Everything Old Is New Again

Octavia had nuzzled under Stout Heart’s chin until he smiled, and she’d carefully avoided blocking his gaze at any point. She had not carefully avoided his cock, however. She’d nuzzled that with even more delight, gazing rapt as it swelled to daunting girth and stiffness.

“Thought you were going to hide that for me,” Stout Heart murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon, his ears pivoting dutifully to pick up any stray noises.

Octavia had spotted that, and frowned. “Mm. Yes, I’d better,” she said, and rotated herself, briefly gritting her teeth for some reason as she tensed something he couldn’t see. For a moment, she wriggled her hips in front of him, and his eyes welded themselves to the bountiful jiggle, but then she was lowering herself, inching backwards until she felt his touch.

He was sitting on the ground, head raised, cock jutting out at a jaunty angle and well braced, and Octavia positioned herself so she could press back onto him and join him in his cozy sitting position, only impaled to the neck on stallionhood. And he smiled as he watched her press backward out of his peripheral vision—but his ear twitched as she began to lean back against his cock.

“Mmmmh… ohhhh… hhh… hhh….”

“Um… honey?” said Stout Heart. “Take it easy…”

“Unnh! nrrrh!”

The sensations of her plush but taut pussy began to make his eyes cross. It was as if she wasn’t going to fit—he’d penetrated her before, but this time Octavia was like trying to fuck the neck of a bottle—a wriggling, quivering, frantic bottle.

“Ahhh! Nhhhh!”

“Octavia? Hey… relax, and also I gotta listen for enemies, okay?”

She twisted her head around, and said, “In a… minute! A friend of mine… taught me this. Cramping up. For, nnggh! …fun?”

Stout Heart’s ears splayed sideways in shock. “You can make yourself be this tight on purpose?”

Octavia grinned wickedly. “Feels… good, does it not?”

He gulped. “Go ahead. Gosh. Wow…”

Octavia braced herself, and pushed. She was almost sure she’d heard noises from far above. She tensed her vagina even harder, letting it cramp up, and then worked her hips, shoving herself against the unyielding bulk, writhing with savage pleasure as his cock’s thickness began to pry her open and wedge inside.

“Hhh… unnnh… hhh… hhh! Uhhh! HHH! HHH! NHH!”

Stout Heart’s swollen flare disappeared inside Octavia’s vagina, and as it split her ruthless tightness it got past her strained vaginal muscles—and kept going, no longer resisted, and his shaft wedged smoothly into her in a single fluid motion, her weight impaling her on stallion erection.

Far below, as Lyra arced through the air, the elegant Octavia screamed in guttural lust as Stout Heart’s fat cock slid fully into her—and then, Lyra hit the edge of the roof, and scrabbled for a hold.

Her foreleg wrapped around the side of the roof, seizing a projecting form of carved and painted wood, which promptly broke off. Lyra slid down a foot, her hindquarters kicking as they dangled off the bottom edge of the roof, and her foreleg seized onto another projection—which creaked.

Vinyl Scratch stared in horror, as Octavia’s scream of lust died away into fading echoes. Through the dying reverberations, both Vinyl and Lyra could hear a faint ‘tonk’ as the piece of roof molding bounced off some rock or ledge, far below.

Lyra had stopped kicking. Her shapely hind legs dangled over the abyss, and her tail hung limply as she clung to what was left of the roof edge. Vinyl couldn’t even breathe, she just watched, her shades crooked on her face…

Lyra heaved herself forward, grabbing a fresh hold. Her tail thrashed. Vinyl whimpered.

From far below, the Royal Guard said, “Are you okay?”

Octavia let out a shuddering, sensuous moan as Lyra kicked silently far above her head. Another piece of roof trim came loose, tumbling as it fell, and Vinyl slunk forward to see where it went. This one arced in a curve, missing all the ledges and outcroppings, eventually disappearing into the swaying treetop far below.

Vinyl’s eyes slowly lifted. Lyra’s hoof kicked the air, her rump clenching as she tried to gather strength for another fresh hold higher up.

Vinyl gulped. “Can’t be heavier than, oh, eight decks? Twelve?” she breathed. “Come on, DJ, you can do this…”

Her horn glowed, no longer mindful of possible watchers, and a pool of light appeared under Lyra’s rear hoof.

Lyra’s head turned, her eye shocked, her gaze a question. Vinyl had said there was no chance of her supporting a full-grown pony’s weight with her telekinesis, and Lyra couldn’t argue, for she wouldn’t have been able to either.

Vinyl returned that gaze grimly, her lower lip stuck out in a pout, and gave one little nod, screwing her eyes shut.

Lyra put her weight on the little pool of magic light, and Vinyl collapsed, her mind whiting out with the pain of telekinetic overstress, sprawling limp onto the observatory balcony with her tail thrashing in silent anguish—but the foothold did not give way.

It took only a moment—she couldn’t have sustained it for more than a moment. A crackling haze of magic force surrounded Vinyl’s horn, linking to the foothold, and then it was over. Lyra had got off the roof edge and was clinging to the curving ledge that led down to her heart’s desire. The weight was gone again. Vinyl heard the faint sounds of Lyra sliding down the ledge, and then the click of her hooves hitting the stone balcony outside Princess Luna’s quarters—and then, steady walking, the clop of dainty hooves proceeding inside as Lyra sought her destiny. They were little trebly sounds, not deep resonant vowels and voices, and they bounced up, just as she’d predicted—nopony noticed. They’d done it.

Vinyl Scratch trembled, staring into space. Her shades hung askew off her nose. Gradually, she realized that one of the lenses was now cracked—and from the feel of it, the tip of her horn was charred, not even through fucking.

She gulped, the side of her face pressed to the cold stone floor.

“DJ Pon-3, don’t you ever be cool again,” she chided herself, with a shudder.

Then, she thought, and amended that. “Alright, never be THIS cool again…”

Octavia shuddered, still panting heavily, her vagina a steel band around Stout Heart’s throbbing stallionhood.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, worriedly. His ears were laid back. “It doesn’t feel comfortable. It can’t feel comfortable for you, can it?”

She turned her head, and her eyes were dazed, fogged by intensity. “Bear down,” she said.

“What? You mean… tense my… I don’t know what you call it, but down there? Try to get stiffer? Are you sure you want that? You feel really right on me.” He blinked, startled. “I mean tight…”

The corner of Octavia’s mouth curled upwards in amusement at the slip. “Go on…”

Stout Heart obeyed, and the stallionhood got stouter for a moment as he tensed his whole groin area, and Octavia shuddered as if struck by lightning and let out a soft sweet cry. Inside her, Stout Heart’s erection pried her a bit wider, flooding her with bittersweet sensation, dark chocolate laced with hot peppers, delicious and dangerous pleasure-pain.

And rather than pushing through that zone, working that cock in her, seeking to loosen her up and melt her and ease things over to normal lovemaking, he just sat with it and let her hover endlessly on that edge. She’d set it up for herself, knowing she could start off tight as a filly, knowing how intense it would be for her and him. It wouldn’t take much thrusting before she’d sag into a drooling puddle of quivering mare pleasure—she could feel it on the horizon for her, knew she was going to end up a boneless heap of ecstacy—but for the time being, her whole vagina throbbed and ached, still cramped tight, seemingly creaking under the strain, and Stout Heart’s penetrating cock felt like she was being fucked by a dragon, or a house, or a spire of the palace.

Octavia licked her lips, trembling, her pulse pounding in her ears.

“Just… keep doing that for a while.”

He’d relaxed, and still throbbed in his tight confines but with less of a harrowing edge to the sensation. “Mmm. Again?”

“W… when I’m not expecting it…” came Octavia’s rich voice.

A slow smile crept across Stout Heart’s face as he watched the darkness, and he sat very still, conserving his energies for the new game.

Lyra walked through the tall glass double doors, gently opening them with her magic, and closing them behind her. As she did, one last moan slipped through the crack—Octavia’s sensual benediction. Then, the doors shut and all outside sounds were sealed off, leaving her alone with a dream.

She walked slowly through the downstairs room, not even seeing her surroundings until she had to step aside to skirt around—what? It was dark, but there was no mistaking that she was in a library. The object in her path seemed like it might be a card catalog.

She turned away, but her eye wouldn’t follow. It had spotted something. It had spotted her name, in the gloom.

Lyra blinked. Why was her name here? She hesitated, and then tentatively allowed her horn to glow and illuminate the card catalog.

It wasn’t a catalog at all, but a sort of pony-log, and her name was on a card that had been drawn and left out. Drawers were labeled neatly with ranges of names—Ace to Berry Frost, Noteworthy to Orion. Rarity had a drawer all to herself, somehow. Lyra pulled it out and levitated up a old, yellowed card, reading it.

It said, “Suggested to Misty Fly that she look into Rarity’s work for awards ceremony attire—I believe Rarity can resolve the clash between her coat and her mane. Though she is only a filly, her fashion sense is maturing rapidly and soon she may be able to stand on her own four hooves. It is not yet time for her to confront those realities, however: for the time being, she must continue to feel unreasonably gifted and special. It is probably my best hope of transitioning her from her unfortunate situation and leading her to develop and grow—would that I had perceived that more quickly! But she would not have responded until things got to a head. Note: watch closely for signs of pregnancy.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped, and she drew another, later card. It said, “Rarity may be leading Applejack down a path she cannot traverse! I have grave fears about the stability of their relationship. At this point there can be few doubts that Rarity would weather any storms of their affections, but if Applejack drops out of sight or buries herself in work again, I must make a social call. Note: talk of ponies’ extended families, to restore Applejack’s awareness of her strengths in that area. That mare is maddeningly prone to forget that she is loved. See: Applejack, further notes.”

Lyra stared. Luna was the social and romantic coordinator for all of Ponyville, with particular interest in the Element Bearers? What was she doing keeping extensive notes in a card catalog?

Her eyes dropped to her name, and in the light from her horn she could see it was on one of the cards, and she read what it said about her.

“Lyra is a thoughtless mare, but it is hard to tell how much of this is due to her high-strung nature, and how much is simply youth. It seems to persist beyond what is timely—my sister seems to think her attractive, which is concerning. Best to turn a blind eye and hope foolish Lyra fixates on some other pony, hopefully not one easily disrupted! It is difficult to imagine where she could possibly belong. She is something of a menace, and it is a mercy she has departed the company of Twilight and Trixie. Note: watch Trixie, if necessary reminding her not to chase ponies through the streets with whips. Note to note: I cannot believe I just had to write that…”

Lyra dropped the card.

Celestia had a crush on her? But… it was not Celestia who haunted her dreams, not Celestia she loved! Luna thought her foolish, callow, thoughtless? A menace? Lyra’s lip quivered, and before she knew what was happening, she was running for the stairwell she saw, clattering up it, galloping down a little corridor looking this way and that with her horn glowing brightly, and when she saw a gleam in the darkness she rushed into the room that presented itself to her—and she stood, trembling and tearful, before Princess Luna herself.

Luna rose up, in shock, staring wide-eyed at the distraught little unicorn who cried out in anguish, “I’m sorry! I won’t be thoughtless! Please don’t think I’m a menace!”

“What is this?” stammered Princess Luna. “What brings you to our presence at this hour, in this place?”

“I… I…” managed Lyra, trying to overcome what seemed in the note like an infinite wall of contempt and disapproval, and then she burst into tears.

Luna’s lip quivered, and then she’d rushed forward and was hugging the little green unicorn. “Don’t cry! Please don’t cry. What ever is the matter, Lyra?”

Lyra wiped her eyes. “But… I’ve felt you in my dreams and I fell in love and I came here to offer myself to you and then it turns out Princess Celestia likes me instead but I don’t want her, I need you more than anything, and you think I’m an awful mean thoughtless pony and you called me a menace and I didn’t mean to hurt the feelings of those ponies, I just get all excited…”

“What, what?” said Luna, her wings furling and unfurling in anxiety. “Who said Sister likes you? Again, what is all this?”

Lyra gulped. “I love you, but you made little cards about everypony and you were just writing on mine! You said you should turn a blind eye and hope foolish Lyra fixates on some other pony, like I’m just a problem running around hurting ponies! I don’t want you to turn a blind eye on me! How could you write all those things, Princess?”

Luna’s gaze was stricken.

“We did not. They are Celestia’s.”

Time stopped for Lyra, hearing those words, as her universe flipped over and reshuffled itself in her mind.

“She can’t remember everything,” said Luna. “There is too much. She is too old. She is very dedicated…”

Luna gulped, and continued.

“And we were not writing them. We were reading… and trying to see reason.”

Luna’s eyes seemed so huge, so deep. There was so much suffering in them. Lyra gazed into them, and said in a little voice, “Did ya?”

Princess Luna’s voice trembled. “Nay.”

Lyra’s thoughts whirled. She looked away, trying to get it straight. It wasn’t Luna writing those things—it was Celestia who considered her thoughtless and disruptive (and, looking back at her history, the Princess had a point). It was Celestia grateful she had left Twilight and Trixie, Celestia who considered her a challenge and a menace. And it was Celestia’s sister who was said to find her attractive…

Lyra looked back at Princess Luna, and the Princess was shaking. She gazed into Luna’s eyes, and saw an echo of her own high-strung madness, her own exhausting urgency and hungers, but on a vastly grander scale.

Luna teared up as she gazed upon the little green unicorn. She gulped again, and spoke.

“Thou are not the harmful, foul menace here, little pony.”

Her body was trembling against Lyra’s, and suddenly Lyra became very calm, and everything made sense. Her feelings, the haunting of her dreams, this shame, her whole life—everything. She looked right into Luna’s tearful, guilt-ridden, hungry eyes, and spoke to her.

“I love you more than anything. Please let me give myself to you in every way. I am all yours and that’s the only place I should ever be.”

Luna didn’t respond, and Lyra leaned closer.

“Please love me back. Please.”

“That isn’t the point,” muttered Luna.

“Yes, it is,” said Lyra, with perfect, arrogant certainty.

Princess Luna shook—and then, suddenly, Lyra’s breath was knocked out of her. The Princess had seized her in a desperate embrace, wrapping her in ebony wings that shuddered and quaked. “I do! Oh, Celestia forgive me, I do…”

Lyra wriggled, and let out a clear, chiming laugh with what breath she had left. “That… oof! wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The Princess pulled back and stared at her in disbelief. “Do our ears deceive us? Lyra, this is terrible! We are being punished for seeking to corrupt and ravish a helpless pony, and we are at it again, and thou seest not the problem?”

“Ooooh,” squeaked Lyra, “you’re really at it again? Really?”

Luna glared at her. “Why, little pony, are you seemingly so filled with glee about it?”

“Because I’m yours,” said Lyra. “So this time—you get to go through with it.”

Luna arched a skeptical eyebrow. She released Lyra, and stared at her. “Mad filly. We have not consented to a thing. We are being punished, I repeat. Maybe I can put it in terms you understand, and speak in the manner of a modern-day pony. Lyra, what gives you the right?”

“To do what?” challenged Lyra. “To love you? Maybe it was when our eyes met. Maybe it’s because we’re so much like each other. Maybe I understand you where other ponies wouldn’t.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re another throwback. I can feel it in you. Where is the sense in you serving me?”

That made Lyra blink. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Thou clearly seekest…”

“No,” said Lyra, “no no no. You’ve got it all wrong.” Her eyes gleamed, that manic edge making it seem perfectly natural to contradict an alicorn Princess thousands of years old. “For such a wise Princess you’ve got some funny ideas. I’ve never been very good at getting ordered around. You’re not going to do that.”

Luna blinked. “We’re not?”

Lyra shook her head, minty-green mane tossing as she did. “No way! If that’s what you get punished for, you should be fine. I don’t think you really need that as much as you think you do. You’re just stuck in old habits.”

Luna’s jaw dropped. “Indeed! This is thy love, mad filly? Telling your Mistress…”

Lyra’s little hoof touched her lips, and Princess Luna stopped, shocked.

“Not Mistress. Rarity tried to do that and it didn’t go well at all,” said Lyra. “Let’s make it a lot simpler. I know what you need.”

Her luminous golden eyes dilated. Luna sank into them, their bold confidence, so unlike the subservience she’d imagined was part of love and sex. It echoed some things that she’d found captivating about Trixie Lulamoon. She found herself saying, “And what, pray tell, dost we needeth from…”

“You’re horny,” accused Lyra, eyes gleaming happily. “It must’ve been a long time you went without, it’s making you crazy. I love you more than anything, so let me take the pressure off and maybe you’ll feel better and be less crazy? How about that, doesn’t that make sense?”

Luna dropped her gaze, and muttered, “Long time, yes. Thou could say that.”

Lyra frisked, with a little squeak of delight, and Princess Luna started trembling again, her wings lifting.

“Let’s have sex! I bet you’ll feel much better once you’ve had sex!”

“And how,” said Luna archly, “dost thou propose we do that?”

“Oh!” blinked Lyra. “I brought this thing, it should help. Twilight has one, so does Rarity. I can use it on you, though what would really be exciting is if you use it on m…”

Luna’s horn was glowing, and she trailed off staring at it. It was really something to see. Princess Luna had a massive, massive horn, completely out of the unicorn class. Lyra whimpered, her knees wobbling as Luna’s magic opened her little saddlebag and drew out her magic bit.

Luna’s legs were shaking, and she was breathing heavily, almost panting, her eyes not quite focussed, every bit as lust-maddened as Lyra. She shook her head as if to clear it, and muttered one final objection.

“I’m too pent up… I fear I may come, ah… violently…”

Lyra’s eyes widened, and her legs gave way entirely, and she landed on her butt with a squeak and a squish, her body quivering. She knew what Luna really meant, by that. Her eyes stayed locked on Luna’s horn, and she began to pant excitedly.

Princess Luna had worn many expressions, from guilt to frustration to annoyance, but as she looked on the little pony who’d come to give her devotion, the pony she’d stalked in dreams and forbidden herself from desiring too avidly, the pony that bounced up behind crowds with squeaks of glee and had the incredible nerve to tell a Princess what to do, the pony that now sat trembling expectantly in her bedroom with mouth hanging open and vagina winking spastically against the rug… Princess Luna smiled, wider and wider.

“Oh, Lyra…”

Lyra made a little squeaky noise of sheer excitement as the magic bit floated towards Luna’s mouth. “Eeee…”

“As thou wish,” said Princess Luna, her body shaking with its need—and she bit down on the cylinder of gleaming metal.

Lyra squealed, as she felt alicorn magic seize her bodily and lift her, whisking her into the air and plunking her on all fours on the bed. She felt Princess Luna leaping toward her, but before Luna could mount, Lyra whirled and flipped onto her back, throwing her forelegs and hindlegs wide. Luna reared, startled, mighty wings flapping, a bold deep-blue erection jutting from between her legs.

“I want to watch!” squeaked Lyra. She hesitated, and then repeated herself. “Like this. I want to watch. I wanna SEE…”

Princess Luna’s eyes widened, and then she bowed her head. She snorted, with amusement, pawing the bed with a forehoof. “Thou‘re unique…”

“I’m all yours,” said Lyra, heart hammering in her chest. “Love me?”

Luna dipped her head further, smiling. Her nose nuzzled Lyra’s tender, pert vagina, sniffing approvingly. Then, as Lyra’s eyes widened, Princess Luna’s head dipped still lower—and her massive, bulky horn began to rub and stroke Lyra’s belly, the base of it nuzzling her mons.

“Eeeeee….” squealed Lyra, and began to pant twice as fast.

“H’w do you w’nt it?”

Lyra’s eyes begged frantically for anything, everything, and Luna’s head lifted enough to read the expression. She smiled at Lyra again, a quivery over-intense smile with the eyes far too bright, and suddenly Princess Luna was no longer asking, she was telling.

“ALL th’ w’y…”

Lyra shuddered, and spread her hindlegs more, tilting her hips and frantically trying to aim them for Luna as she moved in, lowered herself…

“Eeeeeh! Nnnhh! Oooh!”

As Luna’s cock pressed against Lyra’s taut, silky nook, Lyra shivered and bucked underneath her, body writhing in a series of immediate orgasms that left her vagina slickly lubricated. Luna nudged her again, with the same result, and lifted an eyebrow. She had to wait for a moment for Lyra to return to earth, and then she spoke.

“Fa’r warning, I’m hold’ng back at f’rst. Okay?”

Lyra grinned madly up at her.

“So am I,” she said, and thumped Princess Luna’s sides with her forehooves, as if they were spurs.

Luna’s eyes widened in shock, and then she grinned savagely around the bit, and without a moment’s hesitation, she swung her slender hips forward, and sank magical alicorn cock deeply into Lyra with a single virile thrust.

Lyra let out a shriek, and wrapped her hindlegs around Luna’s body as well as she could—she clung to her new lover with greedy delight, savoring that lithe powerful form pressed against her breasts and belly, jolting with orgasmic release as Luna’s cock thrust within her. She cried out wantonly, her body writhing, crazed with pleasure, trying to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head from sheer sensual overload.

Luna grinned around the bit, working her hips and savoring the sensation of wielding a magical cock again, after so terribly long. Lyra was really special, her pussy snug and eager and quiveringly aroused, and the sensual electricity was building up rapidly when Luna’s eyes flew wide. Lyra’s hooves were rubbing the bases of her wings, which immediately went bolt erect. “Ghhh!”

“ALL the way!” moaned Lyra, and then let out another orgiastic shriek, body shaking as Luna’s hips hunched against her fevered mound.

Luna’s eyes were shocked. She’d expected to build things up her way, but her little unicorn lover knew just what to do to goad things on with uncompromising speed. Luna gritted her teeth around the bit, erection going stiffer to the sound of a lewd wail from Lyra beneath her. She screwed her eyes shut, as Lyra’s hooves fondled her wing shanks and rubbed the muscled roots, and Princess Luna whimpered with arousal, for she had found a lover who matched her hungers. All she could do was hold back her final climax, knowing that once the magic cock started to come, she had no chance of self control at all.

“Eyes!” wailed Lyra desperately. “Op! En! NnnHHH! Aaahhh! Open! Your eyes, aahhhh!”

Luna had been nudging the cock to Lyra’s deepest depths with her slim deer-like hips, with her eyes tightly closed, allowing her orgasm to be carried along by Lyra’s wing-fondling, but when she heard the tone of Lyra’s voice she stopped and stared. Lyra’s gaze was desperate.

“All I ask! I’ve got to be looking in your eyes!” she said. She didn’t explain further, didn’t say ‘because it might be the last thing I ever see’, didn’t do anything more than hit Princess Luna with a pleading look, but behind those golden eyes her brain was telling her the forces being unleashed would destroy her, and her heart and soul were overruling the brain effortlessly and saying, bring it…

Princess Luna didn’t start moving again immediately. She gazed deeply into those pleading, golden eyes, reading the longing, the vulnerability, intuitively understanding what was being said. She snorted a deep breath through flared nostrils, and Lyra quivered, impaled under her, completely surrendering.

Luna’s eyes didn’t blink, as she shifted those lithe hips back and forth gently. Her heart pounded in her massive alicorn chest, but Lyra’s hammered doubletime. Lyra squirmed, shivering madly, eyes too bright, teeth chattering and mouth in a rictus grin.

Luna took a deep breath through her nose, and began to work her swollen cock back and forth more eagerly, still staring Lyra in the eye. Her huge, bulky horn began to glitter faintly, and Lyra panted, wriggling, staring at it entranced, then returning her gaze to Luna’s eyes through sheer force of will and refusing to be distracted from them again.

Luna shifted her hind hoof to get more leverage, a more fluid thrust, and her motion became a sort of languid churning, thick stallionhood burying itself over and over within Lyra’s body, emerging glistening with unicorn juices, then gracefully plunging to her womb again. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes grew more fierce, still not blinking.

Lyra bit her lip tenderly, once—and reached up with forehooves, and resumed massaging the bases of Princess Luna’s erect wings.

The reaction was instant. Luna’s body jolted, and her eyes went feral. Lyra lost herself in them, her lips parting in a soundless cry of joy, the stallion cock plunging more and more eagerly to her depths, and all the time she firmly rubbed and fondled those mighty wings…

Luna never blinked, even as her body convulsed, shoved horsecock up Lyra in a mad hunching spasm, and gushed come violently into her womb. She kept her eyes locked on Lyra’s in a terrifying, wild stare, knowing what was being asked of her.

Lyra shrieked as the stallionhood plunged into her and cut loose, drenching her pussy in magical alicorn come, and her eyes were full of shock and wonder as she let go and surrendered to her climax completely. Her body was already shaking in continuous orgasm, but when she felt that cock spurting inside her in brutal, ecstatic throbs, she could hold back no more, and her horn flared to life and blasted magic violently at the wall…

…and Princess Luna cried a guttural cry through her tight-gripped magic bit and allowed herself to come, her horn exploding with light and magic.

The bolt blasted out, arcing through the air, and then it found Lyra’s horngasm and locked on with a savage jolt, and Lyra’s whole body went rigid—and then, Luna’s magic followed it back to Lyra’s elegant little unicorn horn, slamming into Lyra’s pride and completing the connection effortlessly, in spite of Lyra’s full magic-gushing release.


Princess Luna couldn’t help herself, she roared and shook as she poured alicorn magic in massive psychic orgasm. Lyra shook like a pennant in a high wind, and screamed. Blinding white light poured out of her eyes, her mouth, her skin glowed with a fierce internal light, and she kept shaking and spasming madly even as the magic stallionhood continued to gush and spurt inside her. She writhed, screaming, racked by unendurable ecstacy, the glow from her body becoming brighter and brighter as Princess Luna hunched and roared and flooded her with an uncontrolled torrent of magic.

There was a flash and a heavy thump, centered around Princess Luna’s horn-base, and all the light went out, as Luna collapsed onto her lover.

She panted for a moment, and then spat the bit out on the bedspread. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She hadn’t got off like that in… ever?

Something smelled funny.

Luna sniffed the air, and then gasped in alarm and horror. Her horn glowed feebly as she kindled the lights of the room, and she had to try it twice because she was so drained that the first time, it didn’t happen. She stared at her hoofiwork—or horniwork, in several senses of the word.

Lyra lay like a dead thing, jaw hanging open. Her eyes stared at nothing. Her body was literally smoking. Her pussy gaped sadly, the stallionhood withdrawn from it and even the magically-induced gushers of stallion-semen, gone.

More than half of Lyra’s lovely horn was burned away.

Princess Luna’s mind stopped, as she took in the sight. At that moment, she loved the little green unicorn more than anything she’d ever loved in her life, yet she had destroyed that which loved her best…

Then, as the full realization sank in, something wonderful happened. Lyra drew in a deep breath with a hideous croaking noise, her chest rising, and Luna slowly crumpled against her in grovelling tears, face pressed to her pony lover’s still-smoking body. She shuddered, wings flapping uncoordinatedly, racked with bitter sobs of guilt and joy, pressing her ear to Lyra’s chest to hear the determined beating of that little pony heart.

After a minute of this, she saw something white out of the corner of her vision, and her eyes turned, slowly, to see the astonishing sight of Princess Celestia, there in her room.

Celestia was just… looking, at the two of them. Just looking, her expression unreadable. Luna was so wrung out, drained, whipsawed by unbearable grief and debilitating relief, that she could not put together a coherent thought, and she just looked stupidly back at her older sister for a moment.

She gulped. She spoke. “What do you see, sister?”

“A mystery, explained.”

“I swear, I did not plan this!”

“Not you, sister,” said Celestia. “Not you. I shall have to speak with that mare.” She shook her head. “And yet, for all that, she did not deceive me. Astonishing.”

Luna stared in wonder at her sister. Beside her, Lyra breathed shallowly, then stirred and made a faint whimpering noise. Without even a conscious thought, Princess Luna pulled Lyra closer with a wing, and Lyra snuggled up and promptly passed out again. Princess Celestia watched this, her eyes widening.

“I… see.”

“You are not angry?” asked Luna.

Celestia shook her head, marvelling. “I am… amazed. Not least at my miraculous little ponies. No, I am not angry, Luna.”

“Thank you for that, beloved sister,” said Luna. She hesitated, and asked, “Whatever were you talking about? Somepony deceiving you—or not deceiving you? And how is it you suddenly appeared by my side, in this intimate moment?”

“I was wakeful,” explained Princess Celestia. “I had to be attentive, for Stout Heart was being distracted.” She chuckled. “I’m sure he remained watchful, but clearly this is why she was doing it. Ah, my ponies… I knew it couldn’t be for some dark purpose, but now some of the clouds are lifting. So it was all to sneak this unicorn pony into your bed?”

It was Princess Luna’s eyes’ turn to widen. “There were others? Lyra was not alone?”

“Oh yes. Quite a little conspiracy, in fact. I had nothing to do with it, but now that I see what they have done, I wouldn’t change a thing.” Celestia frowned. “Possibly excepting the sex with Royal Guards. I do not think anypony would fault me for wishing to change that. Discipline would suffer dreadfully if that became a thing one did.”

Luna gasped. “You’re joking!”

“I shall ask her please not to do it again,” said Princess Celestia, wryly. “If she would be so good.”

“Rainbow Dash?” guessed Princess Luna. “No, wait, she’s pregnant. Lyra? Hmph. But it didn’t feel like it…”

“Octavia,” replied Celestia, and Luna’s jaw dropped again.

“We don’t know our little ponies at all, do we?” she said weakly.

“Our amazing, our miraculous little ponies,” marvelled Princess Celestia. “In truth, I could not even find it in my heart to scold them for this, sex with royal guards and all. They have done for you what I could not do with all my power. I’m inclined to be grateful.”

Princess Luna gulped, and drew Lyra closer with her wing. Lyra yawned and nestled against her body, and Luna trembled with joy. “Oh, sister. So am I!”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Grateful enough to care for her? Even if I did not know her, I know this scenario. She will not wish to leave you, sister. Regular ponies will no longer interest her, they’ll seem terribly inadequate. That horn will grow back, stronger and better, but it will take time—and you will have to be more gentle with her, while it does.”

“I will!” insisted Princess Luna, her eyes glowing with devotion. “I promise I will!”

“You’ll have to,” snorted Princess Celestia. “Unless I miss my guess, it may be a challenge. I warn you, they find that sort of thing rather irresistible, and I do not easily picture Lyra as being patient. I am sure she will want more of the same—as sure of it as I am sure the sun will rise tomorrow morning. But, sister, hear me: if you burn through all of her horn while flooding her with magic during sex, she will die when it’s gone and the magic is no longer catalyzed.”

For a moment, Princess Celestia looked very old, and very haunted.

Luna became solemn. “I understand. I promise, I will never do that.”

“Luna?” said Celestia softly.


“She… will die.”

Silence fell. Luna drew Lyra’s sleeping body a bit closer still. She looked down for a few long, thoughtful seconds, and when she returned her gaze to Celestia’s, it was somber. “Yes,” she said.

“She’s a unicorn,” said Celestia gently, “a mortal pony. Do you understand that? Truly understand it?”

“Yes,” admitted Princess Luna, “…but I needed to love.”

Princess Celestia smiled. “Yes, you did. Sleep well, dear sister…”

Quietly, she departed, leaving Luna alone to cuddle the limp, sleeping form of the little green unicorn pony who’d come to offer her love and life.

She considered this, thinking about her own choices and the biddings of her own heart. Luna frowned to herself. She had longed for the love of Trixie, yet what had she done? She had tried to seize it by force, she had rationalized herself, and in the end she had accepted defeat, and declared herself not only defeated but destroyed, unfit for pony company, doomed to exile and a limitless life of mourning both before and after her Trixie’s inevitable death.

Yet there had never been ‘her Trixie’, Luna admitted. It had been about herself, always, whether in conquest or defeat or exile. Princess Celestia had despaired of her, for in truth she had remained entirely self-absorbed throughout.

Luna stroked Lyra’s sleeping body with an ebony wing. Here was a pony who offered another example—who’d turned up filled with her own self-absorption, been confused and misled, and somehow had responded with a frantic desire to make everything okay. Not for herself—for her love, for Luna. She hadn’t made it about herself and her wishes—she’d opened herself to Luna and her point of view, and then she’d listened and directed things, offered her own opinions, sought to make things better for Luna in her simple and fearsomely direct unicorn mare way.

She had yearned for the love of Luna, but chose to accept it in any way it was offered—even if it cost her own life.

Luna asked herself what love would have meant, had she burned up that eager darling in a paroxysm of lust. Passion was glorious, and for some ponies (or even Princesses) it attained terrifying force—but what grew from the passion? She contrasted the hours she’d spent trying to break Trixie to her will, her very soul yearning for the stubborn blue unicorn’s love—with the shockingly few minutes she’d spent with Lyra.

Again, she had lost herself to passion, again she’d had a firm idea of how things must be, but Lyra had appeared in her bedroom and all that was abandoned instantly. She’d dropped everything and tried to work out what had upset the adorable green unicorn mare. She’d been driven to abandon her pretense of nonchalance within seconds, and embraced her heart’s desire, high on emotion. Lyra had rushed in determined to grovel and do whatever she wanted to win Luna’s heart, only to discover it was already won—and had instantly set about trying to learn what was troubling the alicorn Princess.

Lyra had jumped to the conclusion that Luna’s distress had much to do with intense frustration, and without batting an eyelash, she’d offered herself sexually, without conditions or reservations—yet when things got going, she’d immediately asserted herself, producing a scene that was shared, and wasn’t entirely as expected by either pony.

And in the end, Lyra had offered herself, her very life, up for the benefit of nothing more than Luna’s pleasure and her own—and they’d indulged in passion beyond anything Luna had ever imagined, without any of the trappings she’d thought were so passionate. There were no whips or chains or shackles, no mind games, nothing.

Their shared madness burned together, illuminating every outline of what Luna and Lyra considered to be love, and defined its shallowness perfectly and eloquently. Passion was, indeed, the fire to be willingly destroyed in.

Luna drew Lyra closer to her with that vast, protective wing—the very wing that Lyra had correctly spotted as an erogenous zone and gone after, to fan Luna’s passion to endless heights.

They had passion. What, then, was love?

Luna’s face grew serious as she looked across the bed, at where she’d dropped the magic bit. That was passion, in a magical artifact, distilled and refined. It enhanced passion. It goaded ponies on to do mad things. Like…

Luna froze. How much of the delicious, entrancing Lyra whose passionate dreams she’d haunted, how much of the incandescent green mare who’d come right into her bedroom—how much of the Lyra she loved, was because of the magic bit? Had she been wearing it all the time, sleeping with it, distorting herself by it, and was that the reason she’d come to rival the passions of a fullgrown alicorn mare?

Luna held very still for a minute, considering.

Then, her horn glowed, though it was still weak from the sexual release it had vented earlier. The magic bit lifted off the bedspread, and floated across the room. Then, it floated out the door, and found its way to a storage closet, quite a way down the hall.

That would put it out of range, and it would distort Lyra’s heart and mind no more—unless she chose to use it, on a more limited basis.

Luna bent her head reverently, and lifted her wing. The sleeping unicorn stirred, but was still too wiped out to wake, even when Princess Luna gently kissed the stump of her burnt-up horn.

“You became a lot like me,” said Luna, softly. “But it’s not all about me, is it?”

She smiled down at her sleeping lover, tears glistening in her eyes.

“I will nurse you back to health, sweet darling. Nothing would make me happier. And,” she said, and gulped, “I’m going to learn who you really are, even if it’s not exactly what I thought. I’m going to learn you by heart, my love—because I give you my heart.”

The corner of Lyra’s mouth twitched upward.

One eye peeked open.

“How much do you want to bet I’m still ‘horny’?” she said, hoarsely, and winked.

Luna’s jaw dropped, and she stared at the little green wiseacre, who pretended to go back to sleep… and then, Princess Luna laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Earlier, Octavia had become increasingly drunk on sensuous pleasure, having got through her main task of guard distraction. She was certain she’d heard Scratchie and Lyra up on the rooftops while she’d wriggled and pressed backwards onto Stout Heart’s cock, but nopony had heard anything shortly after that, for she’d just about screamed her lungs out when she took all of him.

After that, things had been quiet for a while, and she’d spent her time moaning sweetly and getting the shivers when he tensed and stiffened himself in her. Octavia drifted into an ecstatic state, her quivering vagina softening and becoming tender and yielding with such delicious gradualness. Stout Heart was so wonderful! She scolded herself for ever having felt hurt by his comments, even if they were about fat mommy hips. If that was what he liked, she reasoned, let him enjoy it.

She was enjoying him hugely.

Stout Heart smiled foolishly as his eyes scanned the darkened horizon. It was just about the best shift ever—or at least the warmest? He heaved a happy sigh, and his eyes snuck down again to appreciate the luscious roundnesses of Octavia’s amazing ass.

He was truly sunk to the hilt in her, all right—her lovely tail draped him when she wasn’t swishing it across his belly to make him giggle, and his crotch pressed right up against those glorious silky grey cheeks.

It gave him an idea.

Surreptitously glancing down, he jounced himself in place, with a quick twitch of his hips.

He was rewarded by a spectacular quiver and ripple of Octavia’s buttocks, but surprisingly that wasn’t what entranced him most. It was the sound she made, a breathless shivery gasp that spoke eloquently of her unexpected, vivid jolt of pleasure. It seemed to hang in the air, the most beautiful cry ever—for she was clearly the most beautiful (and sexiest) mare ever, and wasn’t it appropriate that her joy and delight was voiced in the most beautiful cries in Equestria?

He did it again.

“Oh, Stout Heart!” moaned Octavia, and her voice was honeyed, redolent of sensual abandonment. He’d never heard anything so wonderful in all his life. So he did it again.

“Ahhh!” she cried, and began to tremble and quiver all over.

Stout Heart grinned. It got better and better—perhaps this was a good time to explore what happened when you took the most beautiful mare in Equestria, and bounced her on your lap until she completely lost her mind. However, he was still on duty, so little tiny bounces would have to do, so he could pretend he wasn’t full-on fucking.

He soon realized the fallacy of that theory.

As he continued to deliver the little tiny jounces, he couldn’t help but look down, and Octavia’s buttocks were bouncing and quivering against him without a pause, and the sight made him go hard as a rock within her, and possibly get a bit longer while he was at it. Then, his attention was drawn by her shuddering gasps for air, her lewd quavery moans that got bolder and bolder until she was crying, “Aaahhh! Ohhhh!” without inhibition. It seemed that determined jouncing could be just about as exciting as deep, fierce thrusting.

Octavia gasped for breath, tossing her mane, her tail thrashing against Stout Heart’s belly as his deep-thrust stallion cock jounced firmly and insistently against her insides. She banged the stone balcony floor with a forehoof, her ears laid back, and squealed—and that was the limit for the hapless Royal Guard. He stopped, and begged, “Octavia, baby, please!”

Octavia twisted back to stare frantically at him. “Don’t stop! Oh, don’t stop, don’t, don’t!”

“But we’re gonna be the loudest things in Canterlot!”

Octavia’s eyes widened. Her nostrils flared in outrage, and she withered him with a haughty stare, and declared, “Stout Heart, you are the most glorious stallion in the universe. I shall keep you, and I am yours forever, and I am composing all of my concertos in honor of your penis from this day forward.”

His jaw dropped. “You what?”

“So finish me, damn it, just like that! I am SINGING your praises to the world and want all Equestria to hear them!”

Stout Heart’s ear twitched. He stared helplessly at the beautiful, adoring, commanding mare who straddled his lap and demanded to sing the joys of his penis to the entire palace.

He reeled in his dangling jaw, and he shrugged—and set to jouncing again, for at that moment, he could no more resist her than he could resist an earthquake.

Octavia looked like she was being hit by an earthquake. She’d got right back to crooning and moaning loudly, but it all caught up with her at once, and first she let out a breathy scream, and then when he kept on going through that, Octavia’s eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body shuddered and quaked, her pussy convulsing onto him in delicious spasms.

With that, Stout Heart went off like a cannon. His body gave a great heave and gushed stallion-come deeply into Octavia in one huge thick spurt—and that was when all hell really broke loose.

Octavia let out a strangely elegant shriek, and it hung in the air like a jewel, and then the night was filled with a wild actinic glare and split by wild, debauched screaming.

Stout Heart glanced around frantically, but he was still coming, still pumping spooge into the most beautiful mare in Equestria, and she was still shuddering and crying out in spite of the fireworks above, and nothing else was happening—nothing was attacking, it was just the searing light and that outrageous screaming. Gradually, his body subsided; gradually, Octavia quieted. Overhead, the light and screaming cut out as abruptly as a thrown switch.

He panted, staring up at what was plainly Princess Luna’s bedroom. “What in Equestria was that? I guess we’re not the loudest things in Canterlot!”

“Honey?” came Octavia’s voice, and he looked back at her to discover she was smiling.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Really. It’s all okay.”

“But what was it?”

“Oh, sweetie!” said Octavia, indulgently. “Even a Princess needs love!”