The Butt Fetish Collection (Of Butts)

Her shoulders tightly flexed and her lips curled in a slight grimace, Celestia, the immortal Princess of Equestria, strains under the force of her magical power as she lowers the sun past the distant gray of the mountain horizon. And as always, you stand at her side, your arms already tiring from a long day of holding your clipboard.

The two of you wait and watch from the open balcony as the moon rises into the sky. It was another perfect performance, and yet, for some reason, the princess' expression is strangely uneasy.

“Something to note, Majesty?”

She gives just a tiny start and quickly puts on a smile. “Oh, it's nothing, scribe,” she replies with her regal mien once more in place as she turns to the throne room. “I'd say that was a rather successful sunset. Wouldn't you agree?”

You scratch down the appropriate records and quickly follow. “Definitely, Majesty.”

As you enter, your long steps carrying you carelessly past the little pony guards on either side of the alcove, you can't help but notice that strange uneasiness once again evident upon her face.

“Princess! Another gorgeous evening!”

At the center of the grand hall stands an elderly stallion, grinning ear to ear. His heavy robe trailing along the red carpet, he's the very picture of self-satisfied Canterlot nobility. “I do hate to bother you so soon after your evening ritual, but I'm afraid that politics waits for nopony. As you know, the Solstice Summit is nearly upon us; I was hoping to have a word with you regarding the –”

“Forgive me, Minister, but I'm afraid that I simply don't have time for any more business today. I'm sure that there will be ample opportunity for this discussion in the morning.”

Her hoofsteps pat upon the floor as she quickly passes the sputtering old pony.

“But, Princess, I must insist!” he roughly responds as he trots to her side. “This is a very serious matter! Why, this sort of capricious behavior –”

“Is completely within my rights, Minister!”

He tumbles to the ground as she turns upon him with an angry stare. The room falls silent, and each person, whether human or pony, gazes anxiously at Celestia, her eyes flashing and her mane whipping furiously in the sudden wind. “You will trouble me no further this night, do I make myself clear?”

The quivering stallion struggles to reply. “Y-yes, Highness!”

With marked brusqueness, she turns and starts once more toward the entryway, leaving the heart of every witness pounding as you rush to follow.

Whatever thoughts you may have about the Princess' uncharacteristic bout of temper, you keep them to yourself as the two of you make your way through the halls of the palace. Her golden shoes tinkle cold echoes down the marble walkways as you continue on, past the ancient tapestries and the darkened windows of stained glass, to finally arrive at the doorway of Celestia's bedroom. There, you follow her through the heavy doors, the guards, of course, taking no interest in the presence of the Princess' personal scribe.

When the door is safely shut behind you, the princess quietly releases a tired sigh and allows her head to fall upon your chest.

“Celestia? What's the matter? You've seemed troubled this evening.”

She lifts herself up and touches her gentle lips to your cheek. “It's nothing, sweetie. Just a bit of a tummyache is all.”

You watch as she gingerly moves toward her bed and steps one by one out of her shoes. “Should I fetch a doctor?” you ask.

“Oh, no. I'm quite fine, really, it's just –” Her teeth suddenly clench in obvious discomfort as she lifts her crown and regalia over her the luminous waves of her mane. “Just something from the evening meal that's disagreed with me.”

As she steps to the side of her bed, you lay aside your documents and slowly run your fingertips through the majestic locks of her mane. “Is there anything I can do?”

With a quick shake of her head, she pulls away. “I think I'd actually like to take an early night, tonight. I hope you … understand.”

“But I –”

“Please!” she tersely interrupts, “I merely need a good night's rest. Now if you would just –”

Her hind leg still lifted to step into her bed, a sudden heavy bass note sounds out from her backside, ripping for just a moment through the silence of the room. Slowly, the unbelievable fact dawns on you that, Celestia, the immortal alicorn princess of the sun … had just broken wind.

With a sorrowful groan, she buries her face in the fabric of her bedspread. For quite some time, the only sound to be heard is the soft noise of the city far below carried upward on the evening breeze.

Finally, the muffled voice of the princess quietly rises through the sheets. “Please excuse me,” she mutters. “I'm sorry you had to … hear that.”

“Celestia, is this what's been bothering you? You just have a bit of –”

“Yes!” She turns to you, still slumping heavily upon her bed, her cheeks blazing in shame. “Now go! Can't you see how embarrassing this is?”

It's quite unlike you to disobey the princess' wishes, but for once, you choose to ignore her command. Instead, you kneel down, and you place a gentle hand upon her back. “Tia, you know there's nothing to be embarrassed about; it's a perfectly natural thing. And besides ….”

Your fingertips begin to drift over her silky coat, along her wing and down the delicate flesh at the side of her belly. “Am I not already fairly familiar with … how your body works?”

She draws back just a bit from the touch of your hand. “This is different. Natural or not, it's just so … undignified.” In spite of her distress, you can hardly restrain a chuckle. Whether she realizes it or not, her lips have curled into a distinct pout, and her voice carries all the authority of a petulant child.

You lift your hand to her cheek. “Let me help you, princess. I only want to make you comfortable. Please?”

Perhaps she knows that your mind is made up, or perhaps the ache in her belly has simply worn away her remaining patience. Whatever the case, she quietly relents, even as she hides her face in your chest. “Oh … alright.”

A smile of satisfaction on your face, you fall back upon the bed and pat the space at your side. The princess follows soon after, sinking into the plush satin of the bedcovers, shifting and shuffling along on her back until she finally lies next to you.

“There.” You gently draw your hand along her belly. “Just relax and let it out. It is nothing but air, after all.”

Celestia can't even meet your eye. Her sullen face turned away, she quietly huffs and flicks her tail back and forth beneath her upstretched legs. Suddenly, you feel her stomach rumble and tense as a quick squeak escapes her rear.

Her chest rises and falls under your touch as you lay long, restful strokes along the fuzz of her skin.

“I feel absolutely ridiculous,” she grumbles.

“Now, don't be like that.” You lean in, your lips brushing her ear as you whisper. “I'll be honest, Tia, I actually find it rather … let's say, romantic.” Your fingertips drift downward over the slight bulge of her belly, and they settle low, gently tickling the space between the almost imperceptible nubs of her teats.

“Romantic?” Her nose scrunches, and she lifts a delicate eyebrow. “Well, I can't say I understand why. But … well, I suppose ….”

Her disheveled mane hangs in strands of blue and green over her face, and her cheeks are a masterpiece of pink. She smirks and clutches her lip in her teeth, her expression mischievous and tinged with just a bit of uncertainty. The musical report of her fart rings out from below as she stares into your eyes. You listen happily to the alluring sounds of her body, and you give her a peck on her mouth and lay your head against her neck.

The two of you lie there in the peaceful light of her bedroom, her forelegs holding you close and your fingers drawing lines and tiny circles on the warm surface of her skin.

But then she sighs, and her hips shift about. “Sweetie, I don't think this is working,” she says. “I just can't seem to relax.”

Your hand still lightly upon her belly, you purse your lips and give the situation a bit of thought. After a moment, you rise to your feet and, without a word, take her by the hoof and coax her from the bed. Quickly snatching up one of her large seating cushions on the way, you lead her to the balcony.

From here, the lights of the city float below like tiny flecks of moonlit gold, and the sounds of carriages and music and happy ponies going about their business drift slowly upward to the palace through the cool of the evening. It would be hard to find a more lovely or relaxing place in all of Canterlot.

With this in mind, you set the cushion on the tiled floor and sit down, your back resting on the wall, and motion for Celestia to join you. Her tail floats and flicks against your chest as she stands in front of you, her rump waving ever so slightly from left to right, and your hands slide up along her hips and close about her belly as she lowers herself into your lap. Her body is slender but sweetly soft as she settles against you.

“This is nice.” She shuts her eyes and breathes deeply as the cool dampness of the night wind blows across her cheeks. “The air is so sweet out here.” She giggles for just a moment and adds with a grin, “But I suppose I'll soon be putting an end to that, won't I?”

There's a smile on your lips as you press them to her neck. The darkness hides her blush from your eyes, but you can feel her heat in your kisses. Her rump seated heavily upon your lap, a sudden deep, heavy vibration shakes your body, and the princess sighs in relief as her wind bubbles out against you.

“Better?” you ask, your palms rubbing short strokes on the sides of her delicate belly.

“Mhmm,” she answers as she wiggles her hips to lay her body more fully against your shoulder, the large, soft cheeks of her backside slipping aside to enclose your thigh between them. “Could you rub a bit harder, sweetie?”

You simply nod, and your strokes upon her belly grow firm, her stomach wonderfully plush beneath your palms yet still a bit taught with bloat. Your hand travels along her shimmering, fuzzy skin, and you feel every movement of her rolling insides, every warm, enticing pulse of her anus upon your thigh and the hot pressure of her gas as it escapes in a rumbling, noisy burst on the thick of your leg. The sounds and feel of her gassy belly make her seem so simple and delicate, like just another insignificant little life that wakes, and walks, and sleeps, and fades out in a blink of an eye. Celestia ... your sunrise.

As you prod fervently at her jaw, peppering her neck with kisses and dropping your fingers from her belly to grasp at the flesh of her supple backside, Celestia's eyes turn to the night sky. Alone on the tower, the two of you sit above the mountains – above the world – together upon an endless star dusted ocean that melts into the black of the horizon.

“Sweetie,” she says, “what did you mean when you said that my … sounds … were romantic?”

You pause for only a moment, then quietly laugh as your hand slips over her thigh and tightly grips the joint of her hock. “Maybe I'll tell you sometime, Tia. But not tonight.”

She squeaks in surprise as you suddenly give her hock a tug to bring her hoof high, lifting her legs, roughly spreading them apart and baring her naked hindquarters to the cool night air. You clasp her tightly to your chest. You kiss her – a firm, deep kiss. Her soft moan tingles your tongue as a long, hissing puff escapes her tightly puckered hole.

And for a moment, the sun is just another little star.

~Fin