities appealing. If the DCC wasn’t so imperative, she would have gladly taken a night to indulge in the “American” way.
Before the princess could appreciate the party in full, the serious troupe proceeded to another room, a heavy metal door reducing the thumping bass of rap music to a pulsing hum. The four stood in a tiled, somewhat clean room with one shower and barely enough room to move with four people.
The president clapped her hands. “I figured you could all use a nice s-h-o-w-e-r,” she said flatly. “You, uh, kinda could use one,” Tree Hugger said, looking into Toru’s eyes. “Please. Alright ladies, you decide what needs doing. It’s ‘merica day, bitches, and I’m gonna go have fun. Come find me when you’re done!”
She took of for the bar without as much as a courteous brief over the shower’s inevitable fine-tuning or an invitation to the party just outside. There were, luckily, some clean-looking towels hanging on a rack, white cotton against a green tile wall. The shower in the corner of the room was a standard glass coffin and had some bottles of shampoo with soap-scum scabs around the lid.
Toru himself clapped his hands this time. “Well, if you ladies don’t mind...” he trailed off, his voice falling to a drone, an annoying clicking sound as he used as little air as possible. Celestia pulled Octavia out into the louder room and slammed the door behind her.
The second time she was blasted with lights and music and smells and sights, Celestia took it as an entirely different situation. Instead of an assault on her senses, it was an assault on her tension. She was compelled to stash her rifle somewhere and lose herself for a change. Celestia saw quite a few attractive bodies moving and dancing, but the long, black haired pink-purple-red tinted whitewash to her right was more alluring by a long shot. Then, right when the bumping rap song ended and an inebriated chorus rang out, Octavia caught her looking.
Celestia felt her face go red and looked away to the front of the room, noticing a bar and a familiar teen arguing with her citizens over what looked like tequila shots. She looked back at the ensign and saw a sly, knowing grin. The princess smiled back, despite rolling her eyes, and led Octavia by her soft hand to the bar. The touch of her companion’s skin was more welcome than she could have ever thought.
What happened next, Celestia recollected while she undressed for her turn in the shower, such a lovely change of pace from the dry desert battles, was very unexpected. She had fun. Octavia and herself never paid for a drink for roughly an hour or so. Mixed drinks, deceptively strong and sweet, evolved with roaring laughter and unprofessional jollity into shots of liquor chased with sodas and other things. Princess Celestia was even convinced to do a body shot with another woman. Her red face and cherry pink hair were almost as sexy as her tight stomach and perky, young breasts. She laughed voraciously as Celestia sucked all the tequila off her hot skin.
When Octavia brushed her hair behind her ear, it fell out of place quite often, Celestia found herself watching intently. She reasoned she would like to do it for her. Very much, the princess supposed she would enjoy that. Would Octavia, she wondered? That question followed every thought in her frantic mind as the two foreigners enjoyed a little “western hospitality”. Uniform or no, everyone was enjoying the independence day afterparty. It was well after midnight, and Celestia was feeling it. Fatigue, along with somewhere between four and eight drinks, caused Celestia to feel just a little bit off normal. And that was fine. Her normal was torture, for most. Dying of thirst, in agonizing pain, or worst of all, frustrated beyond belief. No, now Celestia was feeling good. Great. Well enough to feel anything beyond stress and pain.
Just as the princess reached for a full glass no bigger than a good strawberry, a man’s damp hand clamped down on her wrist. Had she been in normal condition, he might have gotten a boxed ear from her left hand.
“Princess,” none other than the captain said flatly. Without another word, never seeing the need to justify his unfriendly behavior nor the unfriendliness in itself, Toru snatched up the shot glass and sniffed it. Celestia noted his blond hair hung around his head messily, still dripping. Not much, but the fact that it was was indicative of deeper problems. If a grown man couldn’t dry his own hair, what else could he not do?
Celestia carefully slid off her rotating stool and stood smoothly. “Well,” she shouted over the blaring music which was considerably louder up here. “Unless you have any objections, Octavia, I believe Toru has given me the go ahead.” She waited for a second, looking her subordinate in the eye, then what happened was unbelieveable. While Toru audibly gulped down the royal shot, Octavia snuck a wink. The near twitch stopped Celestia in her tracks like a brick wall. Everything seemed to stop, like it does when an unspoken exchange occurs between two people that are interested in one another. Octavia’s shining lavender eyes, half-lidded and knowing, spoke endless speech after speech with just one flutter. The princess found herself smiling, and then the world outside the two intruded again, reality smashing into the princess like choppy waves on rocks. She hurried on, the white-pink-purple-blue-violet-red hourglass burning in her mind.
The princess advanced, blushing as she denied a pair of young adults a chance to get intimate in her bathroom. Except, she reasoned, getting intimate was too clean a phrase. President’s orders.
She locked the door behind her and double checked it, the bass pumping away loud enough to rattle the hinges a little. How these people managed to create a sound system capable of that, or do any number of things, Celestia decided to not think about.
The sonsie princess undid the clasp on her shoulder and sighed deep as a constant pressure she was completely unaware of relented, her chest finally uninhibited by her tight, visually pleasing uniform. Celestia softly moaned to herself as her uniform came completely undone, each inch of zipper releasing her body from a skin-tight tomb. It took effort to peel it off, but Celestia nearly shouted and danced with joy when she was out of that thing. She loved it, the way it hugged her hips and made her body look so slim, but it had been on for far too long. Her skin finally breathed, and she was immeasurably grateful to the president for such an opportunity. She was doubly glad to rinse off the stench of her adventures, as well.
Celestia hummed aloud while she turned the knob of the shower to the hottest setting, smiling wide as near-boiling water shot out. She dialed back the temperature and carefully stepped in.
Water soaked through her massive plume of tricolor hair, the pink-green-blue draping across her curves and flowing with her like the liquid gift sent down from above. Warmth grew and grew through her, emanating not from her scalp where the water landed but from the holy place she kept well groomed between her legs. Celestia groaned out, thinking about that body and that black, long hair and that wink, her hand sliding across her wet stomach, flat and fit and also very warm, to a surprising explosion of hair.
“Huh?” Celestia heard herself say. She looked down, expecting a very cute, trim stripe of pubic hair, but clearly saw an impressive bush, the same color of her hair. Fingers gingerly explored this forested region, finding the coarse hair stiff, unpleasant. Sitting in the corner was a big bottle, soap sum clotting around the neglected lid like crust on an unwashed whore’s lips. Celestia sighed and denied herself pleasure just long enough to cover her head and groin with a surplus of fragrant, girly shampoo.
Just when her hair was thoroughly lathered with lovely lavender suds, a gentle tapping on the glass caused the princess to nearly jump up and over the overhead lip of the shower walls. She killed the water and looked, opening the shower door in a couple of frantic, jerky movements.
Slowly, Celestia peered around the fogged glass, and let out a long sigh of relief, possibly the only person in the world she wanted to see right now was in the bathroom with her. “Octavia,” Celestia said, feeling her heart slowly calm down from it’s inhuman pace. “You nearly scared me to death. H-how did you get in? The door was locked.”
The beauty just lifted her finger, showing a single key on a ring. “Courtesy of miss president, one one-way ticket to get away from the captain.”
Celestia stepped into the doorway, smiling wide. “He’s up to no good again?”
Octavia, face red as she drank in the exposed figure of her princess, could do little more than stare. “Who are you talking about, princess?” she asked, eyes going everywhere and her mind going much, much further.
The princess stepped out into the steamy bathroom and slowly made her way to the ensign. She took the woman by her shoulders, water still dripping down her hot body, and gently brushed a long lock of greasy, dirty black hair behind her ear. “I don’t even remember.” Celestia gently cupped Octavia’s cheek and bent her neck down. The tall princess didn’t have to move far as the ensign was not short at all, her long legs and waist parts of a slender yet hourglassed figure.
The taste of Octavia’s lips was like an addicting drug. The first high was nothing short of pure magic, unbelievable pleasure and fun and euphoria, but just one quick kiss was far from enough. Celestia felt a gentle hand on her side, and found her wide hips cupped greedily, and bent her neck just slightly for another kiss, then another, bass driving through the wall like a sledgehammer.
Octavia’s body, Celestia thought, would be just as mind-numbingly desirable. The texture of her uniform on the royal hands, however, was as frustrating as a locked computer.
Right away, she popped open the clasp at Octavia’s right shoulder. “You’re welcome,” Celestia whispered into Octavia’s ear as she undid the zipper across her torso. Octavia moaned out loud as Celestia separated the latex-like material from her tender, olive skin. Removing the suit and revealing suffocated skin seemed to uncork both of them. The ensign had strong tan lines, the princess saw with an excited heart. Her dark forearms, neck, face, and legs contrasted with her whiter body. Two heavy breasts pointed out from Octavia’s chest, round yet perky, coming to a sort of peak as hard nipples pointed out. Celestia pushed her palm into Octavia’s right breast, biting her lip as the heat pressed right back.
A pleasured little sound escaped her lips, her bronzed, strong, calloused fingertips dug into Celestia’s leg. The princess took her friend’s hand and moved it up and back, gasping lightly as her full, round ass was groped hard. She thrusted her hips forward instinctively with the bass, pressing her warm, dripping wet pussy into Octavia’s leg, hair and all. She blushed hard and shivered at the sudden sensation. Princess Celestia, a quivering, horny bitch. She laughed at the thought internally.
“Come on, princess,” Octavia said, taking the initiative to kiss her princess’s collarbone. When Celestia felt her soft tongue there, she nearly collapsed. “I really could use a shower.”
The princess collected herself and backed off enough to enjoy the view. “Yes, yes we could. I’ve still got shampoo in my hair, I swear I do the silliest things sometimes.”
“Oh, I’m a silly thing now?” Octavia tossed over her shoulder as she stepped into the glass coffin.
Celestia scoffed instead of rolling her eyes. No words needed, she hurried to follow.
Octavia set the temperature to a little cooler than Celestia wished, but she would adjust. She wiped away some of the aged crust on the shampoo bottle (Mane ‘N Tail, lavender scented) and lathered an abundance into Octavia’s hair. Standing front to back, Celestia’s great breasts squished just slightly, the princess enjoyed massaging Octavia’s scalp almost as much as her subordinate did. Lather, rinse, grope, moan, repeat.
Octavia did the same for Celetia, but opted to face her, reaching down once eye-stinging suds stopped flowing from her princess’s hair, so long and soft, and fragrant. A little more shampoo in hand, they must have used a great deal of the bottle by now, Octavia stared Celestia down as she cupped her royal genitalia. Celestia flinched when her middle finger just barely caressed her labia below, but held still as her forest above that was lathered up well. The royal pussy grew warmer and warmer as her hair softened, hanging wetly down from her pubis.
What happened next surprised Celestia, but she didn’t move or flinch. Octavia brushed all the soap away and looked up to her princess as she got on her knees, water covering her head in torrents. She stuck out her tongue and spread Celestia’s hot lips with two deft fingers. Unable to resist, Celestia closed her eyes and rested her hand on Octavia’s head, her silky black hair caught in her fingers as the loyal ensign’s head bobbed back and forth, up and down, finding both their favorite places to go. Her tongue was so good, or Celestia was so horny, that she forgot herself and began grinding her hips, humping Octavia’s pretty face in ecstasy. Likely both.
“Ah!” Celestia shouted as Octavia’s long finger dove deep, deep into her vagina. It twisted around once before she took it out. The void of sensory input drove Celestia to curiosity, which led her to look down and find Octavia, one eye covered with wet hair and the other looking back, her long finger all the way in her mouth, lips curled around and cheeks caved in.
The black haired beauty gulped down what must taste like heaven, then put her finger and another into Celestia. She knew what she was doing, and what she was doing was fantastic. Celestia rewarded her with a little bit hotter water.
It was seconds before Celestia’s knees began to shake, and her hips and her entire body shortly after. She couldn’t speak, but she hardly needed to. Octavia stood tall on her knees and helped to support her princess by using her free hand, draping her princess’s leg over her shoulder and pushing her back to the glass. Celestia rested her face on the cold, cold glass and breathed deeply, moaning out as loud as she could. The pane vibrated with every long, hard bass tone. It was a body massage, nearly.
When she came, Princess Celestia came hard, her orgasm long, and thorough, and sharp as a tack. Her screams were loud and full, her cunt spasms were strong like her streams of girlcum that mixed with the water in her subject’s hair. The few glimpses she could manage revealed her loyal ensign loved to catch it on her face as much as she loved to swallow. Such a willing partner, Celestia thought when she came down.
Celestia asked if she could breathe before they switch places, and Octavia happily, humbly agreed. When her own wind returned, as difficult as it was in the hot, humid cubicle, Celestia simply advanced on her partner, whose slick, sexy body was covered with suds. She groped and massaged Octavia for a short time before her hands traveled where they wanted. Her back again to the princess, Octavia turned her head and kissed Celestia, one leg held up, her pussy lips invaded by loving fingers. Celestia’s palm ran over the soft stripe of hair again and again until her wrist tired of the awkward angle. Unsure how to make Octavia moan best, and afraid to use the same tactic and be boring, she kept her partner facing the same direction as she got down on her knees.
“Oh my fucking god,” Octavia moaned out, her whole body going tense. Celestia couldn’t contain another giggle as she spread the fine, hot pussy in front of her. She loved being eye-level with her subject’s tight, firm ass, using her free hand to molest it while she worked the lips below. Octavia braced herself with her arm against the wall, hissing and sighing and breathing in quick, whiny breaths, moaning and groaning and shouting and shrieking without end. Content to be quiet in diplomacy as well as combat, Octavia was another sexy creature when her clothes were off, and Celestia thoroughly loved both sides of this coin.
While pausing to rest her wrist and sample her subject’s taste, Celestia answered Octavia’s confused groan with a sharp slap, not too hard. The princess sat back and watched the skin turn from pale beige to a lovely olive-pink, enjoying Octavia’s voice as she complained.
“Oh, relax,” Celestia calmly replied. “That was only about ten percent, love. If you don’t want more, just say so.”
Even though she hesitated, Octavia said no. Licking her lips, Celestia complied, groping her ass hard as a compromise. She was transfixed on it. Tight, firm, yet nice and big and round. It was as if the junior officer worked hard to get it this way, deliberately spending extra time on her slappable ass. A newfound appreciation for her ensign took root in Celestia.
Slowly and carefully at first, Celestia dipped her two fingers of her right hand into the dripping wet lips of her companion, stroking back and forth, feeling her entrance but not diving in yet. Celestia teased and played for a little bit, tickling the hard little hot clit, but she couldn’t deny herself the joy of feeling Octavia’s tight walls for long. Slowly, Celestia pushed one finger deep into Octavia’s twat, getting the best moan she had ever heard. She pumped a few times, then found two fingers to be far better. Celestia picked up the pace, eventually making Octavia softly scream with three fingers, four just too much for speed. No, Octavia loved three fingers best.
A long while after finding the right rhythm and pace, Celestia stopped and buried her face in Octavia’s twat again, so thirsty. The scent was maddeningly erotic; Celestia found her own box getting hot again. She sucked on Octavia’s clit and pushed her face in, her nose hitting some fleshy bridge, protecting her from accidentally slipping too far up her backside. Celestia bobbed her head up and down, moving to bury her tongue deep into Octavia’s lips and taste her hot, hot heat. When she inhaled, Celestia received more of an earthen, fermented scent than she anticipated. She reeled and replaced her tongue quickly with two fingers, blindly hoping to make Octavia never realize what happened.
To Celestia’s horror, that didn’t exactly happen, and her fingers slipped over the wrong side of that lovely flesh bridge that separated sex from mess.
“WOAH!” Octavia screamed, jumping so far she nearly humped the wall. Celestia sat back fearfully.
An apologetic smile crept over her face the instant Octavia looked back with a look of shock and something else. Celestia just turned her head a little, grinning suggestively. Octavia dismissed whatever she meant.
“Sorry,” Celestia said with a chuckle. “Honest mistake, in the heat of things. But, while we’re stopped, go ahead and get on your nice butt.”
Accommodating for space, and grateful no more words were fired, Celestia slid out of the way so Octavia could sit down. With a huge grin, Celestia got down between Octavia’s legs, spreading hers wide so she could fit in the modest shower space. “You’re going to love this so much,” Celestia moaned out, inhaling Octavia’s sweet pussy. She bent her head down and licked her spread lips, the hot pink hidden beneath her light-olive lips, so thick and sensitive, Celestia was sure Octavia could, and liked to think she would, get off on her own very often. The thought of Octavia hiding beneath some big tree in a park somewhere, masturbating vigorously to whatever thought, and cumming while stifling her passionate moans by biting her finger, it got Celestia all kinds of hot.
Celestia moved forward with her masterful plan and lifted up her shower sharer by her wide hips, getting a surprised shout in response. Draping Octavia’s slick, hot, long, strong legs over her shoulders, Celestia immediately buried her face in her partner’s snatch. Octavia had to prop herself up on her shoulders some, but there were no plans to remain in this position for long.
With furious, burning passion, Celestia tonguefucked and clitsucked for a few minutes, the water only growing hotter and Octavia only growing louder. When a good bit of lost ground had been made up, Celestia stood tall on her knees and righted her back, feeling her vertebrae align and her muscles stretch. Octavia protested with harder moans, words seeming too tough. When Celestia heard that, she was content to move on.
Carefully, the princess laid Octavia down on the tiled deck and crawled over her body, a huge bounty of pussy juice in her mouth, just for sharing. She laid on her, both pairs of tits pressing into each other, and put her lips to Octavia’s, letting her drool and girlcum mix go in a lax of passion. The pair tongue wrestled, Celestia letting Octavia dominate her in her overheated state. Celestia remembered herself, and lowered her hips, spreading her legs wide and groaning louder as her groin muscles stretched. When their lower lips touched, Celestia broke the kiss, or maybe it was Octavia, it was tough to say who. A duet of harmonizing feminine moans sang out, a thumping bass almost like an ethereal heartbeat, vibrating through everything. The princess lifted and dropped her hips again, the hard, penetrating rumbling making Octavia’s hard clit twitch and flick her own.
When Octavia grabbed Celestia’s backside, the princess didn’t flinch. She melted, pushing her hips down into her companion’s, grinding and pressing her slit into the beautiful black-haired woman. Celestia was surprised yet willing when she found herself suddenly on her back, legs intertwined with Octavia’s, pussy lips coming in contact again.
“Oh goodness, yes,” she moaned out, propping herself up on her arms and pushing back into Octavia. They struggled at first, fighting to find a balance, but struck a magical equilibrium of force on force. The great reverberations were doubled suddenly, as if their length as one fucking beast doubled the reception, their spines one antenna. The sundering pleasure that she and Octavia created rocked her, the royal legs trembling nearly as much as her companion’s. Things picked up so quick, and Octavia’s little circles became spastic trembles, which evolved into shouting, shaking, vibrating, mind-numbing orgasm. Celestia heard her moans and felt the same fire burn in her, her sensitive lips receiving just as much pleasure as her subordinate's, and it felt so mind-numbingly good. She had had her orgasms before, but Celestia’s peak was long and rolling, and hardly climactic. Like a plateau, her pleasure was high, but not explosive, no release, just the thigh-twitching, toe curling euphoric buildup.
Octavia screamed out as loud as she could, her shrieks of pleasure piercing through the deep, thudding, prodding bass. The princess felt water spurt against her lips, her hard, hot, tingling clit getting hosed with Octavia’s hot girlcum. She tried hard to press back against Octavia’s spasming thrusts, lifting her ass in the air and attempting to wrangle her down to the tile and sit on her like an off-balance washing machine. It was nearly impossible in both of their compromised states, but Celestia found a way to sit up and ride Octavia like she was a sex toy.
Even with her ideal position, Celestia couldn’t cum. She was so high, so close to finishing, but her rising action reached no peak, and even while Octavia squirming under her felt good, she was falling like a rock again.
Defeated, Celestia carefully got up, her legs sore some. She let Octavia come around on her own, then gladly kissed and hugged and stroked her hair when she stood again. Celestia loved the touch of her skin so much, the intimacy worth the denial she just experienced. Still, it would have been so nice to cum again.
“How was it?” Octavia said, whispered. “Did we both, you know...”
Celestia grabbed Octavia’s full, tight ass with both hands and pulled her roughly, using her arms to squeeze her tight. The princess craned her neck back, her clit still so warm and her sensitive breasts pressing into her partner’s. The bass stopped and started, louder and harder, disrupting the flow of water. “I got very close the second time, but not quite.”
She gasped, leaning back against Celestia’s embrace. “My-my princess, I’m so sor-”
Suddenly, their lips met, Celestia giving an executive order to shut up and not spoil this. Octavia understood and complied without a word, yet softly moaned as her hands reached up and touched about Celestia’s wet hair and face. The royal tongue slid into Octavia’s mouth, finding more weight in her arms as her lover’s knees buckled a little. Celestia, however, didn’t feel weak. A force unseen, a feeling like a second wind during a race grew through her body. Not a lustful resurgence but a whole energy revival, like she had slept and eaten a well rounded, large meal. It took more effort to not push Octavia against the wall and take her again than it took to hold her up.
Just when the lustful urge to dominate Octavia, smack her ass until she screamed for mercy grew to be unbearable, she stood on her own and pushed off, breathing roughly.
“Princess,” she whispered, parting the royal bangs as lukewarm, and chilling, water draped it over her face. “Do you feel that? Us? Like coffee kicking in, right?”
Celestia nodded. “I feel it,” she said. “Do you think it’s the nanos inside? You brought your generator inside here?”
Her partner nodded, the sweetest smile growing, her thick lips parting to reveal a shining white smile, perfect beyond compare. Celestia was grateful she had ran her tongue across the symmetric beauty of Octavia’s teeth, tongue, and every space between.
“Are we done then?” Celestia sighed, cranking the knob hard to boiling and getting no noticeable change.
Octavia nodded again. “I’m not sure what was more wonderful: the soap or the sex.”
What would have normally warranted a roll of the eyes received a happy smirk and a gentle caress of the cheek. “Both were lovely,” Celestia agreed. “We should definitely indulge again. In both, if possible. I...” she trailed off, a giant smile refusing to leave. “I just don’t want to leave.”
The next long, gentle, moaning, intrusive kiss was initiated by the bewitching Octavia. At last, Celestia halted another trip to the tiled deck with her hand turning off the water, but that didn’t stop the kiss.
They stumbled out of the shower into the fogged bathroom, Celestia backpedaling and finding the toilet. She sat down, panting hard, Octavia in the same heated condition on her lap. She smiled wide, laughed, and ground her hips around a little.
“Would you like to watch me towel off, princess?” Octavia whispered. Gladly, Celestia said.
Her companion sauntered to the towel rack opposite her princess, swinging her wide hips and bending over slowly to pick up one plush blue towel. Octavia inhaled as she dragged her fingers over her ass, standing up straight as she did. When the blue towel hung between her legs, Celestia could see her pussy contrasted against it, her pink-tan lips still very wet and very tight, yet a little puffy. Celestia wanted to kiss and suck on them very much.
Octavia took up her lush black hair in the towel, expertly wrapping it up. She walked back to Celestia and immediately began to bend over in front of her, presenting her tight ass and her pussy, just visible through her cheeks.
“Wanna go again?” she whispered. “We’ll be quick, I’m sure no one’s in a hurry anyway.” Octavia’s silken chocolate voice made both of Celestia’s lips water. She had no choice now.
Celestia reached out and grabbed Octavia’s ass, squeezing it hard and getting a vocal response from her partner, revealing both of her wet holes. With her other hand, Celestia touched herself, biting her lip as she felt Octavia up and looked over her exposed goods, not a hair in sight. With her left hand busy between her legs, flicking her hard, throbbing clit, Celestia gently stroked her two fingers along the little flesh-bridge between Octavia’s watered little pucker and her hot, dripping pussy lips, so fucking pristine she doubted they had just done what they did.
Throughout her many, many years, Celestia had played with anal, but never really deliberately penetrated another person’s asshole. Right now, she felt very inclined to just touch Octavia’s exit-only, just to see what would happen. With a sigh, Celestia gave up trying to reason why she wanted to and followed through. Carefully, and with a little pussy-play to warm up and wet up, Celestia took her first finger, her other hand now furiously masturbating, and just lightly danced around the anus. Octavia didn’t protest, only looked back, a mix of shock and confusion on her face.
“Celestia...” she said, her arms shaking as they clasped her knees for support.
The princess stood quickly and gave her pussy-juice drenched fingers to Octavia, muting her. “Just, just bear with me,” Celestia said in an intense quiet. “I don’t know why, but just let me have this, Octavia.”
When Octavia’s eyes looked up and met hers, Celestia knew she could do anything and get away with it. That look said more than she thought any could. With mouth agape, Celestia sat down heavily on the warm seat and spread her legs wide, her pussy burning. She slipped in two fingers and did her hardest and fastest and her best. She licked her dirty finger and was surprised not to find much taste at all, after the shower. Celestia moaned and spat on her finger, then stuck it to Octavia’s asshole again. Slowly, her fingertip penetrated, the rim puckering around her. Octavia made a sound like a moan and relaxed, arching and unarching her back. Celestia saw in her peripheral that she was pinching her nipples.
Past the nail, things turned very hot very quickly. A wetness and a heat nearly sucked her in, but Celestia, her two middle fingers on her left hand pumping furiously, carefully and slowly penetrated, pulling back against the suction as much as pushing forward. Before she knew it her whole finger was inside Octavia’s ass, a sight she didn’t expect to get off on. It was so filthy, but it still made Celestia’s knees twitch and her toes curl. She wondered what it must feel like.
Celetia watched her knuckle come out, then pushed it back in, biting her lip as Octavia winced. “Does that hurt?” she asked. Octavia nodded and bit her lip, looking back with the sexiest eyes in existence.
“Mm hmm, but I kinda like it,” Octavia whined. She sighed deep and began playing with her wet clit. Celestia’s knees began to twitch as she furiously pumped her fingers in and out of her own dripping cunt. Suddenly, she pushed her finger in all the way again, groaning with her love partner as she pushed back. Celestia caved first, her shoulders coming forward as she doubled over in pleasure and pulled her finger out. Gasping, Octavia jumped forward as her majesty’s knuckles caused her asshole to open on its way out.
Eager to continue, Octavia looked back over her shoulder to her princess, stooping over a little more and spreading her ass wide. “Princess,” she began. “If I may be so bold, could we... follow my lead?”
Her eyes transfixed to the little brown eye between her subject’s legs, now exposed and wet and begging for penetration, Celestia smiled. “Very well.”
“Okay, just go ahead and, uh, put it in. Slowly. I’ll move and,” she stopped, voice shaking more than her legs. “Just... you’ll figure it out.” Celestia smiled wide, all four of her fingers pressing into her own clitoris as she gently prodded and teased Octavia’s asshole. It went in in sudden phases, small chunks of time separating each knuckle that slipped in, ending with an awkward attempt to bury the whole digit in in spite of the rest of the fingers getting in the way. Celestia attempted to dip them into Octavia’s wet cunt, but she could only manage to stretch her ring and pinkie fingers that far, and it was hardly comfortable. Octavia smiled idly while she tried, though, grinning as she bore the discomfort. She began masturbating right as Celestia took her fingers away.
The sexy ensign arched her back and sat down against Celestia’s hand, a dirty smile growing from ear to ear as Celestia pushed against her. She leaned back harder, nearly putting all her weight on her princess’s hand, then stood up more, sighing as her leader’s finger slid all the way out. They did it again, Celestia’s finger slipping in well and pushing hard against her anus, then coming out wetly. They built a slow, heavy rhythm, a thudding sound forming as Celestia gently stuck Octavia’s ass over and over again. Somewhere in the dirty mix of things, Celestia had moved her leg between her partner’s and she sat, her dripping wet cunt pressing heavily down into her thigh. Octavia nearly screamed in joy. They went faster, Octavia’s back curved more than ever, her chin perpendicular to the floor and her pelvis parallel.
It took much begging and pleading, but Celestia was convinced to use two fingers, then three, but they had to stop at two: it was just too much too soon. She was convinced to use only one finger after a little bit of this furious fucking; Octavia was complaining of the pain. Still, Celestia was so turned on by the raunchiness of this position, a hot, slimy twat grinding up and down her leg while she stuck Octavia’s back door with a ravenous pace. Celestia found her skin more slick and hot as they went on and on, moaning more and more.
Several times, Octavia slipped off, and they had to stop to adjust after the fourth time, but the pair quickly reached one screaming, gushing, intimate orgasm each, both within a few seconds of each other. When Celestia’s eyes came back to focus what was in front of her, Her lap was a wet mess and her companion was the same on the tiled deck, her back contorted in the last pangs of her whole-body orgasm.
Finding her balance, Celestia gingerly helped Octavia to her feet, holding her close as they stood together. Celestia wanted another quick shower.
“C-Celestia...” she moaned, her shoulders, knees, hips, everything shaking mildly. “I c-can’t-”
BANG BANG BANG! Three loud knocks on the door. “Can’t they find a different bathroom?” Celestia hissed. She sat Octavia on the commode, wrapped her up tight in the dry blanket, and stole the remaining one holding her hair for herself.
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG! Celestia wrapped her torso and wiped her hands before she grabbed the deadbolt latch, carefully standing behind it, ready to shoulder it closed if need be.
She looked back to Octavia, who seemed to be recovering, still shuddering slightly in a sexy way with her back straight and her palm on her forehead, then down to her clean, filthy fingers. The princess gulped, gripping the latch and handle hard, harder than she thought she could. She hardly felt tired, not anymore. “Who is it?” she shouted with a steady, strong voice that betrayed her fluttering heart and surging adrenaline. The thudding, droning bass was no longer there, at least for the moment. How long had it been gone?
“Ya mutha!” Celestia sighed out loud. “Open up, girls, I gotta race like a pee horse!”
Celestia undid the latch and opened the door, still coiled and ready to close it, needlessly, it seemed. Tree Hugger was alone. When she entered however, heading for the toilet right away, stains all over her tight-fitting white blouse, she stopped in her tracks. The president stopped in her tracks and sniffed the air, a knowing grin spreading on her face. Octavia didn’t lift her head. She didn’t need to.
Tree Hugger opened her mouth to say something, but when her eyes met Celestia’s face, she just smirked, hardly needing to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and said: “I do gotta pee though. Rode hard and put away wet has a whole new meaning when you get out of the shower. Jeez, did you break her?”
Octavia chuckled. “Maybe...” she mumbled with effort. “Only a little.” She forced herself to stand, smiling as Celestia caught her and her towel, denying Tree Hugger a cheap glance.
“Sorry,” she whispered to her as they held each close. “Let’s just get dressed quickly, okay? Think you can stand, sweetie?” The pet name was sincere, if not accidental.
When Octavia took a deep breath and pause, then nodded, Celestia let her go, ignoring the sigh of relief from the president. She warranted that this was possibly the most uncouth meeting of leaders the world had ever seen. Well, her world, she reasoned.
Doing her best to occupy her presidentship, Celestia turned and blocked her eager peeking at Octavia with her own body. The thick green towel was barely enough to protect her own modesty. “Mada-”
“Hey, princess,” Tree Hugger interrupted, swinging her feet on her porcelain throne. “You know why the music stopped?”
“Not a clue, madam. Should I care?” The princess opted not to turn around.
“Heh, if you care about Tony’s face not getting punched in, you might. That guy,” she paused to flush and pull up her shorts. “That fucking guy, oh my fuckin god, that guy spilled like, a lot of beer on the power strip half the speakers and the amps were wired out of. It’s not like we can run down to the god damn store, you know.! It could be DAYS before one of the wizards fixes it, gadammed electricians. I came in here to avoid the commotion. I had to pee, too.”
“Yes, I got that,” she said, grateful to watch Octavia zipper up her suit. “Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” He’s rather good at making those, she thought to herself.
Washing her hands, thankfully, Tree Hugger said over her shoulder: “Like that matters? He killed the lights downstairs on ‘accident’. The damage is done up here, too.”
“True, true,” Celestia said after a sad sigh. She was uplifted right up by a tap on her shoulder. She gave Octavia a kiss, touching her shoulder and feeling her still twitching the slightest bit. To her even greater delight, Celestia beamed when Octavia gave her a smart little smile. She was so soft spoken, so subtle, the emotion in her small gestures came across magnified. “So,” Celestia said to Tree Hugger without breaking away from her recovering companion. “Is there a mob or what?”
“You bet your sweet MILF ass there is.” A twinge of petty pride and resent flew through the princess’s mind. “That guy couldn’t talk his way out of a greasy paper bag if you gave him a script. I guess. He’s shitty, you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know how he got to captain, honestly,” Octavia whispered as Celestia picked up her uniform, reluctant to drop her towel.
Celestia turned, uniform hanging like a dead fish in her hand, and gestured at Tree Hugger for some privacy. The president, however, dug her heels in by crossing her arms and leaning against the stainless steel sink. Princess was outranked by president, apparently, and Celestia dropped her towel, receiving a pair of hungry eyes and sly grin as applause.
Getting back into her uniform, which had only aired out a little bit, was very tough with wet skin. Her legs and feet and thighs and ass caught on the latex-like material, but once her feet were through and her ankles were hugged tight by the suit, Celestia just had to enwrap herself. Despite telling herself she was indifferent to it, she was uncomfortable under Tree Hugger’s watchful, hungry eyes. Yet at the same time, she was obviously a little grateful for them. The way her backside was lifted by her suit caused a little heat to go to Celestia’s face, holding in the desire to be touched and touch her companion.
Pushing those thoughts away was easy enough now that her lust was somewhat sated. Still, her crotch flooded with warm blood and Celestia was sure a third round would not be unwanted.
“Awrite awrite awrite,” President Tree Hugger said in an exaggerated drawl. “Now that the finest ladies are all suited up and ready to do some steppin’, why don’t we git? I’m sure your pal would appreciate the backup.” Tree Hugger turned around and stuck her little ass in the air, scooting back to a beatbox striptease. Octavia giggled.
With a little stretching, Octavia gave a big thumbs up, holding her rifle and Toru’s scrapped one, eager to proceed. Celestia tugged her boots all the way on and sighed one last time, smiling as she looked into Octavia’s pretty purple eyes. The feeling of finally having her, not conquering as much as mutually giving intimacy, was sublime.
With no pomp or caution, Tree Hugger cut short the sweet moment by throwing open the door. She leaned back and walked out, completely owning a lit, empty dance hall. There was a man on stage sleeping in a puddle of his own spit, Monty, Celestia remembered. In a pair of chairs at a table in the corner slept two other partiers, one male and one female, no doubt overzealous and now sleeping like babies. No person left was over thirty. In the opposite corner, near the bar, was a set of double doors. Tree Hugger led them this way, a heavy beat playing so loud in her head it came out her mouth in spitty hums and beats. There was shouting on the other side of the door, louder and louder as they slowly walked up.
Celestia was still getting used to her suit again, so she was glad they weren’t going fast. She was hardly in a hurry to reclaim Toru from angry clutches. His body could wait as long as it needed to, for all Celestia cared.
Again with feeling, Tree Hugger threw open a set of double doors with a metal “CLACK”, loud enough to turn every head and stop every conversation. The hot, damp midnight (or later) air was thick with tension, a herd of ten or so angry Americans huddled around something, their haughty conversations abruptly halted by hers truly.
Celestia gripped her weapon tight, scanning the crowd. Everyone turned to them, eyes going wide, but they weren’t struck with fear. They all seemed to be drunk, or at least every single person had a drink in hand. The older folks had obviously drunk themselves to bed earlier, as the crowd here was youthful, barely adults in some cases. Celestia was sure Tree Hugger wasn’t the youngest. “What the piss is up out here?!” Tree Hugger shouted.
Silence. “I asked you a question, people! Our very important peoples here have to get their move-along on, and we can’t be holding them up any longer.”
Celestia held her weapon low, but tight. The crowd was quiet, but tense. They kept their eyes on her, mostly, but also her companion. Some, thinking they were hidden by bodies, dropped their hands to their belts, an obvious sign that they were armed. The princess’s heart beat faster, her adrenaline starting up again.
People shuffled slowly, and Celestia saw a dull glint of black gunmetal. These people still resorted to powder-projectile weapons, likely all they had. Very loud, very messy, and extremely lethal. The air was thick, but the princess had a job to do.
“Toru!” she shouted. “Are you out here?”
The people shifted, reluctantly turning heads where the captain was. A short pause, then “Princess!” he called, the captain’s voice groggy and slurred. A few people scoffed. “Princess, I, here I am! I can’t tell, guh, tell you how happy I am to hear your voice.” He scrambled to his feet, pushing past people as he scuffed his boots on the concrete.
Celestia felt sicker after seeing him. His blond hair wet with something other than water, she hoped it was beer, and his uniform was stained with all sorts of colors in a deep triangle around his chest. Her own suit splotched with mud along her lower legs, she was unsure how it could get stained. It was waterproof.
“My princess,” Toru mumbled, shuffling forward from the crowd. What Celestia saw made her grip her rifle tight. There was blood on his head, streaming down in rivulets from minor cuts, but there were also all sorts of bruises and scrapes on his unshaven face.
She didn’t catch him when he fell at her feet, alcohol strong on his breath. They hadn’t been busy in the bathroom for that long, Celestia reasoned while clenching her teeth. How much did he drink? Could a senior officer not be trusted in public anymore?
Octavia stepped forward and helped him up. It was obvious he was absolutely hammered. He wasn’t walking anywhere on his own power for some time. When he burped in her face, Octavia nearly dropped him out of disgust, gagging at the revolting stench.
Seeing him in this state, representing her own nation so poorly, and gaining so much hatred in such little time made the royal blood boil. “Captain!” she shouted with authority. “Why are you falling over, covered in your own puke?! Please, give some explanation. Why you are acting in a manner unbecoming of an officer and a gentlemen in a foreign nation?!” Celestia was nauseous with pure rage and the smell of toxic fumes emanating from the drunken spacer.
“B-ugh… Princess, what happened was…” he trailed off, tears choking his voice, his body nearly limp in Octavia’s unwanting embrace. She looked up, but Celestia was far too furious to acknowledge her unfortunate position.
“What happened, captain? PRAY TELL, something OUTSIDE of your control occurred, in no manner of your own doing, that made you become such a victim of circumstance. Enlighten me, make me see the truth! You,” she said, pointing to a fairly harmless female in the crowd. “Can YOU fill in the gaps my subordinate cannot?”
With a shrug, a rub of her arm, she answered. “Well, miss um… princess,” she started. “He was drinking and drinking, liquor, I think it was tequila. Anyway, he was hitting on Amanda pretty hard, so she shoved him when he got too close-”
“HE GRABBED HER ASS!” a male member of the group shouted.
Celestia kept her gaze on the little woman, her twig-like frame and tight clothing quite pretty. “And, I guess he threw up on an outlet or a power strip or something.”
Nods and “yeah”’s floated up from the congregation, little burps and sobs from the captain. “Well, Toru, is that truthful?”
“They sp-ucked my drink,” he murmured, pathetically trying to get a foot under himself. Octavia cursed lowly and laid him down. Celestia did not object.
“Sounds ‘bout right,” Tree Hugger added softly. “I say ducktape him to the flagpole and put old fry grease on him. Mosquitos love that stuff.”
As revoltingly right as that punishment felt to Celestia, no jail time, no wasting resources on holding a drunk captive and feeding him, she couldn’t let that happen. “With all due respect, madam president,” she began. “He… I hate to say this, but he’s with us. I will compensate whatever property he damaged and we can work something out about the booze and harassment, but we need to leave as soon as-”
“No!” a woman cried out, her voice shrill and piercing. “Leave now!”
Everything fell silent as she stepped forward. The voice’s owner emerged from the crowd, a hand cannon the size of her head trembling in her grasp. The barrel, shaking and pointed right at Celestia’s head, was as long as Celestia’s forearm. Her dark blue sweatshirt was drenched in some bodily fluid, acrid and chunky and yellowish. White crusts on the outside flaked off in weird patterns, and her jeans were not spared, either. Her full frame was still quite thin, strong, she was likely under twenty years of age.
“Go, go now. Leave, or your blood will flow. There are bodies buried here, and yours will be with them if you do not leave!”
“Calm down!” Tree Hugger screamed at her, waving her arms frantically “So he hurked on you, chill! I know it’s gross, Amand-”
“This man is EVIL! He’s VILE!” Her shrieks hurt Celestia’s ears, yet the leather she held was still shaking. It must weigh a lot. “He and his kind do not belong here, they do not belong! Get out now, before I send your souls and his to the DCC!”
A support in her chest broke and Celestia’s heart sank. This woman was either crazy or Toru had done more bad in his time here. “I don’t understand,” she began calmly, seeing no calm in her new foe’s pretty blue eyes. “We’re tourists, coming through on our journey! Let us go, and we will walk to the DCC ourselves, madam! Listen-”
“Go, then! There are other worlds than these!”
Everything seemed to stop except the wavering muzzle of her large weapon. Everyone else openly brandished their steel now, too, though her piece of metal was the only one directed with intent.
“We will, right now,” Octavia said flatly. “Farewell, America. Thank you for your kindness. Our companion is yours to punish.” With that, she abandoned Toru, turning her back on him. Celestia, surprised and shocked as ever, could think of no reason to dispute, nor could she muster the words if she had.
A small handful Americans passed Toru and continued with their president and guests to the perimeter. The rest, Celestia tuned them out, her gut wrenching up in disgust at him and her mind blocking out what horrible things were his fate. Whatever untold horrors he committed, let him pay the price. Otherwise, it just felt like the thing to do. Certainly not right , but not really wrong; just was. It felt certain.
Celestia thought over this as she and Octavia were escorted to the edge of the swamp, the muggy early morning air surprisingly chilly. When they reached the perimeter, the arid landscape continued on from beyond some dirty little trees as if the swamp never was there. The humidity was obviously lower, too.
“Bye bye! Thanks for not murdering everyone!” Tree Hugger shouted, hugging Celestia close. The princess felt blood flush her face when Tree Hugger’s teenage face smushed into her adult bust, but there was hardly any point in teaching manners to the president now. Celestia bore it, pushing Tree Hugger away gently the first chance she could; her whole body ached less now, but it still ached.
Princess Celestia, one foot on the red dirt and another in the American swamp, waved to her and the remaining Americans, a final farewell as grimy music crackled from the “boombox” one older, particularly hairy man carried. Most were inside, too busy with fleshen priorities or hangover collecting. A dozen or stood outside in a loose group near the president, none too familiar to Celestia.
“What?” came from someone.
“Idun fuckin know,” someone else replied. Celestia felt that her crew’s valiant efforts would not be remembered. This whole affair would likely be paved over come the next election. Independence day was a bigger event that a visit from the princess, apparently. The drinking had been rather competitive, after all.
Octavia shook Tree Hugger’s hand professionally, but was sucked into another quasi-lewd embrace anyway. When Celestia met eyes with Octavia (for what must have been the thousandth time today) the rush of blood came back. The way her ensign’s face turned red was too cute, and Tree Hugger’s guiltless, perverted fervor was admirable in a somewhat honorless way. True, Celestia did desire to bury her face in Octavia’s full breasts, but she would never in front of a watching crowd, nonetheless just do it.
Looking away, the heated princess blew air through her teeth. It was hardly fair, what Tree Hugger could get away with. There was no point, they were leaving now. Toru got a half-assed handshake goodbye. Needless to say, he was quite miffed, yet what leg did he have to stand on? He contributed absolutely nothing to the progression of the troupe thus far, aside from being another body to fire at back when the gun demon had slung, and repeatedly hindered their progress and image. In fact, Tree Hugger orated straight from Celestia’s mouth, he had a detrimental position. “Annoying, ugly, useless sack of shit,” was the words she had used. The princess was sure more tact was to be applied if her self were to dole out the tongue lashing, but it wasn’t her’s to give, not now. He was no longer part of the quest, so he may as well not exist.
Celestia’s canteen had been replaced with a new, full one, and the DCC was one cliff closer than yesterday. Celestia thanked the stars as they were escorted to the perimeter that they could at last continue. How soon would she would finally have some clue as to what they were doing? The princess hoped it wouldn’t be long.
Celestia turned to Octavia to discuss the new miniature isotopic radiation actuated and grounded electromagnet as Toru returned, two escorts with two big guns holding him up, and dealt some words to the president. The princess decided to ignore them for now, even if it was hard. She tossed some new name ideas out, brainstormed about a new possible casing, and mostly gushed with Octavia about the insane do-it-yourself look the mechanism had.
A normal PIAR is what it looked like, and that’s what it was, with a strange attachment instead of a barrel. It looked rather like some alternative weapon, like a grenade launcher, but a close look would clearly reveal it to be a redirection of the muzzle, like piping. The whole contraption made the weapon off balance, but that was hardly an issue, as obviously it was no longer a weapon. It couldn’t fire. If the PIAR did discharge, it would render the device inoperable, and the bots would lose power, and Celestia did not think about the rest.
The princess opted to carry it like a satchel, protecting the delicate, yet heavy, sterling generator and magnet with a faux-leather briefcase just big enough for the device. With the additions, the PIAR’s new weight was more than triple the original. The ensign respectfully, and unrelentingly, insisted upon carrying it herself, but Celestia’s mind was made up. She understood, however, that she would be willing to open negotiations after hours of hiking.
“How can yugh say that?!” Toru nearly shouted with hostility, breaking their little palaver. “I was fuhgun knogged the fuck out! BAM! Howud I be expectud to do anythin after that?! That hurt, ya know.”
A finger and a thumb squeezed the bridge of Octavia’s nose, yet she did not turn around. Celestia placed a knowing hand on her companion’s shoulder. She pulled her in without thinking, and was compelled to whisper in her ear. “It’s okay,” she said, not thinking of what or why she was. “We’ll figure out something.”
Equally unexpected, yet equally welcome, was an embrace from her subordinate. Celestia held her breath, her heart skipping a beat and then taking off as Octavia’s long, black hair brushed her cheek. The princess smiled, glad the captain was facing away, and returned the little hug. She placed her hand on Octavia’s head and held her close.
Tree Hugger’s furious rebuttal seemed harsh, but it faded as Celestia’s eyes closed, absorbing the joy and relief that flooded her body. The small of Octavia’s back was right where her hand belonged, Celestia’s shoulder the exact place where Octavia’s lovely head should rest. Everything seemed in place, even if the party was possibly miles and miles from its destination. The flush came back some more when Octavia’s gentle, warm breath brushed her ear; it was just a sigh, but Celestia couldn’t help but enjoy the way it made her chest rise and fall against her own.
“Maybe,” Celestia barely whispered. “Just, maybe... we could sneak in some, uh, girl time, if-”
“What was that?” Octavia asked, slipping out of Celestia’s longing arms.
The princess swallowed a baseball sized lump in her throat, but her heart still thundered in her chest. She hoped no one else could hear it frantically thud away. “I, it was... nothing, Octavia. Don’t worry about it.”
Octavia turned quickly, spinning Celestia back into reality. The ensign turned around just as the princess focused her eyes beyond the beauty in front of her face, and gave a wink.
It was there, she was sure of it, Octavia just winked! Had she heard what she said?
When Celestia turned her head back to the regrettable captain and the underage president, her uplifted heart crashed to the bottom of her chest again. His fist was raised and coming down fast, yet slow, as time again seemed to crawl. Toru brought his heavy arm down quick, and it connected. Tree Hugger screamed, and Toru fell. Celestia flinched, her eyes shutting, but not quick enough to miss the dynamic gore of a giant explosion, then half of Toru’s head come off the other in a red-white-pink frappe. Celestia heard his heavy body hit the mud with a splash.
She opened her eyes to see her first real stain: a long red streak created by an angular skull fragment as it slipped down her lower leg. The princess lifted her rifle with her eyes, followed shortly by her ensign. She saw the woman from before, her pretty hooded sweatshirt still disgustingly stained, her handgun shaking more than ever.
“G-go. N-n-n-ow,” she whimpered. “Go!”
The pair went, leaving Toru’s closed-casket corpse behind.
“We should have at least buried him,” she said in a hush. Celestia registered what her companion had said, yet continued on, forcing her eyes beyond her toes to keep them, Celestia and Octavia, on track. The beam was hard to follow if you weren’t paying attention, even though it swept everything like a river towards the nexus called the DCC. Toru’s lead smashed face dwelled in the princess’s mind, the color of his ugly gore too similar to the dirt she and Octavia crushed under each step.
The sun was going down now, thankfully, and the baking heat with it. Time had dragged on, yet the angry hornet's nest behind the princess's unfocused eyes rioted with thought after unfinished thought. Images of Octavia holding her weapon preceded ones of her nude. In them Octavia had her slick, oiled olive-colored arms enwrapped a pole, her body spinning around it. Just when she began to enjoy the picture, Celestia’s internal cinema showed the next slide with Toru's corpse, also nude and his face hamburger, his gross, hairy pile of junk hanging between his legs.
Stop that , she told herself. Thinking won’t help. Just follow the beam and get out of here.
Where is here? Celestia looked up, going cold inside at what she beheld. An indomitable behemoth of rock and silt loomed over everything. It was just a bump on the horizon a minute ago. She couldn’t see even the top anymore. What was blazing pink-orange earlier was black as obsidian in the twilight.
The sight took a few unthinking steps to sink in. Everything was in dimmed light. The white clad explorers stopped to digest their environment. Celestia knew they were heading uphill, but it seemed like a fairly short period of time, definitely less than an hour. Time was bizarre here, indeed. She turned as fast as she liked and looked back to the swamp, which was surely still pretty near, and was surprised to see nothing but a orange expanse, a sliver of the horizon still lit by the blazing sun. No green dot, no cliff from which she fell, just a vast flat expanse. To the left and right of herself were plateaus, of sorts, areas that flattened out after the climb they had made. They looked like shelves, dotted with enormous rocky pieces and, to her wonderment, regular shapes. On both sides, what nearly resembled concrete or clay defied the irregular jaggedness of the rocks, but also the plain flatness of the surroundings.
In front, immediately, the path of the beam turned into a flat road. Celestia had not noticed, or cared to, in her distracted state. It continued far behind them, and deep into the veritable mountain in front. Wild cliffs and boulders flanked either side, but the steepening way looked viable for a decent sized vehicle. Shame they didn’t have one, as sweat had built up in her suit during the expedition, and the faster mode of travel would mean less time to dwell on unpleasant things.
“It’s an ocean,” Octavia thought aloud. “Or was, look. You can see the shoreline all around, and that looks almost like a lighthouse.”
“Huh?” Celestia muttered, following Octavia’s lazy finger. A cylindrical orange-pink-red item stood from the ground a few hundred feet away. The object was definitely built by someone, something, manufactured from materials. The tower-like ruins were hollow, further reinforcing Celestia’s and Octavia’s guesses.
She looked ahead again along the path, the ever stronger path that now seemed more and more like a river that Celestia was neck-deep in. The force was compelling, pushing her along, almost, like a stiff wind was coming from the northwest. The air was still. She began walking again.
“Celestia?” Octavia said, stopping her with a touch on the shoulder. The princess turned, tired again. Walking all the way here wasn’t so bad, but now it felt like she had worked hard for hours.
She dropped the muzzle of her weapon to the dirt and held onto the butt. “Yes?”
“I want to talk about it,” Octavia said flatly, her big eyes demanding she comply.
Celestia sighed and paused to think, but instead remained silent. She had no words that she thought could help.
“I’m just- it…” She brushed her long black hair behind her ear and breathed deeply. “I just can’t come to grips with it.”
“It hurts, I know,” Celestia said softly. “But it’s the type of thing that even when it happens, things still need to get done. The sun will rise again, no matter who’s there to see it. Octavia, I need you, and I need you all the way. One hundred percent, or nothing. What lies ahead will surely try us both.”
“I-I understand.” Octavia looked up. “I’m sure it will get easier as we continue, princess. But… I’ve never done that… even tried that before.”
“Look, we-” Celestia’s throat caught, Toru’s death no longer the only thing on her mind. “What exactly are we talking about?”
Octavia’s face was bright red. She touched the zipper of her suit and pulled on it, undoing the outfit imperceptibly. “Your… f-finger, in my.... I just- I fucking loved it, okay? Do you like hearing that, princess? I just love the way it felt, oh my goodness… Celestia, I know it’s bad, but I’m…” she trailed off, her soft voice fading into the background dust, her beautiful eyes holding water.
Speechless herself, Celestia’s lips hung open in the dry air. She took one small step forward and was nearly taken to the ground by Octavia’s sudden embrace. Celestia hugged her back, feeling soft, full lips on her collarbone. “Ah…” Celestia moaned, the touch too much and too soon. She took one big handful of Octavia’s bottom, the tight flesh responsive to her ruling grasp, and pulled her away.
“Later!” she hissed, nearly giving in herself. “I don’t- we can’t do this right now, not when we’re so close.”
Octavia backed away and sat on a boulder, leaning back against the jagged rock behind her. She spread her legs and breathed deep, composing herself. Her hands went up and down her open thighs, but didn’t go where Celestia wished she could go the most. “I’m so sorry, Princess. I’m… so hot right now, it’s hard to go on. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“You better think about finding the DCC for just a bit longer. Come on,” She said, picking up Octavia’s discarded weapon. “We’ll fuck later, alright?”
Octavia scoffed and half fell to one knee with some effort. She held her head up and her body followed, her feet under her once again. “Alright. Let’s get moving.”
The pair continued in tight formation, but there were no more breaks to copulate. They walked along the path up the smooth, steep, wide slope. Something was certainly meant to go down, or up, this path of sorts. What was the oddest was that the road seemed to stop abruptly only a quarter mile or so from it’s source, a gigantic opening in the rocky cavern ahead. In addition to that, the slanted slope wasn’t flat, but concave, like a gutter. Celestia walked down the dead center. It rose around her, however, each line on either side left the center behind. The curved slope reminded Celestia very much of a pinball track. The pair climbed on either side and readied their weapons.
They reached the opening above them. The track continued into the miniature mountain, which was now becoming pitch black in shadow. The moon was out, a bright, bright, almost blue crescent in the sky which lit up things like the sun. It, however, was of little use once they were inside the gigantic insides of the cave.
Her eyes adjusted quickly to the pitch black insides. The duo clicked on their flashlights, bathing cones of sweeping light once again across whatever they aimed at.
When she saw what was in the cavern, Celestia stopped in her tracks. Piles, heaps, mountains of rusted metal laid in mishmash jigsaws everywhere. Were they scaffolds, walkways, assembly lines, or any other machinery, Celestia couldn’t tell. Nothing was intact, and most was brown-orange in her flashlight’s circle.
“Watch your step,” Celestia said aloud, her voice distantly echoing off the solid walls. Octavia was close behind, her flashlight constantly scanning left and right, up and down. The circle never really reaching the ceiling.
Celestia misjudged a step and kicked a heavy square, cursing at the pain in her shin. “Fuckingpieceof-” she stopped, surprised to find something non-metallic. “Wait up,” she breathed back over her shoulder. “Look.”
Octavia did. In front of them on the cement laid a white plastic sign, about ten feet long and three feet wide, that read in big blue block letters:
D · C · C
DRYDOCK CONSTRUCTION CENTER
Octavia fell to her knees on the sign, deflated, defeated. “A shipyard. An ancient, forgotten, dried up, piece of shit fucking shipyard! We came all this way for this?!”
Celestia was speechless herself, Octavia’s breaking of her normal calm composure fell to the side of her worries. They had reached their destination, or nearly just. This wasn’t over.
While Octavia vented her frustration into furiously stomping the sign, Celestia investigated further into the depths of the DCC. She refused to believe this was merely a long-dead place where water-sailing ships were made. She felt it. In her bones, there was an urge, a stubborn little core, that denied, defied that simple explanation.
The princess continued on in the enormous interior, the sound of plastic cracking echoed off the walls, the parallels reporting immediately but a later reply a second or so after. Ahead in her path, with no apparent bypasses, was the heap of metal, mostly rusted bits by now. She climbed. Hand over hand, she grabbed the most solid bits where she could, where rivets and bolts didn’t protrude and rust hadn’t made little knives out of the bars. There were no solid pieces, and once she was one overhead onto the pile, every beam of quarter-inch thin metal creaked and groaned a squeaking protest. The pieces whined in lower and lower pitch as Celestia went up and up, like a child becoming more serious with his protests to waking up. Soon, however, she was on top, and swung her leg over to begin descending. “Octavia!” she shouted.
Her companion looked up, white and blue splinters sprayed about her in the white circle Celestia cast. “Come on,” she said, noting the splits in the remaining sign. The junior of the two shuffled awkwardly to catch up.
As she climbed down, Celestia took her time, taking glances back. There was, she was sure of it, a door. About a hundred feet off, she was sure it was there. The floor was bare, no tracks, no debris, just bits and pieces of rubble and plenty of dust. The air was turning hotter and more poisoned by iron floating in the air with every hand over foot.
At last, Celestia got back down to the cement, and Octavia not long after. They walked in silence, Celestia now sure a light was coming from the door. The warm air became hot, and muggy, the moisture content nearing one hundred. Celestia’s skin crawled over her tense muscles. She pointed, and Octavia nodded. They remained noiseless, weapons ready, steadily walking until a faint ringing came into the princess’s ear.
When Celestia turned to ask Octavia if she heard it, she saw her companion and friend doubled over, clutching her ears and holding in a scream of pain. Celestia got on one knee to grab Octavia’s arm when she felt a thump, then another, far off, like a tap on the glass.
“Come on,” she hissed under her breath. “Come on, we gotta get to the door, okay? Get up!”
Thump.
Celestia picked up her own gun in her weak hand and ran with Octavia coming around, regaining her power to act quickly. “I’m okay,” she said, trying her best to keep her feet moving.
Thump.
Celestia slowed up a little, noticing all sorts of doors and square holes and giant angular offshoots of the main cavern to other wings and areas. Ahead, no more than seventy feet, was that door. It was blue, she saw, deep, saturated blue with white markings.
Thump.
Celestia and Octavia were now nearly sprinting, passing one of the giant intersections without even looking around the corners. Celestia sucked the hot, poisoned air and tried to just run faster. Ahead was the coming door, the one place in the universe she desired to be. Octavia, slightly smaller of stature, was now nosing ahead. Another giant intersection loomed, the pair running along the body of the T, the magic door smack in the middle between either leg.
Thump.
They stopped, Celestia sliding on her toes. They reached the door together, Celestia less gracefully than her companion. Celestia wasn’t mistaken; the door was clearly navy blue with black and white swirls, dots spread throughout like stars. She didn’t hesitate to grip the silver doorknob, but a sharp shock caused her to release it instantly.
“Ow!” the princess yelled, turning away and shaking her hand out, like that would throw the pain away from her fingers like water.
“What, what?!” Octavia asked, eyes wide, wide, tensely looking up and down Celestia, then the door, then Celestia again, all within a second.
Thump.
It was louder, now, much louder. “It shocked me!” she blurted. “Keep a lookout, I’ll fry the door knob.” Octavia lifted her weapon to the ready and covered both sides and the rear as Celestia simultaneously charged her shot. She doubted a little metal knob could possibly be an obstacle after enough molecular kinetic energy to vaporize a hundred pounds of steel instantly was sent through it, but she charged her PIAR that high anyway.
Thump.
“Just one second!” Celestia whisper shouted. Her PIAR whined a higher and higher pitch, overloading higher and higher, until the heat on her supporting hand was too much to bear. Celestia screamed from the pain and gripped harder, squeezing, not jerking the trigger until it discharged.
vvvVVVVVV-THRAK!!
The door flew out off it’s hinges and impossibly exploded past them, missing both Celestia, who was right in front of it, and Octavia, who was at her shoulder. The pressure wave didn’t knock the princess back, but it did shock and deafen her. Black-blue smoke and fumes billowed out from behind the door, suffocating and blinding them both. In the chaos of the dead ship-building cavern, a creature long dormant sprang forth from the secret door of the DCC.
Celestia’s feet were taken out from under her right away, pulled by unknown forces, sending her hard to the concrete. She landed square on her ass, then fully prostrate. She was dragged silently into the midnight-black depths of the secret door, lungs emptied of any air to scream with. Octavia, however, found luck in reflexively retreating away from the door. She escaped the growing cloud and turned in place to see black masses of organic matter slithering forth like snakes. They were emanating out plodding, yet rapid, mostly blind. Octavia somehow knew if she could avoid the tendrils, or snakes, or whatever the tubular dark masses were, she had a chance of retreating further. They were dumbly seeking out, and had surely seized Celestia, but Octavia resolved to get away. They had made it here, which meant they could do anything.
The ensign shot one tentacle, vaporizing an inch or so of it’s body and severing the tip. The severed section twitched and danced itself out in a second while the rest spastically flailed in pain, grotesquely whipping it’s shorter length around. The smoking section where it had been cut off bled white goop all over. The disgusting substance solidified quickly, and the intact creature still grew and slithered, ignorantly unphased.
Octavia’s stomach churned, yet her feet knew what to do. She turned and ran away, or attempted to. She shrieked bloody murder when her feet were quickly taken out. Her rifle flew forward, and the last thing she saw before she hit the ground hard was a heavy tentacle lurch up and smash her weapon like a twig.
When she hit, she hit hard, her chest impacting the cement. The fall caused her to bounce up and flip over as she was dragged by the ankles to the smog-shrouded door.
“NO!” Octavia wheezed, out of breath. She kicked frantically, digging her heel into the living rope as much as she could. It was no use, and she was moving too fast to hope to sit up and do anything. Warm tentacles slithered around her thighs, arms, midsection, chest, hands, neck, every bit of her, and lifted Octavia into the air. She closed her eyes in the opaque blue smoke, adrenaline flowing and tears streaming. She whined one last scream before her mouth was gagged by a smaller, hot, slimy feeler.
Even though the fog suffocated her, Octavia’s nostrils cleared, and she found she could breath the hot air easily, despite the shocking situation she found herself in. When she could, Octavia opened her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart. Her breath had returned a little, so she resumed struggling. It was hopeless to fight, but she had to.
Pitch blackness engulfed her, still, but there was warmth besides the pulsing pitch organs entombing her. Octavia flexed her muscles, attempting to remove the pain digging in her side. The smooth, slippery tentacles weren’t jabbing like what was in her hip, so what was it?
She realized at once: the heat engine, the Stirling generator she had made! Even if it was useless, Octavia had one last trick. She knew if she could just undo the generator piping from the hot end muzzle of Toru’s PIAR, a blast of heat would sear whatever was in front of it. That is, if the weapon weren’t already crushed in her bag. She closed her eyes and felt with her right hand stuck to her thigh. If she could squirm just right, Octavia could do it. With luck, her best guess at the rifle’s orientation was correct, and was pointed right at a thick organic cable around both her legs. She resented the way she liked how it was squeezing her thighs and butt.
“Okay”, she mumbled around the tentacle between her teeth. Octavia breathed deeply in through her nose, then blew out around the wet, slimy, salty cord, spraying warm goo out in sticky strands. Octavia grunted, flexing and tensing up, trying her best to give her hand just a little room, that’s all she needed. She pushed her ass out and pulled the lip of her satchel up with her fingertips, then bit down on the revolting tentacle in her mouth as it squeezed her tighter.
She felt the hot metal elbow at the muzzle of the PIAR. All she needed to do was unscrew the set screw that held the generator onto the hot end, then she could yank it off, and hopefully not burn her arm too much. She decided not to think about the bots in her bloodstream that would die, releasing gamma rays and neutrons and protons and electrons and positrons and neutrinos and antineutrinos in lethal abundance in less than a microsecond, then more and more every specific half-life she could remember from power school.
She had it. With her nails, she managed to undo the two small screws a few turns and could finger loosen them out. She had it. Octavia was as good as free, at least she chose to believe, until a light suddenly came on, bathing her shut eyes in yellowish light. The tentacles spasmed and went limp within a second, jiggling and writhing as they fell, and Octavia with them.
“Hello?” a man’s voice asked from behind a desk, but Octavia couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t perceive much when she was swimming in receding adrenaline. “Hey, hello?”
Octavia flipped onto her front and brought her arms underneath her, spitting out disgusting slime and coughing up more. She heard him now, but wasn’t in much condition to get up, or even respond.
“Hey, who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked again. Somehow, Octavia thought he was younger, his voice lacking the gravel of an old man or the mirth of a true adult.
Octavia fell onto her side. She managed to prop herself up on a pile of limp jet-colored tendrils. Their texture was smooth, yet when they curled around in their limp state, Octavia saw that they were also rough in patches. Cylindrical in construction, the creature’s limbs were soft and mushy, like old fruit, yet returned to a pipe-shape when she let them go. They definitely could get firmer, Octavia vividly remembered with a shiver.
“What?” she spat, out of breath, her fingertips on her right hand throbbing from mild burns. “Where… Celestia? Where is she?”
“Our Princess Celestia, you mean?” he asked indignantly. “She was escorted into Princess Luna’s office. Answer my question, miss, or you will be asked to leave.”
What a silly thing, Octavia thought first. She opened her eyes to a brightly lit interior room, white walls with white fluorescent lights hidden behind slick fixtures. In front of her was a blurry man, his outline slowly sharpening to reveal a picture-pretty boy of a man. His neck was thin, but his features were sharp. Shoulders that sloped supported crossed, surprisingly thick arms. Octavia wiped her lips and got up, finding herself unharmed. She laughed, mostly at herself, for allowing this episode to frighten her so much.
“Octavia,” she said with confidence. “My name is Ensign Octavia, an officer in the Equestrian Royal Space Command.”
The first human in a long time sat down in his high-backed chair behind his desk. The wall behind him read:
DCC
Dream Control Center
The man, in his simple white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, typed something into his computer, gave Octavia a blatant appraisal with his blue eyes, and sat back. “Well,” he said with a sigh. “You’re in the system alright, but you’re early for your appointment.”
“My what?” Octavia asked, lifting her arms and remembering she didn’t have what she held more dear than anything. Well, almost anything. She crossed her arms under her slime-covered chest instead. “You… aren’t concerned with… with this?” Octavia asked with a gesture. “I-I mean-”
“Did I stutter, lady? Your appointment.” He spoke louder and slower, a serious pet peeve of the furious woman. He interlaced his fingers and ran his back and forth across his soft, perfectly styled black hair. “But since the Princess’s schedule for tonight was flexible anyway, I’m going to risk MY neck JUST for you, and call in to see if we can’t get YOU what YOU want.”
Octavia ground her teeth like she wanted to grind his face into the white wall, or his white desk. Appearantly, being abducted and bound by a monstrous alien creature and dragged into the office was a common occurrence. He cracked his fingers and sighed, like it was a great burden to reach for the intercom. It buzzed, and he asked into it: “Your Perfection?” and waited.
It was tough not to roll her eyes, but self-control was a virtue to Octavia.
They made eye-contact while he waited for a response, and Octavia neither showed discontent nor impatience. She also did not blink.
“What is it, Thalamus?” a giggling woman asked through the clear speaker. Octavia’s stolid stare was shaken when she recognized a second voice there, underneath, not tense but smooth, sweet, as if she wasn’t just abducted against her will. Celestia was inside, supposedly with Luna. Both princess, here? Despite her best efforts, especially after tonight, Octavia was surprised.
“Your Supremacy, your three o’clock is here early. Shall I send her in?” He let his finger off, but remained near the intercom like a dog waiting for a treat.
“YES! Oh my gosh, yes! H-hold on Celestia, Octavia’s here!” The intercom went blank for a moment, but the secretary and the officer could clearly hear muffled discussions. “Octavia, come on back, sweetie. I’ve been w-watch it, Celestia! Try that again and you-”
The intercom cut off this time. Thalamus, if that was his actual name, was unphased. He shot the red-faced woman a look a mocking sibling might give. “You heard her,” he said condescendingly. “Go back there.”
He turned and resumed whatever pointless business there was on his computer. Octavia dropped her satchel into the crook of her arm and watched her step as she walked to the door on the right. Reverting to her Academy days, she knocked solidly three times and entered.
As her toes broke the plane of the plane office-like doorway, everything hit Octavia like a ton of bricks. She was herself again. While she was before, she was again, Octavia, principal cellist in the Equestrian Naval Philharmonic Orchestra, a junior officer in the Equestrian Royal Navy, Ensign Octavia Melody. Yes, she had just trekked across miles and miles across an alien desert, but wasn’t she in her hotel, cuddled up in the mid-summer night? She thought back hard, squinting her sweat-tinged eyelids, back to her last night. Scratch had been there, or was she still? Octavia remembered her well, like she had just been with her minutes ago. In her memory, Octavia remembered hugging her secret-ish girlfriend from behind, her womanhood a little sore, yet warm, hot, even. But, wasn’t she here, now? Where was Vinyl Scratch? Where was her lovely new big bed she had just booked on the government's dime? Where was her alarm clock set to four thirty in the morning so she could get up and run for two miles, with abdominal and chest exercises? Where was her dress uniform, her relatively meager two ribbons already prepared for tomorrow’s quarters? Where was she, really?
Dream Control Central was where she was, so she must be dreaming, Octavia easily reasoned. It seemed so obvious, but what happened before was so real, so vivid, and she remembered it so well. Was this still a dream? It had to be. It would explain just about everything. Before she could piece together everything on her own terms, the still-sleeping musician received an abrupt interruption.
“Octavia!” Princess Celestia called out over her shoulder, springing up from the large, raised bed in the center of the room, leaving her royal sister in a giggling mess. As she ran towards her, Octavia managed to steal an observatory glance at the sights of this strange place a little more. Huge television monitors covered every wall, showing all sorts of lands and rooms and other settings Octavia couldn’t quite recognize in the instant it took her ruler to leap from across the room.
She was plucked up in a big bear hug by a half-clothed woman. Octavia hugged Celestia back, her body already feeling warmer and less solid, especially when their breasts pressed together. “Oh, I was so worried we wouldn’t make it, Tavi,” Celestia whispered in her ear, the warmest, smoothest sound she had ever heard.
Bathing in the wet kisses Celestia showered on her face, Octavia kept herself together. “Me too,” she managed, before locking Celestia’s passionate lips with her own. Octavia barely felt the floor under her when she was lowered down. She was much more focussed on Celestia’s tongue in her mouth, the hands on her back and her own hands on Celestia’s butt.
Suddenly, the taller sister pulled back, releasing Octavia wetly. She nearly fell over, wandering forward for more. “Gotcha!” Celestia laughed and led Octavia, blushing, by the hand to the circular, raised dais that was itself an enormous bed. Luna slid her pale, bare and slender legs along the sheets to make room. They were a very silky dark blue, exactly like the walls, pillars, Luna’s immodest clothing, impossibly gorgeous hair, eyes, lipstick, nails, and nearly everything else in the dim room. Octavia felt naked with her face and hair not done up for the princesses. In the past, even during her rebellious days, Octavia had always complimented her own natural features, when she desired to impress. Even if she attempted to exemplify humility through her life, Octavia was well aware of her beauty. Her girlfriend, Vinyl Scratch, recently made sure to remind her daily, as well. A little more color came to Octavia’s cheeks as she recalled vividly the last time her girlfriend had reminded her, two fingers deep inside her. “Oh my fucking goddess, Octavia, you’re SO fine!” she had said, Octavia recalled, her thick lips lifting in an embarrassed grin. That was the most recent night her real self had experienced. The Equestrian Naval Philharmonic Orchestra put on a spectacular concert in it’s home station of Canterlot, and Vinyl Scratch was of attendance, the single recipient of Octavia’s three allotted guests.
The concert, by Octavia’s standards, was above average. By Vinyl Scratch’s ear, and unbeknownst to the cellist the royal twin’s, it was the most beautiful performance that had ever been performed.
That was last night, or the same night, as Octavia was sleeping. She and Vinyl had made love, or fucked, or had sex. Now, Octavia was dreaming, sharing in an epic with her superiors. Fraternization did not even fit this scenario. There was unduly familiar relationships, and then there was this.
In the DCC now, Octavia held her hands to her shoulders and felt the pressure of being in the presence of greatness and power. Even in such a personal setting, the weight of raw, magical power Celestia and Luna combined brought forth was very physical. She thought to bow, or not? Octavia did so anyway, her knees shaking as she did so.
When Luna giggled, Octavia stood erect and shivered, her entire face, neck and shoulders cherry red. “M-my princess,” she stuttered. “I-I…” Despite herself, Octavia had flashbacks to her Officer Commissioning School, the drill instructors barking so hard spit flew forth, the visual and verbal threats at the slightest misalignment or lack of bearing.
Octavia blinked away Gunnery Sergeant Hoofman’s bulging eyes and veiny neck, gulping hard at the knob of guilt and fear in her throat. Making eye contact back then was much scarier than jumping off a cliff. When her magenta-encircled pupils met with Luna’s blues, the fear shattered like a mirror, exposing a feminine warmth. Octavia blinked, and smiled wide.
Princess Luna bit her lip and sat up on her knees, leaning forward and letting her loose blue gown hang low, letting her peek. Luna’s boobs were mosquito bites compared to her sisters, but they could easily fill a B cup bra. Octavia lifted her arms under her own bust, 34C. “Relax, miss Octavia. Or is it ‘at ease’? You’ve arrived. You won… sweetheart. Is that, right, Celestia?”
Octavia’s eyes snapped to her companion, who nodded slowly, looking Octavia up and down. She did the same to her other ruler, noting the matching pink gown Celestia wore. It hid nothing. Celestia’s hair was messy and frayed before, but now it seemed to be glowing, flowing with a gentle yet intangible breeze. It hung lower than earlier, the tri-color length nearly reached Celestia’s tight ass. Her great breasts could easily be double E’s. Each peak sported taught perfect pink nipples that poked into the upper hem of her night gown, the upper half of the circle rose above like the sun at dawn. Just like in the shower, Octavia could see every curve of Celestia, even the sexy little lines in her hips that flowed to her womanhood. She missed touching there and everywhere very much.
“You’re not relaxing, Octavia. I need you to loosen up, or else this will be a lot less fun than We have been anticipating.” Luna stood up on her knees and beckoned with a finger. “Come, let us unwind after such a perilous journey. We have a lot to discuss, and We are certain you have inquiries in abundance.”
“I, Luna,” Celestia softly added.
“Dammit!” Luna shouted, flying onto her back and throwing her fists out, laughing as she did so. “It is hard, Tia!”
“Oh, I know, baby, I know.”
Octavia focussed and forced her legs to untense, then the rest of her body. With great effort, she closed her mouth and took a step while Celestia got friendly with her sister.
Her toes touched the sheets. And then, the incestuous implications hit Octavia like a tall wave, and she froze up again. “P-Princess Celestia, and… You and Luna are…”
“Not related!” Luna shouted when Celestia pinched her sides, tickling her violently. “S-stop! S-to-op, Ce-estl-ugh!”
“Stop being so CUTE and I will!” Celestia laughed voraciously and pounced on her not-sister, burying her face in Luna’s neck.
“Stop… oh, Celestia, stop, stop, We’re serious!” Octavia bit her lip when Celestia got onto her knees, spreading her legs for leverage while also giving Octavia another reminder at her lack of underwear.
Sighing deeply, Celestia relented and laid back, closing her legs around Luna’s in a tangle. “It’s a long story, Octavia, but Luna and I are not related, blood or otherwise. I don’t want to bore you-”
“Our parents lived on a distant, advanced planet and came here five-thousand years ago, and We were born four-thousand years ago. We were raised in this land, and using Our unique powers and technology, easily dominated the beginnings of humanity. Our new homeland was founded from the nomad’s ashes of campfires, and that is why history never mentions time before Equestria, as We invented history as you know it. Celestia came from another spacecraft before Us, and she was their leader, thus older than Us, and is therefore my older ‘sister’. That word is also known as sharer of responsibility, in Our language, the original definition. Sister now means female sibling, just like a surfeit of words from before mean different things today. We think it is exceptionally interesting how one’s mouth changes the meanings of words change, over time.”
A thick silence dwelled, uneasily broken by Octavia. Ever one to take in a lot of information quickly, she stored the history lesson, which was absurd, for later. “So… the royal sisters are not related? So… this isn’t…”
“Incest?” Celestia asked flatly. “No. And Luna, remember, ‘our’ means a collective possession, not singular. Do you still understand, sweetheart?”
The sugary name hit Octavia as strangely as the first time, but it hit. “Y-yes. I understand. When you, Princess Luna, use ‘our’ or ‘we’, you are referring to yourself?”
Hiding her face under her hand, Luna nodded. She was beyond cute, the way her face turned all red, her little hand hiding her little smile. Celestia’s tall, imposing figure radiated power. Luna’s however, was more coercing, timid, manipulative, yet her humor was good, her heart pure. Perverted, Octavia easily deduced, but well-intended. The youngest by far of the three women found herself grinning despite the heavy-seeming situation she found herself in.
“Then yes. I understood your words perfectly, Princess, but I don’t know if I believe them. What about the theory of evolution? Creationism? The Big Bang-”
“The only 'ism' I care about right now is tribadism,” Celestia said aloud lightly performing the act with her sister, whom gladly smiled and reciprocated. “Are we going to write a history book or are we going to get it on? I’m so horny it hurts.”
“Ah!” Luna scoffed, grinning with a wide-open mouth. “Celestia! I can’t BELIEVE you! Saying such things…” She trailed off, giggling, wrestling mildly with her big “sis”. In the fray, Celestia rolled on top, then pulled Luna on top so that her backside was to Octavia, and pulled the blue lacy nightwear over her ass. Octavia’s pink face flooded to crimson when she saw a tight, white, young, perfectly round ass bare in front of her, legs spread, showing everything. She saw it all, every inch of censorable flesh, and she wanted it. Octavia’s hands moved on their own, and she began breathing in short, fast breaths as she realized what her body was doing. The ensign got on her knees and grabbed Luna’s great butt and pulled her cheeks apart more, bathing her holy pleasure in bright light.
Luna arched her back and let out a moan, not saying anything, yet saying everything. Octavia bit her dry lip and moved in closer. She kissed the soft, hot skin just above her ruler’s backside, then again, and proceeded to rub and lick and gently bite all over Luna’s amazing ass.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Celestia murmured. “Come on, Luna, tell us if you like it.”
“Mmmn,” the princess of the night moaned out. “Yes, I absolutely love it, Octavia.”
“I can’t see, sis,” Celestia whispered. “Tell me all about what Octavia’s doing back there. Oh my goodness, it seems like fun.”
“It is!” Luna said with a sharp inhale. “Oh… it is, Celestia, oh… Octavia, let’s continue after a quick palaver, shall we?”
Octavia tasted the tip of her right pointer finger. She savored the mouth-watering flavor of just a drop of her princess’s pussy well. “May I undress, Princesses?”
“You may,” Luna replied as she tossed aside her gown, opting to lay nude with her big sister, holding in her hands two very large, heavy breasts. Slowly, Octavia pulled on the sturdy zipper holding her eager, hot, young body inside her rubber-like, skintight, airtight suit.
“Stop!” Celestia shouted, her legs rubbing together, stirring up the silk sheets. Octavia laid her hands on her hips, her cleavage only beginning to show. “Zip it up, all the way. Make sure every seam is tight. Then turn around and show us your curves, Tavi.”
Octavia obeyed. She pulled the zipper to the top, feeling the collar constrict her neck just a bit. She surprised both princesses by dropping her reserved manner with a little grin, throwing her hips to the side and bringing them back, then gyrating as she turned. Octavia spread her legs and pushed out her butt, resting her fingertips on her strong, shapely thighs, then dipped down as far as she could. As her long, messy, black hair touched the ground, her suit pulled on her throbbing pussy lips just enough. She stood again and looked over her shoulder, feeling just how tight her ass was with her hand. Biting her tongue, Octavia grinned and gripped her right cheek hard, giving the sisters a peek. Suddenly, miss Melody was grateful for the daily 5 A.M. torture of a workout she forced herself to do.
"Yes..." she heard Luna whisper, out loud or to her sister, Octavia didn't know.
This definitely time out loud: "Take it off, Octavia. Then stand in the square on the floor to your left."
Right where Luna said, a white glowing box, no more than three feet by three, had appeared on the floor with no indication as to it's purpose. It was nearly adjacent to the raised circular platform and bed. The square was also level, the far side flush with the gentle slope and the near cut into the floor a few inches. It reminded Octavia of houses on a hill, the way the foundations cut into the ground to be level.
Finally , Octavia thought. She maintained her burlesque demeanor and unzipped her uniform slowly, her sweaty skin gasping for air as it was freed, the hot surface cooling quickly. Octavia gasped, the sensation of her sensitive bosom being cooled by her sweat intense. The horny girl, smiling a seductive smile, swung her hips as she pulled the zipper down below the perfectly snug inseam. A tiny pleasure switch in her mind closed as her hot pussy lips became exposed to the bedroom air. Celestia and Luna both breathed out little hungry moans.
“Do you like it?” Octavia asked, giggling.
Luna and Celestia nodded, sitting up in each other’s arms.
Grinning, she shed her uniform and ran her hands over her slightly sweaty skin, her body heat escaping rapidly through her wet skin. Once she felt bored with moving her hips and legs and hands around, which took a long while, she stood bare, unashamed and only slightly blushing for her bedmates. “Alright,” she whispered, smiling a little. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Oh fuck yes-”
“Wait, Luna,” Celestia interrupted, holding her sister down, a kitten’s evil and playful grin on her face. “She just walked a thousand miles and got abducted by that tentacle monster, right? I think Octavia could use a shower.”
“Oh…” Luna breathed, trailing off as Celestia kissed her on the neck, groping her body with her own. “I… I think so, too. Oct-a… Octavia-stop! Celestia, come on.”
With a little groan, the older, tanner sister relented. “Fine. Octavia,” she said, addressing her subject and partner. “Go on, stand in the square, please.”
“O-okay.” Octavia said, and obeyed. The moment her timid toes touched down inside the lit area, a gentle rainfall began from above. Octavia recoiled instinctively out of the waterfall, looking up to find it had come from nowhere. The ceiling, she finally noticed, was beyond her vision. The walls just went up forever, leaving the source of the water a mystery. She reached forward into the square with her arm and was startled by the sight she beheld: the shower emanated from the air above. It just appeared from about three overheads, no other source was apparent.
Realization washed over her like waves. At first, the simplest explanation seemed impossible, outrageous. Then, it was impossibly, exclusively the only possibility. This was the DCC, dream control central. The rumors of princess Luna being in control of dreams seemed too accurate and convenient. Where was she now, and with whom? Octavia let the impossible be reality and rinsed under the wonderfully warm water, well aware two women were watching her.
Her libido came back around as the imaginary sweat rinsed off her warm skin. Luna had magically placed shampoo at her feet, behind her, naturally, and Octavia gladly bent over for it. The ensign took her time, lathering, rinsing, repeating many times, pressing her body against conjured glass for her girlfriends, front and back. After asking permission, she even washed her womanhood, her lips and within. Never before had Octavia felt as clean as she had when she left the magical shower.
A super soft, positively plush towel found her, and next a revealing little black babydoll dress. It fit perfectly to no one’s surprise and didn’t cover anything. Luna and Celestia welcomed her into bed at last with open arms, and open legs. The silk sheets caressed her soft, hot skin just as the princesses did, their hands gently and greedily holding her curves captive in a loving embrace. Celestia pulled Octavia’s chest to hers, feeling her supple breasts with strong, sure hands. Luna snuck behind and cupped them, her hips cupping Octavia’s bottom.
The princess of the night wan in a dominant position, then the princess of the day dominated her, and finally Octavia found herself on top of the bustier, bulkier of the pair, grinding her hips into her thick ass, massaging her shoulders deeply. The trio mingled limbs and lips and locked into a complicated monster with three backs, Octavia moaning the quietest.
Some time elapsed, it was nigh impossible to say how much, and Octavia’s throbbing womanhood ceased to receive any input. “What’s going on?” she asked in a giddy whisper, the taste of both princesses drying on her lips. “Why did we stop, Celestia? Luna?” The ensign sat up and found her hosts on their knees, devious smiles on their faces.
“We wanted to start, is all, Octavia,” Luna began.
“Are you ready?” Celestia followed up, licking some of her favorite subordinate’s fluid from her finger. Octavia nodded and sat with her legs crossed.
Luna went down to lay on her side, plucked up a small black box, then returned to a half-sitting position. “Very well.”
With one movement of her thumb, she clicked a single red button on her box. Instantly, a blackboard appeared, floating near Luna. “Oh, We forgot to show off Our favorite toy. Octavia,” she said. “This is Our- my button. We, I, press it and click- whatever I wish to happen, happens. For instance, if We want a pair of stout handcuffs to appear and restrain my sister,” Luna held her button up and clicked it deliberately. As mentioned, a pair of pink handcuffs materialized from the ether and caught Celestia before she could flee. Even though she struggled, Celestia was left laying on her side, her hands cuffed behind her back. “It happens. Now,” she continued, draping her body over her grunting and struggling sister. “We would never do that. Could never! It would be rude, would it not, Celestia?”
“Let me go, Luna! Let’s at least work up to this, I mean-”
“You are SO right, sister! And when you are right, you are right. And you, Celestia? You are always right! We should gag you, too!” With a little giggle, Luna grinned her evil kitten grin and clicked the button again. A midnight blue ring gag appeared in the air this time. It flew immediately to Celestia’s lips, but she bared her teeth.
“Celestia…” Luna cooed. “Open up and quit being so lame!” In a rather violent show, Luna gripped Celestia’s mouth and squeezed her cheeks just enough to squish her lips and part her teeth some. The ring gag flew on it’s own accord between Celestia’s incisors and leveraged her jaw open. The straps wrapped around her head and fastened themselves behind, securing snugly. Octavia found her leader’s vulnerable position very effective at making her horny, even if it seemed too forced.
“Luna,” she finally spoke, interrupting the little sisterly bondage session. “I think Celestia’s right, shouldn’t we… you know, work… up, to this? I think that a gag and handcuffs are a bit much. I mean, we haven’t even started.”
“Haven’t we, Octavia?” Luna asked, pulling her big sister up and holding her from behind, Celestia’s huge breasts in either greedy hand. “The safe word is ‘BANANA’, okay, Celestia?” Luna emphasized the word as she pulled the straps tight, the motion yanking Celestia’s head back.
“Oaay, Woowa,” Celestia managed to say, her lips curling into a smile. Octavia felt a world of relief wash over her after seeing that her ruler was at least consensually being restrained. Just seeing the way the gag fit in Celestia’s jaws made her own mouth hurt. She supposed the resistance was part of the fun.
Octavia rubbed her jaw without thinking and moved closer to her princess. “Is that, a list?” She asked Luna pointing to the floating blackboard as she settled in next to Celestia.
“Exactly,” she replied, Octavia smiling as she kissed her restrained companion on the cheek. “If you think of any kinks, positions, toys, fetishes, anything at all that you would like, feel free to add it. Just tell me and I will put it up.”
“Okay…” Octavia replied, trailing off as she read what was already on the little floating board. Tribadism was first, then fingering, oral, strapons, plugs, vibes, handcuffs, gags, ring gags, cocks, doggystyle, and last on the list was cum, underlined. “Quite a start,” she said, her mind overflowing with sticky, dirty thoughts that put a smile on her face. Octavia spread Celestia’s legs, her soft, hot, shapely, thick legs, and began kissing her way down to the royal valley.
“Face sitting!” Octavia suddenly shouted. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”
“Oh please, Octavia,” Luna casually blew. “We hope to hear much more shouting. In fact, We will write that down as well: facesitting,” click, “and screaming,” click. “Sounds like a difficult combination. Come on, sister!” At Luna’s instigation, Celestia shot up to stand on her knees with a little grunt. The younger sister put her lips to the elder and hissed: “Your subject needs your wet pussy on her face.”
Celestia winced in pain again, but held her tongue. Octavia could see between her legs, Luna’s hand buried in the tender flesh of Celestia’s great round ass. She placed herself under Celestia’s warmed-up womanhood, the royal subject’s feet facing away from her mistress’s face, and opened wide for her wet treat. With her hands on Celestia’s hips, Octavia closed her eyes and tasted pink euphoria at last. The tart, tangy, metallic taste never got old, yet it wasn’t something she wanted to get used to. The vulgar, bodily flavor enticed her taste-buds, her mouth overflowing with a saliva and vaginal fluid drink. Octavia’s tongue dove this way and that, playing with the sensitive inner lips hidden under the outer folds. Celestia was so hot it was contagious, and Octavia found her own hips trembling, her pussy leaking, throbbing for a touch.
Octavia let out a long, deep moan as she sucked on Celestia’s clitoris. Octavia’s legs stirred the sheets as she buried her face in, her brow furrowing as she released a tension she didn’t know she was holding in. The warm, slick skin of her cheeks slid over Celestia’s thick thighs as she ate her princess’s delicious and juicy pussy. The weight of her highness’s body on her face and the smell of saliva and her companion’s fuck-hole in her face broke open a gate deep in the ensign’s mind, letting out a flow of love and stress and longing, fueling forgotten hungers.
The junior member didn’t forget herself, though. She was present of mind enough to move her tongue deep into Celestia’s hot pussy, tasting all over her pretty pussy. Octavia liked to think her own vagina looked clean and comely, too. By comparison, however, Celestia’s was downright picturesque, especially when Octavia was nose-deep inside. The outer lips seemed puffy, and extremely sensitive. Suddenly, Octavia had an idea, something she had happened across on the stickier side of the internet during her curious college nights.
What stopped her, however, was not her own volition but shock. Octavia gasped, sharply inhaling the hot, moist air, sputtering and coughing into Celestia’s leg as Luna gently rubbed her throbbing clitoris.
“Are you alright?” Luna’s voice asked. Octavia swallowed and coughed a little more, nodding as she did.
“Y-yes,” she spat, then kissed Celestia’s clit as a form of an apology for the interruption. Octavia was very glad her ruler liked that. “Luna?” she called out.
“What is it, sweetheart?” She became a little more intrusive with her fingers, for which Octavia was grateful.
“I had another idea, f-for the board.” Again, Octavia sucked and licked Celestia’s pronounced pink clit. Luna suddenly broke Octavia’s oral fixation with a jab of her finger. “Ow!” Octavia shouted, her legs flexing and lifting into Luna’s body, but not forcefully. Luna’s finger chilled her insides, but quickly began to warm her, gently pumping Octavia’s cunt. She treated her g-spot just right, and Octavia melted right there.
Luna pulled out her finger and resumed teasing. “What was that, sweetheart? I could not understand you.”
“Ahn… I forgot-no! S-stop, I remember. I need to sit up, though, Princess… es.” Octavia bit her lip and prayed that Luna wouldn’t put her in some other form of bondage for interrupting.
“Very well,” was all she said. Octavia heard Luna suck her finger and smiled as Celestia was helped up and off of her face. The ensign sat up and licked her lips, smiling as they gathered again.
Luna clicked the board back into existence. “What is next?” she asked, massaging her upper leg.
Octavia swallowed. “I’m not sure if we want to do this right this second, but I had an idea of using, um, a… suction, vacuum, on Celestia’s pussy. Like-”
“Yes! A thousand times, oh yes, yes. Yes. Right now, this is happening, yes!” Luna clicked twice, sequentially putting “vacuum” on the board and spawning a fairly simple cylindrical device. One end of the clear plastic toy was a flared end, perfect for Celestia’s wet lips. The end of the short tube was a rubber hose, leading to a simple pump, much like an old blood pressure measuring device.
Luna’s face grew and evil grin as she gave it a few test pumps, testing the suction on her palm. It worked. “Oh, but do you think that one good kink deserves another? We see no-. I see no reason to just have Celestia’s pretty little pussy lips all puffed up for nothing. I think those thick lips could use something.”
Octavia blinked. “S-something like what?”
At that, Luna let out a little chuckle. “Do you trust me, miss Octavia?”
Luna stood tall on her knees on her comfortable bed and offered the weird little sex toy. Octavia reached out and took it, or tried, finding Luna’s fingers holding the tube firm. She looked up and found her eyes locked with the princess’s, but only briefly, as she was tackled in a sexual grapple. The ensign found herself laughing and tangling and wrestling with her princess, reflexively resisting against the tickling pinches and invasive touches, attempting to slip out of various pins and attempting, with deliberate feebleness, to pin Luna back. Octavia laughed out when she let herself lose, sighing and moaning as Luna claimed her prize. Octavia ran her fingers through her princess’s long, flowing navy blue hair as her pussy was licked and sucked and tongued with intent. Octavia would have been completely content with continuing if Luna had not stopped.
“What’s going on?” Octavia asked distantly. “Why’d you stop, baby?”
“Baby?” Luna repeated with wet lips and a giggle. “Because,” she replied, dipping two dainty fingers deep into Octavia, eliciting a little scream of surprised delight. “It is time to continue. I hope you did not think we would settle for such mundane things like oral sex…”
While the officer did not understand, she sat up and remained spread. Luna was fingering her slowly, yet well, massaging her g-spot especially so. “Go ahead and flip over,” she gently commanded. “We… I trust you know how to use that, since you asked for it.”
Octavia shut her eyes and smiled, somehow managing not to succumb to the intense pleasure Luna was filling her with.
The junior obeyed, and rolled over, grunting as Luna twisted her two fingers around deep in her vagina, stretching the walls just a little. Celestia was still right where they had left her, her pussy lips dripping with excitement. Octavia licked the circular rim of her toy and carefully trapped Celestia’s thick lips inside. By the way her princess moaned out through her gag, Octavia assumed she knew what she was in for.
Aside from glancing at Celestia’s face, Octavia did not hesitate. She bit her lip and squeezed the rubber bulb once, the soft hissing noise echoing in her ears as the bulb refilled. Octavia watched the tanned, wetted lips through the clear plastic intently, and nothing happened. Luna bit her backside playfully and laughed as she really began to finger Octavia, harder and harder. The black-haired beauty adjusted the seal and gave another pump. Then another. On the fourth time, Celestia’s hips lifted a little as she grunted, and Octavia saw well that her pussy lips began to lift up inside the cylinder.
“Oh my goddess…” she whispered, and gave Celestia two more slow squeezes. The skin began turning from a beautiful tan and pink to an inflated maroon, bulging as they did so. Octavia yanked off the plastic toy, erupting the quasi quiet with a wet “flrap”, causing Celestia to cry out and Luna to chortle. Octavia shared in a surprisingly immature laugh, but was much more focussed on the sensitized, exaggerated folds between Celestia’s hot, tan, well-shaped legs. She buried her tongue inside the calescent cunt of her princess.
Celestia moaned louder and louder, but Octavia would not be sated that quickly. A thirst was born in her, even if she was only half-cognizant of it. The moment her womanhood and the perverted brain attached to it crossed over from her dreamscape into the partial waking air of the DCC, Octavia’s sex drive had been shifted into an entirely different gear. Luna kept pumping her cunt with two magic fingers, stroking her g-spot, uncovering more and more perverse fuel installed under her civilized mind.
Of course, Celestia was fully aware of the dangerous game Luna, and obviously herself, were playing. If Luna pulled back the controls too quickly, Octavia would give in too fully and become a sex fiend forever. It had happened before, only once, to a slut of a girl nonetheless, but it had happened, and Celestia had to reform their playtime quite a bit since. She did not want to make a Sunset Shimmer of such a gifted woman, one already inside her military.
“Luna!” Octavia moaned out loud, fumbling badly with her toy. “Oh… I’m close, princess. It’s… hard.” Celestia sat up and watched the grin on her subject’s face closely. The corners of her mouth were high still, Celestia’s subject was happily enjoying getting fingered by her own little sister, who was extremely experienced at that task. She was fine, for now. If she ever began gritting her teeth, they would have to start being careful. If those gorgeous mauve-pink eyes began to roll back and her tongue failed to respond, she’d be little more than a fleshy blow-up doll. Considering her conduct earlier, Celestia reasoned Octavia had more mental strength than just about anyone. Perhaps the taxing adventure they had shared did serve some purpose beyond mere entertainment.
Finally, Celestia selfishly thought. A partner that can keep up in bed. It’s been too long since we have had someone this good.
With a gaping smile, Celestia watched Luna help the weak-kneed Octavia fix the kinky toy to her pussy. Secretly, Celestia was never fond of the pump. It was hot, extremely kinky, and it made her lips blow up and tingle like no other. But the stinging! It stung so much, Celestia was ready to grunt out “banana” any second. Luna knew, but Celestia knew how Luna got in bed, and she was completely fine with that. Sometimes, Celestia thought. Just sometimes, it’s great to be punished… just a little.
“Gah!” the bigger sister cried out as Luna squeezed the bulb in Octavia’s hand.
“More, she says,” Luna whispered into Octavia’s ear. She let go and forced her pupil to do it, to torture Princess Celestia with sharp pleasure. Octavia obeyed, hands slightly trembling, pumping Celestia’s drowning twat five times, then six, then seven, eight.
“AAH!” She shouted, but Celestia didn’t want reprieve, she wanted more, needed it. Nine, ten, her pussy swelled out far beyond its normal size, turning a shade of deep red-purple. Eleven, twelve, thirteen pumps, and Octavia began to moan out, too, her eyes close to the epicenter. Fourteen, fifteen, and the seal broke, percussing another wet “fflroap”. Octavia gently screamed as she ate Celestia out again, lifting her hips up to better buried her tongue deep inside Celestia’s burning twat. Her hips were twitching on their own now, and Octavia’s enthusiasm only made things better. Celestia joined in the chorus with her own voice.
Her new toy ready with the click of a button, Luna carefully sucked her body close up behind Octavia, hoping the erotic trance her subject was in would distract her partially from her princess. Luna twiddled Octavia’s hard, hot, throbbing clit between her finger and thumb in her strong hand, her off hand clicking one more time. Octavia grunted a little harder, but kept shaking her face back and forth against Celestia’s gushing pussy. For once in a short while, Luna felt jealous.
No matter. Her own augmentation and Octavia’s future one were soon to progress the battle in bed very effectively. Instead of grinding her fingers and pinching Octavia’s clitoris, Luna pulled on it, feeling very strong throbs and getting very strong groans of approval. Celestia was being fed pleasure, so all was well, for now.
A little more strongly, Luna pulled and stroked the engorged nub of Octavia’s clitoris. She gyrated her hips, wet humping Octavia’s great ass as she pinched on the growing clit, her slick fingertips slipping off as she did so. Finally, Luna couldn’t take it, and slithered under her subject’s spread legs.
Just like Celestia had earlier, Octavia sat down on her partner’s face, but something was a little off. Luna buried her fingers inside, which was very nice, but her mouth only sucked and nibbled on her clitoris. The pleasure was mind-numbing. It was just outrageous, unbelievable, insurmountable, unstoppable, the single best sensation she had ever experienced. Her g-spot being massaged was phenomenal, but separate from the sensation of Luna’s suction on her clitoris.
Eating Celestia’s cunt took priority; her delicious flavor was paramount to anything else right now. She loudly swallowed and sucked air when she could, moaning as the puffy, hot, hot lips and even warmer inside fed her more and more delicious juice. Celestia, resting on her shoulders, was squirming and moaning like crazy, only causing the cellist to go harder. If she had a dick of her own, Octavia was sure she would pile drive Celestia into the fucking mattress.
Second by second, Celestia’s moans became longer, louder, nearly deafening. Celestia’s clit throbbed in Octavia’s lips as she sucked on it, her princess’s vagina drenching her chin. Octavia’s arms easily pulled the inflated pussy up and to her face as she devoured her favorite princess.
In the hurricane of shouting, moaning spasms, the sheen of sweat on her arms and her princess’s hips caused Octavia’s fingers to slip, but Celestia caught herself by wrapping her tense legs around Octavia’s face. Octavia doubted the move was deliberate, and that was ideal. She moaned herself, and pulled her hand down to the crook of Celestia’s womanhood.
He chin effectively blocked Celestia’s hot pussy, but she didn’t care. Octavia bit Celestia’s throbbing clit and dipped a single finger deep into her anus.
Celestia screamed louder than Octavia had ever heard, and rewarded her partner’s pretty face with a thick shower of love. Octavia screamed, too, smiling wide to catch as much as she could, backing off enough to get sprayed right. Her finger pumped her asshole more and more, but Celestia could only cum so much. Octavia relented to just slurping up the aftermath.
The sensitive nub of Octavia’s clitoris was no longer a nub but a growth, Luna could wrap her tongue around it and estimated unconsciously that it was nearly three inches long now, and thick. Every clitoris’s reaction to this trick varied tremendously, but it seemed Octavia was taking to the treatment like bamboo to miracle-grow. Her new faux cock was growing quickly, and not just in length. Octavia groaned out, her back bending over some, but Luna only sucked harder, failing to wrap her tongue around the whole thing anymore. The girthsome penis grew in length out of her skilled mouth an inch, then two, and soon Luna was straining her jaw and neck to keep any of it in her mouth.
Finally, Octavia released Celestia’s twat from her mouth’s custody and gasped, aromal saliva dripping down in thick, salty strands to the princess’s reddened lips. “Oh my-what the fuck is that?!” she shouted, stooping over and sucking in breath, breaking out in a sweat as well.
With a deliberate effort, Luna coughed off the thick organ and squirreled out of the human tangle. She swallowed hard and sat back, grinning, coughing, and exposing her wet cunt.
“Oh my goodness! You’re drenched! Wow… Do you like it, Octavia? Your new dick, I mean,” the royal ruler asked. “You’re gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous. Is she not, sister?”
Octavia turned her head to follow Luna’s eyes, smiling as she pulled her dripping bangs back and watched Celestia struggle to her side, her pussy still overflowing. “An-hah! Oh ay goh.”
“B-but-AH!” Octavia’s new sensitive flesh-pole was held captive in a loving, stroking, noble-blooded embrace.
Luna gripped the thick, thick base and pulled out to the tip, a very effective method she had developed. “Look at it,” she whispered into Octavia’s ear. “Look closely. It is not quite like a regular penis, no? No. It is so much better, Octavia…” she trailed off, kissing her earlobe and breathing into her ear, her body so close, her hands traveling to places that made Octavia smile. “Look at the thickness,” she commanded with her hot breath. “Look how it flares at the very end, just a little. Doesn’t it feel great, right there?!”
Luna emphasized herself with a harsh hiss and a sharp squeeze of the very tip, sending Octavia’s hips back in a reflexive dodge. Luna held her fast in her right hand, her left already gone back to the tight curves of Octavia’s ass. Her fingers dipped deep into the hot, wet, tight muscular ass of Octavia and found her backdoor, then intruded with one bold finger. Octavia thrusted forward, shrieking, only to penetrate the circle Luna made with her thumb and finger, sweat and residual saliva plenty of lubrication.
“AAH!!” Octavia cried out at the top of her lungs, her new cock twitching and her entire body spasming.
Luna held her subject with occupied arms and pressed her body close, biting Octavia’s earlobe, breathing shallow, excited breaths as her subject twitched and jerked for several seconds. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed, the fingers on her right hand finding the lips to Octavia’s wet pussy. “You are so hot…”
Octavia bit her lip, feeling a little more together. She hooked her arm under Luna’s, stroking her gorgeous midnight-blue hair and resting her head on hers. “What… what the fuck.” Octavia breathed deep and watched Luna gently stroke her new cock. It was so sensitive. The gentle motion Luna used, with the tiny pressure, made Octavia’s breath catch in her throat and her entire body quake. And yet, it was too good to stop, much less look away. The thick, long cock Octavia found exploding her nervous system was blotched in places. The base to a ring about three inches from her hips was a solid, deep olive color, like her skin but a dozen shades darker. The prominently veined skin beyond that extended in random patches of the same dark-tan and bright pink forever, what seemed like eight inches. Octavia moaned just thinking of possibly trying to take the skyscraper she was sporting. Even though it would hurt, she wanted to ride something just like it for hours.
“You want it, don’t you?” Luna breathed. “Look at Celestia’s pussy, Octavia.” She did, and spasmed hard again. Luna tugged harder and faster, now. “You know how wet and hot she is. You just need to dive waist-deep in, do you not?”
“Y-yes… no? Which answer lets me fuck her?” Octavia’s breath caught in her throat as her body flinched, but Luna did nothing but gently push down on her rigidity, aiming the flared tip down at her princess’s cunt.
With a little lick of her earlobe, Luna breathed: “You love my hand, now imagine diving all the way in and filling that pussy you just fingered. Don’t cum inside, you’re too precious.”
Suddenly, far too fast for Octavia to process, Luna thrusted both of her milk-toned hands forward, burying her intruding finger to the last knuckle and injecting Octavia’s thick member all the way into Celestia’s pink diamond.
A wailing duet drowned out a sinister little giggle. Octavia fell forward onto her pillared arms, her asshole spasming, her thick cock throbbing hard, hilted deep inside Princess Celestia’s tight, hot pussy. Luna rocked her, just one finger deep inside, and the twitching musician dropped again, her perfectly pointy nipples meeting her princess’s, Celestia’s considerably bigger breasts compressing and dampening her subject’s impact.
“Oh my fuckng goddess…” Octavia breathed into Celestia’s ear, her hands moving to the wide hips instantly. She breathed heavy, heavier than when she was full sprint, trying to escape death, heavier than her first awkward kiss, heavier than she ever had breathed before.
And then, Luna pulled her finger out, and with it, Octavia’s cock slipped out. Immediately, Luna shoved two back in, pushing Octavia forward and making the bulging, sensitive underside of her thick, blotched, flared, weird cock slide along Celestia’s drenched pussy lips, the clit especially. The entire tennis can was pinned between their bodies, stroked by her movements. Octavia breathed heavily, deep and quick, and felt her entire body go rigid, then melt instantly, tense up, then turn into jelly in undulating waves from her pubis, up her spine, through her shoulders, and it made her throw her head back. She screamed in ecstasy as she came.
Unlike any other spine-tingling, toe-curling, scream-in-a-pillow good orgasm she had had before, Octavia was a complete slave to the pleasure. Her new dick spurted like a super soaker, but the recoil the ensign felt up and down her core was like a shotgun blast, and she could feel her thick erection throb hard with each shot, like a pump-action cocking. She screamed, her fingernails unwittingly digging into Celestia’s soft skin. For the shortest eternity, Octavia’s mind was static, yet clear, precisely blown away, her pleasure sensors were overloaded and more.
When she could, she tried to speak, sweat pouring down her face and body in thick beads. Octavia kept sucking air, slowly becoming aware of both princesses: one was drenched, the other was beside herself with laughter. Octavia was too drained to be resentful.
Celestia, and the bed around her, was soaked in sperm. Thick white lines with many dripping pools rose and fell with the princess’s chest. Octavia released her death grip on Celestia’s thighs with a little apology, and they both relaxed, smiling. Since they began, this was the second real orgasm between the three, and what a climax. The junior woman looked to her new penis and found with a visual inspection, followed quickly by a physical one, that her coke-can thick penis was wet, sticky, and still completely hard.
Luna took the gag out of her sisters mouth. “This hardly seems necessary, now does it, girls?”
Obviously the most together and under pleasured of the three, Luna licked away the cummy-spitty mixture from the soft rubber around a steel core and clicked the kinky toy out of existence. Luna sat up on crossed legs and simply waited, watching with intent. “You two could use a second to catch your breath. Just relax, and we will continue. I cannot wait for our next round of fun.”
Octavia, suddenly aware of how drained she now was, laughed a little sigh and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
She dropped again to her cum-covered princess and fuck-buddy. Octavia felt more strength with the closeness, uneasily smiling as she felt the sticky-sliminess of her ejaculate clinging to her own stomach and breasts. Still, she really liked feeling the hot, sticky stuff. For most of her life, penises had repulsed her in every way.
Celestia and Octavia swapped little kisses, licking up some of the semen and sampling it. The bitter taste turned Octavia off, at first, but the sexy situation made it a bit of an acquired taste. It wasn’t just bitter; her cum was sort of sour, salty, sweet, even. It was very unique, and Octavia knew the flavor would never be forgotten. She found herself kissing and licking and slurping all the way down to Celestia’s drenched chest. Once she had a thick mouthful of cum, Octavia ventured back to her partner’s mouth, sharing her salty, sticky, hot, pungent treat. The entire time, of course, her hungry hands were groping the slick-sticky, perky, full breasts, her hips grinding back and forth, slipping her cock around.
Luna remained a bystander for the moment, Octavia noticed, playing with her own strangely-shaped penis. She wondered when Luna had pulled that thing into this realm, but did not dwell on the matter. Octavia smiled wider as she swallowed Celestia’s hot breath. Her own dick remained rock hard, and she was ready for whatever mind-blowing fun Luna had in mind.
“Mmmm…” Octavia moaned out as her tight ass was groped. She watched Luna’s other hand closely as it stroked her penis, the tip sporting a thick white bead of what could only be precum. The sperm in her mouth presently was flooded with fresh saliva.
The ensign swallowed hard and stood on her knees, just like her unbound princess. “Luna…” was all she could think to say. She desired to beg for a taste of her dick, to please her, to do everything and anything, and of course another round inside of… well, either princess would be outstanding.
Her free ass said that and more. Luna slapped her, hard, then again even harder. Octavia clenched her teeth and felt her flesh jiggle after a third, vicious slap. Luna pushed her down onto all fours and stroked herself slowly.
“What now, miss Octavia?” Luna asked out loud. “You two make such a cute, kinky couple. I don’t think you should ever wish to have another tight little pussy to fuck.” With a click, Octavia felt a little pinch in her wrists and ankles.
She tried to pull her hands up to look, but instead pulled her chest down. Octavia found her wrists were shackled to a silver chain that ran under Celestia’s torso, constraining her under her princess. The ensign stood on her hands and knees to look back and found her ankles bound to a bar, spread wider than before. What was more surprising was Celestia’s feet were also tied, but much more tightly behind Octavia’s ass. This way, even if she wished to get up, Octavia was affixed to her princess.
A rude finger caught Octavia off guard, drawing a little shriek of surprise. “Like it?” Luna asked evilly. “I thought you would. Who wouldn’t love to be waist deep in Celestia, constantly? I know I would.” Luna slapped her subject right on the right cheek, which was starting to seriously sting, and slapped once more. “Go on, my little pony. Ride, ride! Hahaha!” Luna slapped her again, right in the same redding spot, and reached around for a handful of thick dick. “Ride my sister bareback like a fucking horse, Octavia. Feel her wet, raw cunt like most of Equestria dreams of doing. You could not believe the number of perverts who want a slice of her. Give her the thick, hot, hard dicking she deserves!”
Octavia began to scream as she was hit again, but her voice caught in her throat when she was guided to Celestia’s wet fuck-hole. She dipped her hips on her own, diving deep right away to the thick ring near the base.
Where Celestia's wetness caused Octavia's scream to catch in her throat, Octavia's relatively dry cock forced a deafening shriek out her own. It hurt, the thick, long penis was too dry, too hard, and way too fast. She could, and had, taken it and more, but not dry. She bit the blankets and groaned as Octavia's rock hard cock throbbed inside. Celestia could feel every inch pulse. It was so forceful.
Octavia's knees spread, sinking herself deeper, and squeezing an intruding finger from her other princess. Just the tip was in her anus, Luna's first finger, nearly deep enough that the rim covered Luna's nail. The ensign dropped her shoulders and heaved up, pulling out some, and flexed her abdomen. This sunk the few inches remaining all the way in, more gently bathing her huge erection with Celestia's juice.
"Goaah," the penetrated woman groaned, spitting the cloth out. Octavia gently rocked her whole body back and forth, back and forth, diving her long member slowly in and out, in and out, in and out again. They were both blissfully unaware of the third wheel, silently holding the new hot topic for their pleasure.
Princess Luna held fast, twitching and pushing her finger carefully into Octavia. They, Octavia and the older sister, humped with long, slow strokes, so forcing two fingers in was easy with a little lubrication. Three was tough, especially so without distracting Octavia too much.
Three, however, was good enough for now. Swiftly, Luna grabbed up Octavia by the neck with her free hand, standing her up tall on her knees. Luna took her own penis and forced herself up into the mind-numbingly tight, hot asshole she had been warming up.
As expected, Octavia was too shocked, too surprised by the twistedly nice intense pain to do much but tense up. The royal sister used the opportunity to click a nice, juicy tendril into her subject's mouth. The slimy bell-shaped head just barely laid inside Octavia's soft, full lips and spurted a thick strand of white goop onto her tongue.
The suddenness and magnitude of the sensation proved too much, but Luna enjoyed the cry of pain anyway. She enjoyed the deep moan afterwards even more. Luna massaged Octavia's throat and young, perky breasts as the ensign made love to the dark cock-snake in her mouth.
"Keep humping," she whispered, and clicked two more midnight blue tentacles into existence. One enwrapped her own leg. The throbbing, hot wetness gracing her thighs snaked between them in a figure eight before finding her brown eye. Luna bit Octavia's beautiful black hair and felt the warmth on her lower body grow and move and massage not just her hole, but her long, slender as well.
The second phallic being crept to Celestia's neck, lightly encircled it, and traveled up to her lips. Celestia barred her teeth. The tentacle reared back, giving the princess a close-up view. The very tip resembled a human's glans, but the semblance ended there. The flare was excessive, yet smoothed to the rest of the slithering girth, much like a bullet's shape. While she found herself admiring the nicely shaped, ribbed, bulbous, bumpy, thick, sleek, shiny, slimy, smooth creature, she beheld a viscous drop forming. Octavia resumed her long thrusts, pulling back until her odd cock nearly sprang out, but she pushed back in so hard, Celestia felt the creature's roundness roll under her neck. When she snapped her head back up to look at the lovely thing again and find out what that liquid was, her mouth was filled with the semi-hard meat. When it squirted her throat with it's hot, thick sauce, she gagged, spitting out a cone of white cum-spit spray. The thick strands landed across her chin and tits, but mostly on her new friend. Celestia opened wide, humming an apology. She smiled as the wet tentacle, wide and hot and delicious, danced with her tongue.
Celestia's muscular, thick thighs and shaped calves, pinned as they were, had strength plenty to stir the sheets about Octavia's and Luna's tangled legs. Just as unconsciously, the older sister reached for the dick-creature with her weak hand. She gripped the slimy, hot, odorous dick-creature where it was throbbing against her pursed, thick lips. Celestia wrapped her fingers around and gripped first with her tips, lifting and moving her head and using her limited concentration on tongue-massaging the flared, slick head.
Moaning, her left wrist slowly flicked her hand up and down the length as her other hand found its way down the hot skin of her stomach to a forgotten self-service pleasure center. Octavia's thick cock had resumed it's rougher rhythm, thank herself, but Celestia's cup overflowed. She groaned into her new friend, indulging her hardened, wetted, inflamed clitoris vigorously.
Unbeknownst to the impaled princess, the tendrils were dogs, each with its own master. The being inside her mouth heard a command, understood, and complied. As its princess moan's crescendoed, it spurt three long, thick ropes of flavorful, fragrant cum. Celestia was stuck between swallowing on impulse and spitting on reflex, and gagged instead.
She struggled up and violently splattered herself and Octavia's midriffs with a cum-spit mix. When Luna lazily moaned an inquiry, Celestia hummed a reply, and flopped back down, eager to suck and stroke her plaything more.
When she turned her head forward, her slimy friend slithered up and around. The mass wrapped around her messy breasts. The thick length less than gently squeezed her left breast. Luna's eyes fell upon her sisters. Her sexy bright teal pools hid behind Octavia's hair, like a tigress in the jungle grass. Octavia may be their shared companion, but Celestia knew that more than some warm, wet dick-flesh and a pair of handcuffs was in store for tonight.
Tonight was not the night Octavia lost her oral virginity, if one can claim to have a sanctity to their mouth. Not a year prior, before she had earned her commission into the Equestrian Royal Navy as an officer, and prior to earned her music degree, Octavia loved one cock and one cock only. As she moaned around the warm member in her mouth, she was flooded with memory more than hot sperm.
His name was Slavik, and he was perfect in every way. Caring, strong, tall and handsome and hung, talented, a polymath genius virtuoso, mysterious, foreign, and exotic. She had been with the world-renown DJ-PON3 for several months, and Vinyl Scratch was too high on her pedestal to be bothered with her girlfriend's physical and emotional needs and aspirations.
Slavik and Vinyl’s faces and other parts were washed away by a crashing wave of pleasure. Octavia gagged on the spermy snake in her mouth as another beast teased her womanhood with it’s thick head.
“Remain focussed, ensign,” Luna moaned into her ear. “We do not want Our princess to become disinterested.” Whom she was referring to, Octavia could not deduce. Luna gripped her hips and drove her point home, causing Octavia’s body to recoil, the meat in her mouth making her gag so hard, she felt a little sick. The nausea faded fast as her other hole was filled gently. Her pussy was purring around the softer, thicker tentacle intruder as Luna drilled her ass, and that was the best. It seemed to fit her perfectly, spreading her cunt just the right amount. The sex-creature stung her g-spot, a sharp little pain sensation ran up from her strangely textured pleasure center, then exploded into a hot, pulsing sensation like nothing else. And when it began thrusting, Octavia couldn’t help but tense up and scream. Luna broke her stupor a second later by pulling her hair, yanking Octavia from the brink of something big.
With great effort, she breathed deep through her nose, sucked on the slimy creature in her mouth and moved her hips with Luna’s. Celestia screamed softly with bliss through the demon in her mouth.
Octavia’s tight little asshole felt amazing. The burning hot ring squeezed her intentionally modest dick tighter than she had expected. For such a sexy girl nearing six feet in height, Octavia’s body must surely be undersexed. Perhaps, Luna unfortunately realized, that she and her sister may be overusing their sex drives as of late. She bit down on a mouthful of luscious black hair and thrusted a little harder, especially wary of her subject’s body, the way she communicated its limits. As the princess of the night, Luna was familiar with Octavia’s deepest desires and fantasies by way of her more perverted dreams. Now was the time not only to realize them, but to test them. The question she set out to answer was if Octavia could handle herself.
Octavia had found heaven. Her holes and hands were full of the hottest, slipperiest phallics, and her sensitive tits were being molested magnificently. The way Luna pinched her nipples just right, not too hard but not lightly. The cock in her ass wasn’t disgustingly huge, and she wasn’t fucking too violently, either. But it wasn’t soft, no. And her dick, her own dick felt so good, looked so good, every vein and bulging fluid-filled inch filled up the sexiest woman ever so completely. And the throbbing, the painfully intense throbbing in her pussy was the best feeling she had ever experienced. And with every squeak that was forced out of her mouth, Octavia’s cunt and throat were both given a small cum injection. Perhaps it wasn’t quite cum, the miniscule sector of her brain dedicated to logical thought hypothesised. The little idea came and went in the time of one revolving series of thrusts.
The cyclic motions rocked her whole body, yards of cockflesh pushing into and out of hers and Celestia’s fuck holes. First, Octavia’s own thick member would dive all the way into Celestia’s tight, wet pussy, the feeling alone was superb, much better than just rubbing her clit, even with a vibrator. Next, Luna would pull on her hips, or her breasts, shoving her nice dick fully in. Luna’s shapely hips and Octavia’s tight ass smacked mashed together, pushing her odd cock into the older princess harder. What followed was possibly her favorite: the trio of pulling out, Luna’s dick slipping out of her squeezing anus, and the immaculate sensation of a perfectly thick, hot cock intruding it’s way inside her pussy, Octavia’s g-spot burning with fiery pleasure at every inch that slipped over it. That bit made her spine tingle, shoulders shudder, hips quake and knees weak, supplemented by her dick being squeezed out of Celestia’s tight slimy pussy. And subsequently, Octavia would make an attempt at slipping her tongue around the warm penis inside her drooling mouth.Thank Celestia, lastly the entire simply complex series of reciprocation repeated over, and over, and over again.
For a while this went on, every woman moaning and groaning and sometimes spasming a little or doubling over or spreading her legs, feeling their groin muscles stretch just to feel them. At the sex epicenter, Octavia felt overloaded, unable to do much of anything at all. This of course was fine, more than fine, as Luna could easily dominate in the arrangement. She took Octavia’s slippery tits in both hands and squeezed them together, pulling herself close to her subordinate and subject. Her core was tight and her whole body had a sheen of sweat not quite as thorough as Octavia’s, and her lungs burned. That didn’t matter. She sucked air through her mouth and rammed her cock as hard and fast as she could, grunting, foregoing any restraint. Octavia needed this as bad as she did, likely worse. Her hypersensitive penis must be painfully hard now. Luna felt a stirring sensation she knew well enough, and thrusted more strongly anyway.
Though she had felt it once before, Octavia still didn’t comprehend her imminent release until it was upon her. She pulled the tendril from her mouth, her grip slipping off of it the instant it left her mouth, trailing many thick strands of a white semen-spit mix. Octavia doubled over, her lungs full, but unresponsive, her mouth agape. She shuddered and stared at her dick buried fully inside Celestia, even making a visible bulge. At the sight, Octavia gasped, or tried, and could nearly see Celestia’s pussy walls stretched around herself. Luna’s dick was fucking her hard, now, causing her bent body to recoil back and forth. She felt the head push into her tight hole again and again and again, and she could visualize the way she took Luna in perfectly. Octavia opened her eyes, realizing absently now they were shut, and felt the lower half of her torso turn into butterflies. She tensed up, her asshole spasmed. Octavia’s cock finally flexed inside Celestia, and she felt the warmth come out on the fourth time. She came extremely hard, her penis pumping what felt must be a hot gallon of thick cum.
When she was herself again, Octavia collapsed, looking behind herself, breathing hard into Celestia’s ear, their breasts mismatching and squishing into each other. Luna remained inside, but Octavia couldn’t see much of her. The slimy creature in her pussy sensed she was spent and remained still inside her.
The tentacle she had evicted, or another, she couldn’t care to be sure, wrapped itself around her hanging breasts much like another had custody of Celestia’s. It slipped around, squeezing her breasts, and she was content with that. Octavia clenched her teeth and used all her strength to lift her hips, pulling her huge, slightly flaccid dick out of her princess. Luna pulled her hair, then her breasts, forcing her to stand tall on her knees, breathing hard.
“Look at that, Octavia,” princess Luna whispered into her ear, the hot, heavy breath gracing her warm skin. “Look at your huge cock, covered in her juice, and your cum. Look at how much is leaking out.” Octavia obeyed and saw, softly gasping. “Would you like to taste it, or would you rather just lay down? I imagine you are very tired.” The cock returned, gently and deeply penetrated her pussy spurted once. Octavia felt the hotness of the semen again, and then the cold of the tentacle leaving her wet embrace.
Octavia gulped, her drying throat passing a lot of air as she panted, still. Luna rubbed her still hot, hard dick on the small of Octavia’s back, as if pleading her. “N-no…” she rasped. “I mean, yes. I want- I want to rest, Luna-”
She was cut off by a soft, yet firmhand on her throat. “Princess,” she whispered.
“Princess Luna,” she breathed, feeling the pressure right on her neck. Octavia was released, and she opted to fall to her spread princess’s side. She rolled over and pulled the foreign body from Celestia’s mouth and replaced it with her tongue, the same slimy hand slipping down to her creamed cunt. Octavia pushed two fingers in deep, then pulled out. She sampled her sperm, even savored it, before sharing with Celestia. Her own cum was more bitter than the snake’s. When she attempted to put her fingers in again, Octavia found a hardness instead.
She didn’t move from Celestia’s lips, but resigned her fingers to Luna’s cock. Celestia sucked harder on Octavia’s tongue when her pussy was filled again, this time with Luna’s penis. Octavia rubbed her big, hard clit lazily while Luna fucked her intensely. Ever eager to please, Octavia grew a smile as she sped up to keep pace with Luna, much to Celestia’s delight.
Celestia gasped and pushed her subject’s face back. “Octavia,” she said, her voice wavering as her body shook back and forth, more so as a result of vigorous stroking than Luna’s thrusting. “Let me… ah… Let me clean your… big, big dick, please. Flip arou-oh Lun-ah, right there! Right on my g-spot…”
With a big grin, Octavia sucked her finger clean and turned in place, laying on her side so Celestia could get a mouthful. She had to contort herself some, but Octavia could even lick and nibble on Celestia’s clit, burying her nose in the creamy entrance Luna occupied. She hooked her hands around, kneeling above Celestia’s sucking lips and touched a finger to Celestia’s lubricated anus. A tentacle agreed, and joined in by gently prodding the back door, getting Celestia’s secret nice and wet. Octavia forced in a fingertip, then more, feeling her half-hard mast stiffening already.
Octavia couldn’t remain on her elbows for long, however, and had to resign her position of sexual power. She laid on her side once more, her stiff, aching cock receiving a thorough tongue bath.
Octavia was not surprised to witness her finger replaced first with the lucky dick-creature, then Luna’s own. There, the sisters both orgasmed, and both fell victim to a sticky lethargy. As they caught their breath, Luna laying on the opposite side of her sister and idly massaging her much larger breaths, Octavia accepted a stray into her mouth. It was her vagina’s servant, or someone’s, the taste made that obvious enough. The thick, delicious cock in her mouth was gentle enough to resume her sex-sated mind on its field trip to the past.
Long before Slavik and the rest of her joke of a band melted Ponyville faces, Octavia met Vinyl Scratch before she was DJ P0N-3. Together, they were the manifestation of the old adage “opposites attract”. As cute and genuine and fulfilling as it was, Octavia and Vinyl Scratch were two sides of the same coin. In a matter of weeks, things became very serious.
Disowned by her parents for being a lesbian and other deviocities, Octavia gladly went on the road with the future famous DJ, especially after her wealthy mother cut her off. Every night, however, wasn't the nuzzling, squirting fun intimacy of their college pussy-love. Between pills and herbs and groupies and other artists, Octavia found herself neglected like a middle child. So, she had set her foot down.
Ponyville was small, but a growing town. There DJ-P0N3 ended the tour, so there they chilled for roughly four months. Still unwanted, the bassist decided she was tired of being bored and basically alone.
When they first met at the better of two music stores in town, Octavia and Slavik were geniuses before their times and instant comrades. They banded together and created an over-talented garage band. It was far from Canterlot's Symposium for the Gifted, but Slavik's veritable tool shed was like a home, something Vinyl’s tour bus would never be.
A few months passed, and a band oversaturated with talent was forged. Slavik the drummer was also holding down an engineering job at the Ponyville Hydro plant. Herself on the bass and vocals, the foundation was set. The other three members were a dedicated pair of fire-fingered guitarists fresh from high school, and a rather gifted, yet drug-addled, detriment to society as the lead vocalist. Unfotrunately, this lovely individual was the face of the band in it’s early years, drawing most of the crowd from her internet “friends”. It was her who drew their first crowds, so Octavia begrudgingly agreed to keep her around.
They found moderate success in the little town. After a few months, over a dozen extremely complicated tracks were written, even including a few covers of bands that were the cornerstones of metal. It was a magical time in the woman’s young life: self-fulfilment, success born of hard work, and no prissy auditions, bureaucracy, suits and tight dresses, dealing with geezers in tuxedos, or worst of all, her parents. Octavia hated her parents more than her neglecting girlfriend. Between using her talents for “evil music” every day, and making love to her “harlot” every so often, Octavia was finding new ways to rise above every day. She never did tell her that she got a commission to become an officer in the Equestrian Royal Navy. Octavia was sure her mom would need another perscription after that, though.
And then Luna, or Nightmare Moon, returned. Octavia, busy at the second-most crowded venue in Ponyville that night, was completely oblivious. While the majority of Ponyville panicked, some stayed at Sugarcube Corner and enjoyed another local show by Octavia’s own band. It was a huge turnout for them, despite the world-ending danger happening less than a dozen blocks away. Blissfully unaware, Octavia and her group performed their best, better than ever before, minus the dead weight of the alcoholic vocalist, who had feld when she learned of Slavik and Octavia’s blooming relationship.
High on adrenaline and more, Octavia and Slavik fled to his little place. What followed was natural, yet magical. Octavia had not technically had sex with a man, not completely, yet if felt as natural as breathing. His member, sizeable compared to what she had researched, filled her tight womanhood like no other. It was like he was sculpted for her, but perfection came at a price.
When she gained a lover, Octavia lost the first true friend she had ever known. Vinyl Scratch found out by the morning, and a day of joyous celebration for Equestria would mark the single saddest day of Octavia’s young life.
Living, writing, and performing with Slavik and her band was literally a dream come true. But doing it came at the cost of her best friend, her first lover, the most annoying, stupid, loud, obnoxious, selfish bitch that she couldn’t stop thinking about. Without even a shred of hesitation, however, her band, especially Slavik, agreed to help her write a song about it. What better way to get over loss was there than screaming as loud as possible into a microphone?
The future looked brighter by the day, yet Octavia’s perverted mind had an especially dark corner. Scratch dominated her thoughts for an entire month. Every day, however, time just barely began to fade her pain, and Slavik was always there to hold her at night, kissing, whispering in his accent, touching her where Vinyl used to. For the first week or so, Octavia couldn’t let his delicious erection anywhere near her. But time heals all wounds, and adrenaline and vodka mixed into a perfect brew.
The following months saw again nothing but improvement. Before Octavia knew it, four months and two EP’s had come and gone. Their band was a hit among the complexity-seeking thrashers, and Magic Blast records finally recognized the potential.
Fallen is Babylawn’s big break seemed just around the corner. However, before Octavia could even propose a name change, everything came to a screeching halt. No one, least of all Octavia, could have ever expected it.
In Luna’s magical bedroom control center sex pad, Octavia’s sleep-drunk mind swirled with grieving memory while her cheeks were painted with a warm white wash. What pulled her up from her vivid recollection was not the spurting tentacle in her mouth, nor the hot, sticky taste of snake-dick creature cum, but a rude intrusion into her rear exit.
“Gah-hmmf-” she tried to exclaim, another sudden surge of sperm clogging her windpipe. Octavia turned her head and coughed.
Luna reached over and got a handful of her subjects recuperated cock. “Breath, Octavia. Do not fall asleep, either, young one. We have one more trial for you before you return to your own bed.”
So, Octavia recalled, she was dreaming. This was just a vivid dream, then? With a dream inside, and crazy fantasy porn that felt real?
“Yes… Princess.” Octavia smiled wide, feeling drunk. She moaned and closed her eyes, feeling a hot, slimy tentacle rub her delicate asshole. Turning her hips, she pinched her sensitive nipples and held in a huge breath. She twisted them and screamed, Luna’s grip tightening violently and the tentacle penetrating past the bulbous tip.
As if some gnarly black navy coffee found its way into her, Octavia woke right up. She took her former dominator and tackled her down, laughing with her ruler. Octavia kissed Luna’s creamy cunt deeply, moaning as she tasted the alien cum. Why was it so delicious?
Octavia genuinely enjoyed Luna’s hardening, dewey dick, and her spermed pussy even more. But she nonetheless moved on to Celestia’s vagina, sucking all the cum out and eating it right away. Now, Octavia’s member was as hard as steel again, and she stroked idly while Celestia sat on her face.
Luna took her position sitting on Octavia’s midriff, pinning her throbbing hard cock between Octavia’s stomach and her own royal twat. Octavia spat in surprise into Celestia’s labia when her huge cock popped into Luna’s tight, wet cunt. That wasn’t all. Luna slid down, all the way, screaming bloody murder as her insides made room. She was much smaller and tighter than Celestia, painfully so. She was wet, though, and Octavia harmonized right along, muffled by Her Majesty’s muff.
“We can’t!” Octavia heard from beyond Celestia’s spermy pussy. She sucked on the clit again and thrusted her hips. “AH! It is too big! Stop!”
“Just get off,” Celestia shouted right back. “Go ahead, Luna! Deny her! Deny Octavia, whom you tortured tonight, punish her again for being a wonderful, talented, devout servant! She only wanted to serve, and this is the thank you you give her? Teasing her with your pretty little pussy, only to back out?”
Octavia half-ignored Celestia and kept thrusting, Luna’s pained whimpers and Celestia’s metallic-tasting pussy glazing her concentration over. She felt Luna stand again, her tight pussy pulling with every ribbed, drenched inch.
“I cannot take it, Sister,” she heard. “I overestimated myself, it would seem. Octavia’s penis is too girthsome! LOOK! It resembles a can of mead more than a prick!”
“For one,” Celestia moaned, grinding her hips to Octavia’s delight. “Mead is long obsolete, and it never… ah, came in cans. You’re thinking of beer-ah, and s-ECOND, you asked for this, Luna! Take it! Don’t back out n-NOW!”
A hand gripped the base of her thick cock, but Octavia just wanted to bury her face deeper into Celestia’s pussy. It was so hot, wet, fragrant, delicious! She couldn’t get enough. The pucker of a tight asshole, however, directed her attention.
“FUCK! FUCK, FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!” Luna screamed out, her anus slipping painfully slowly over every single inch of Octavia’s thick, throbbing cock. The blue-haired princes screamed until her back door was filled, taking every veiny, throbbing, thick, ready-to-burst inch of cock up her tight, near-virgin ass. Octavia reached down from Celestia’s hips to Luna’s and thrusted it in deeper, making Luna’s strained voice crack.
Whether Luna wanted it or not, Octavia started humping, the residual lube allowed her thick manhood to slip in and out of her princess’s back door.
She may have heard “That’s the spirit,” but Octavia couldn’t tell. She was much too busy burying her cock in Luna. Even after cumming so many times, or perhaps because of that, Octavia felt very close to orgasm already. So close, her tongue and lips refused to respond, so she arched her back and breathed hard. She knew she was going to cum, but she couldn’t say it. Octavia lurched upright and pulled her cocksock off, wincing, gritting her teeth, feeling a force clench up inside her groin that was so strong she was sure she would spurt.
But, Octavia did not. She fell back and breathed a hard breath, feeling her whole hot, tingly body cool from her sheen of sweat. Before Octavia could even inhale again, Celestia clicked the magic remote control, and a particularly slimy beast slithered its way up Octavia’s throbbing member, faster than lightning. As suddenly as the sharp sting of pleasure it brought had come on, the tentacle retreated. Confused beyond her other intense emotions, Celestia locked lips with her and took the thick base in her hand.
Octavia kissed back, groaning in agonizing pleasure. She wasn’t sure, but Octavia, in her shell-shocked state, thought her princess might have just cast a spell upon her cock.
Celestia pulled her head back, a mixture of both their saliva fell to Octavia’s large lips and soft tongue. “Don’t worry,” she mouthed, and began stroking with one hand. Celestia looked down and Octavia followed her pretty purple eyes.
The clenching feeling came back as soon as Octavia saw her dripping-wet dick, Celestia’s hands a blur as they massaged it. A numbness grew over the tip of her dribbling flare. Inch by inch, her penis felt like a cold fire was growing down to her hips. It spread, faster and faster, over her whole body, until she was shivering. Octavia whimpered, it felt so good it hurt. Celestia didn’t stop as she laid prone between Octavia’s legs. She lifted her foggy head and looked down, locking eyes again, remembering the sweltering heat and the thrill of her life hanging in the balance back in the desert. The dry heat contrasted harshly with the wet cold she felt, and it only grew.
“Celestia!” Octavia panted, her knees shakily slipping further and further apart, up the sheets. She began arching her back, but with no foothold, Octavia was just grinding her shoulders into the silken sheets. She moaned and whined and eventually began screaming, shouting. This was torture, but it felt so good, unbelievably good. She both wanted to end it, not even finish, just end the torment. But deep down in her unthinking mind, Octavia was in heaven.
Distantly, she heard a more somber Luna praise Celestia’s creativity. It was a distant creature under her deep sea of agonizing bliss. She was so deep into this experience, Octavia managed to look down at her cock and see the lube left over splattering around, and she could almost see the wide urethra spilling a steady drip of precum in the wild motion of Celestia’s frantic hands.
Just when she was sure she would either die or cum, Celestia slowed to a hellish crawl. She would squeeze and push hard, the soft, hot skin bulged around her fingers as she drew her hands to Octavia’s tip. The sensation of Celestia slipping over her strange ring near the base made Octavia’s entire shivering body jump. Her cold cock throbbed hard, but she only squirted a sexy spurt of thick, off-white precum. Celestia pushed her hands up, her knuckles tickling Octavia’s tingling belly, and came to the flare. If she would just fucking slip over it like the ring, maybe touch the end of the cylinder, Octavia was sure she would explode all over herself.
With a firm grip, Celestia drew up to the ribbed tip, drew one single dainty fingertip over the bulbous end and touched the slimy cum port, then pulled her hands back over Octavia’s throbbing erection. Octavia wailed in anguish as Celestia passed slowly down to her ring, knowing for certain she would finally cum.
The beaming princess reached the base and stuck her pinky into Octavia’s labia. “Oh, you don’t like edging, Octavia?” Celestia teased. “Luna loves it when I give her blue balls. When she has them, that is.”
“Stop it, sister!” Luna said, slapping Celestia on her ass. “Make Octavia finish, already. We can both see she’s in so much pain.”
“That’s the point, Luna,” Celestia said with a small laugh, earning a meaner smack.
Celestia moaned and slipped one hand lightly up and down. “Oooh, but what have I done wrong, Luna? I don’t know. I was just doing Octavia a favor.”
Luna bit her lip and slapped Celestia’s backside harder, and her sister brought both hands up and down Octavia’s thick cock one more time. “We should teach you then, isn’t that right, Octavia?”
She could only squeak out a sharp “Yes!”, a smack and a stroke causing her frail voice to crack.
Luna plucked up the clicker and with a flick of the wrist, summoned another wet, slithering creature. Celestia jumped, but sighed. She began slowly working Octavia’s massive member when it teased her asshole. Luna slipped two fingers into her sister’s creampie and watched Octavia’s dick throb and dribble over Celestia’s swiftening hands.
“Should I make her cum, Luna?” Celestia asked over her shoulder, stroking faster, sending painfully intense signals up and down Octavia’s spine.
Luna just shook her head. She stoked the tentacle some, getting her hand wet, then her own cock. “Go faster,” she grunted. “Don’t let her finish just yet.”
Celestia obeyed, to Octavia’s grateful disdain. She brought her lips within a hair’s breadth of Octavia’s pulsing tip and just breathed onto it, the warm breath on her frozen pipe the single most enjoyable sensation Octavia had ever felt. If only Celestia would kiss it, suck it, deepthroat, ride it, let her take her tight little asshole, Octavia wanted everything for one second. Just one second, and she would burst. One good touch and that was it.
Celestia did kiss it, but Octavia could not cum. She moaned, Celestia’s soft, thick, full dick sucking lips enwrapped around the tip, the vibrations ringing up and down her phallus, yet Octavia couldn’t cum. Celestia dipped in one finger into Octavia’s pussy, massaged her g-spot and swallowed her cock, Celestia’s throat bulging around the meat, but Octavia still couldn’t cum.
The princess lurched forward so hard from Luna’s sudden spasm that her nose poked Octavia’s stomach. She coughed and coughed off of it, the feeling of all of Celestia’s throat around her made the subject scream through clenched teeth. “GAH! LU-UNAAAaaah! YES!” Celestia shouted out, one eye closed as her sister penetrated her ass. Her hands pumped Octavia hard, her breath flowing over it like a tree standing defiant in a quick river.
Celestia’s body began rolling back and forth as her sister fucked her prone, exposed body. Octavia, still useless, screamed and begged. Every stroke felt worse and better than the last.
“Ungh! Haaahn! Ah! AAaaaaah!! Yes! Yes! YES! HHHFFYES! OH Luna! Yes! Oh oh… oh… oh! OH YES!” Celestia shouted out.
“DO IT!” Luna cried, her voice cracking. “Let her finish, sister! I want to see it!”
“N-nothing n-UEW!” Celestia’s hands slowed while her eyes rolled back for a moment. She took her left hand away, her right struggling to keep up a furious pace. She slipped in two fingers inside Octavia’s pussy, feeling her g-spot, and Octavia felt it as well.
“AH! OH my fucking GODDESS!” Octavia shrieked, her throat hoarse after sucking air in little, rapid breaths. Celestia pushed in a third finger, wedged in her fourth, and finally, after teasing, shoved her thumb into Octavia’s back door.
Celestia rocked her left hand around, her right stroking violently, and finally let the grand finale commence. She wrapped her lips around the base, her tongue lapping up all the gooey slime-lube on the extra sensitive, thick ring dear the bottom of Octavia’s shaft. A trio of cumshots fired off in miniature, thicker cum shooting nearly six inches up, only to land in lame lines on Celestia’s cheek and neck. Her hand, now working the cummy tip, squeezed extraordinarily hard and slipped hard off the flared end.
Octavia screamed so hard her throat closed up, trapping her joyous cry of agony. Celestia curled her fingers, compressing Octavia’s large, sensitive g-spot, her thumb driving in deep into her anus. Celestia felt the underside of Octavia’s dick work, her organic pump sending voluminous stripe after stripe of thick, thick cum high into the hot bedroom air. Octavia’s entire body length was painted with a dozen enormous ropes, a hefty majority of the sperm landing right on her sweaty chest. The hot, sticky cum warmed her cold skin deeply. Her face, not excluded from the lobbed volley, was splattered, giving Octavia a chance to taste it. Unsurprisingly, her cum tasted exactly like his. How she didn’t taste the resemblence earlier, the cellist did not know. Octavia smiled wide and breathed deeply, closing her eyes and remained spread.
Celestia was still taking Luna’s smaller dick up her asshole, but Octavia was barely interested. She mentally hugged Slavik, his face vivid in her mind’s eye. He was naked, sweating, just like her, and smiling wide, just like her. Octavia couldn’t move her body in Luna’s world, but in the waking daydream inside a dream she was having, Slavik’s cum was solidifying all over her body, not her own.
Slowly, his face turned blurry, like a reflection in a clear bond when a sudden gust comes along. Then, instead of beaming, Slavik was frowning, tense, anxious, and then he was just gone. No fade away, he simply disappeared. What happened? Octavia asked herself, or asked out loud, she could not tell. A blackness had replaced her best and almost only friend. What happened?
She felt colder without his warm, and hot, muscular body. What happened?
Octavia asked herself again and again, what happened? But no one and nothing had even the slightest hint. What happened? She felt cold, freezing, she could tell by a foreign touch that her nipples were erect. That wasn’t surprising, nor wholly unpleasant, but she was sexed out for now. Celestia and Luna had seen that much become reality.
Had she really just fucked the princesses? With a dick? Her dick? What the holy fuck, she thought. Octavia gathered herself and tried to roll over in her quiet bed. It was less firm than she recalled. Luna’s bed was soft, but supportive enough you could bounce on a cock like a fucking trampoline.
Octavia grinned, realizing she was cowling, and touched her breast. It was damp, but not coated with lines of thick spunk, like she thought. Maybe it just didn’t land there. She rubbed her sweat-coated skin all the way to her pussy and found her upper thighs a bit warmer than the rest of her chilly body, which was very nice. The little hood over her clit was soaked, and Octavia found the rest of her womanhood even more wet. She was too sleepy to take care of the relatively mild urge, however.
With a groan, Octavia tried to fish the covers back up to her hand with her foot, but connected her knee with a hard object instead.
“Owf!” the female owner of a kneed cheekbone quietly exclaimed. Octavia muttered an apology and rolled over once again.
She shifted her knees and became comfortable again. Realization came in little waves; why the bed was different, why she wasn’t coated with dried cum and other fluids, why she couldn’t hear Celestia getting railed by her sister, and finally the last tsunami, whom the woman’s voice belonged to all came back.
Octavia sat up and looked down. She was nude, no surprise, and her womanhood still tingled. The room was pitch black, all except one stip of grey moonlight, a sliver that trickled down from the modest hotel curtains to the side of the bed, where it climbed to the cliff and stopped. The scattered light was enough for her night eyes to make out the trace of the most familiar face.
“V-Vinyl…” she mouthed, and a shotgun blast of recollection hit her square in the chest. Octavia held her hands to her heart where an almost physical impact landed and tried to keep it from battering its way out of her chest. Instantly, she remembered who she was, as she had forgotten in her natural awaking amnesia. Her eyes instinctively found the L.E.D. to calculate how much time, if she fell asleep this instant, she could squeeze for sleep before she had to wake up. Three hours and forty minutes exactly, as it was 0220.
She turned her eyes back down to her ghostly girlfriend. Silence hung awkwardly for a few seconds, until Octavia had to breath again. Vinyl stood up on her hands and knees slowly, the shifting of the sheets and creaking bed breaking the thick silence.
“Um,” Vinyl spoke with her breath, her hollow voice sending shivers down Octavia’s spine. “Good morning, sweetie. I… didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Octavia sighed and smiled, grateful for just her girlfriend back, to feel alive in the real world again. “I had to pee anyway,” she replied, softening her smile as Vinyl noiselessly laughed. “What were you doing down there, anyway?”
Vinyl Scratch, also naked as the day she was born, looked away and sprang forward to the head of the bed with as much grace as a drunken goose. “Nothing, really,” she grunted as her bouncing body came to a rest, completely insincere. Octavia rolled over and pushed her lover’s shoulders to the sheets, finding Vinyl’s hand holding a strange cylindrical device.
“What-”
“G-spot vibe,” Vinyl interrupted. “I wanted to see how high I could go without waking you up. You made it to ‘bout halfway,” she said lightly. “I knew you were a light sleeper, though. Maybe I just gotta get you drunk firs-”
Octavia grasped Vinyl’s face in her hand, shutting her up. She had no words, no false playful threats, no teasing, she was spent. Her body was not. However, her womanhood needed release in more ways than one. “You’re lucky I have to go so bad, Vinyl,” she whispered into her girlfriend’s squished, smiling mouth.
She left at that, giving her girlfriend a nice view of her backside as she got up. Octavia received a healthy slap, reacted, smiled over her shoulder, and left to find the bathroom in the dark.
Octavia found the toilet in the pitch black and did her business, her pussy feeling hotter than ever. She needed the lights to wash up, however, and almsot hissed at the injection of light. Brighter than the sun, Octavia used the flash she saw before shutting her eyes to find the soap.
She cracked one eye open barely, shook her hands dry, and began to return to bed. She reached for the light, but a bag caught her little toe, bringing her down.
“F-shit!” Octavia hissed, falling to one knee. She grabbed her pinky toe and cursed the sack in the name of her goddesses. In cranky rage, Octavia kicked the bag with her good heel, causing an envelope, some makeup, a condom (of all things, why?) and receipts and other detritus to spill out.
“You okay, Tavi?” her girlfriend asked out quietly.
“Yes,” she groaned, her toes throbbing. “Just found your purse, is all. Really, you could put it on the chair or something, next time.”
She heard Vinyl murmur something disagreeable(“You’re the one who pounced on me the second you shut the door”) under the noise of her flipping over and adjusting the sheets.
Octavia, still sitting, plucked up the envelope. Vinyl Scratch remained in bed, her toy humming variably. Octavia listened closely, intrigued dually in her girlfriend’s vagina and the envelope she had in her hand. It spoke to her, as much as the vibrations, overcoming instantly her common respect of privacy.
Octavia wiped some sleep from her eyes and squinted out the return address. She was sure she was still reeling from her crazy dream, but after reading and rereading again, and again, and even more, his name was a flavor on her lips.
The name blurred again, but Octavia didn’t need to wipe away the water welling up in her eyes to be sure. She whispered to herself the name, “Slavik”.
