No You Don’t

Twilight Sparkle looked Princess Celestia in the eye.

That alone was troubling. Twilight shifted a hind hoof fretfully. She’d always literally looked up to Princess Celestia and depended on her strong, comforting presence, but now everything had changed. Twilight’s body had changed, her mind had changed, and as if in response to her heightened mastery and control, Princess Celestia had faltered. Now they saw eye-to-eye in more ways than one—and rather than thrill Twilight, this flooded her with worry.

Celestia had taken Discord’s betrayal hard, and was not the mare she had been. Dark circles showed under her eyes, she gazed off into space at nothing of consequence, and she spent the days fussing over the palace as if it had suddenly become much less acceptable. She organized and re-organized the bookshelves, and she stole a dustpan from the earth pony servants and furtively tidied hallways that were already clean. Celestia was inconsolable, and Twilight couldn’t even distract her from her woe.

Twilight felt that the stress of this, and the expectations on herself as a new alicorn of leadership, had guided her into a new and unpleasant state of existence where she saw through all deceptions to the secret truths of those around her. It wasn’t a lot of fun. She wondered why she’d got such a treacherous gift, graduating to the true perception of everypony’s needs and delusions just when they were all most miserable and wrong. Everything became a threat, and terribly serious, and it was all her problem to fix.

Not for the first time, Twilight caught herself gazing off into space, forlorn. It was always the same thought, and though it was a wish for simpler times, it wasn’t about anything too specific. It wasn’t a place, or any specific event, that haunted her.

Princess Twilight Sparkle was trying to remember what it felt like to be a unicorn.

Not any special one, either. Nothing more than regular Twilight Sparkle, back when she believed herself to be the sweet innocent unicorn mare without such frightful power and responsibility. The little lavender unicorn, who’d lost her virginity to Applejack—the mare new to Ponyville and unexpectedly welcomed just as herself, with all her insecurity and desire to fit in. She’d only wanted to belong, frightened of the strangers who would become her closest friends, alarmed at her recent loss of the most powerful sense of belonging she’d ever felt: being Princess Celestia’s prize student, kept figuratively under the Princess’s wing and lost in happy studies in a timeless world of friendly, abstract ideas.

How far she’d come. She frowned, her mind reaching out and searching for the feeling of herself: the self she knew, or thought she knew. It remained elusive, as if it had never existed, and Twilight looked sad and lost.

Her responsibilities called. She shook herself. There was no time for idle fantasy…

Because the worst emergency was right in front of her, going on even as she spaced out in unhappy daydreams.

Princess Celestia refused to punish Discord any further.

Twilight stamped her hoof, looking Celestia in the eye again. “I’ve made very good suggestions. Correct suggestions. You’re not respecting my alicorn powers if you won’t listen to them. I’m trying to lead you. Three very good suggestions you refuse to take!”

Celestia gave her a bitter, sad look. “You are including the first suggestion, Twilight, and I already regret taking that one. I could have borne the strain of keeping Chaos and her toy under my roof. They clearly expected to remain. Well, Chaos did, Crowbar probably didn’t think about it very much.” She winced, a tear coming to her eye.

“I am not! I have a new suggestion. And it was the least you could do, Princess,” insisted Twilight. “You were suffering and you were right to banish them, but you’ve got to finish the job!”

“Oh?” retorted Celestia. “What job, prithee, young Twilight? I still rule this palace and you have not cast me down. You suggested turning Chaos to stone…”

“Discord,” corrected Twilight, fighting off stray fantasies of casting Princess Celestia down onto something bedlike, and getting extremely royal with her.

“Chaos,” argued Celestia. “That is her true name, and alicorns are female unless a magic bit intervenes. Your other suggestion was sending Chaos to the moon. Pray tell, what is your third helpful suggestion, Twilight?”

Twilight’s face burned. She set her jaw. “Turning Discord to stone, ON the moon. Since you ask.”

“Nay,” said Princess Celestia grimly. “Have you other helpful suggestions?”

“I’ll think of something,” vowed Twilight Sparkle.

At a distance, the other alicorns looked on worriedly. Not Chaos, of course, for she was banished—but Luna, Cadance, and Numeric Essence watched the exchange. Lyra was also present, accompanying her Princess and watching things with lively interest. Numeric Essence asked, politely, “Is Princess Twilight going to cast down Princess Celestia and go off to turn Princess Chaos to stone? She looks very fierce.”

Luna blanched. “No!”

“Well, then,” said Essence blithely, “we can and should return to our researches. Princess Luna, we had resolved that your existential purpose was best described as Service?”

Cadance glanced back and forth between Celestia and Luna, made a quick decision and reared up to briefly hug Luna. She turned to Essence and said, “Essie, you’re frightening them. Twilight would never do that! Being a leader means earning the support of your followers, it’s not about simply being some overbearing tyrant.”

“How am I frightening them?” blinked Numeric Essence. “Was it something I said?”

Cadance flapped her wings in agitation. There were a few primary feathers missing from each. “Yes, it was something you said,” she explained. “We have bad memories about casting down our beloved Celestia and would be happier if you didn’t bring the subject up.” She hugged Luna again, reassuringly.

Numeric Essence ruffled her still-unflightworthy wings. “Oh. Feelings. I apologize if I have offended.”

“We understand,” said Cadance warmly, her voice throbbing with compassion and comfort.

“And if your theories are correct,” added Celestia, “we will have to get used to it. Please continue.”

“Oh!” said Essence. “About the polarities, yes! Perhaps it is indeed additional evidence supporting my theory of radical personality alteration. I do feel very much that, as I befriend Princess Cadance my opposite pole, I am drawn more into myself: namely, Logic. Reasoning becomes clearer, and it all makes sense as never before! I postulate that alicorn magic may be for the purposes of setting up these polarities, to some undisclosed end. Possibilties include synthesis, or division of labor, or perhaps final battle to the death.”

Luna whinnied in dismay, and Cadance hugged her again. “Steady, Princess. Essie, you’re being upsetting again.”

“Am I? I apologize twice.”

“Never mind outcomes,” said Princess Celestia. “Are you saying you’re becoming more logical by hanging around Cadance? Your… pole is increasing in intensity? May I ask if it works both ways?”

Cadance blinked at Celestia’s inquisitive glance. Then, she blushed scarlet, and furled her wings tightly.

Celestia studied her. “Hmmm.”

Twilight’s gaze was narrowed. “Show me your wings, Cadance.”

Cadance shook her head, but in a moment an angry Sparkle was in her face, demanding, “Show me!”

Dropping her gaze, Cadance unfolded a wing, revealing the missing primary feathers. She glowered resentfully up at Twilight and protested, “All I’m saying is she’s right, it’s affecting me too!”

“If you have my brother doing that…”

“I’m not!” squeaked Cadance. She gulped, and added, “He won’t. I have a guard for it. Shining gives me permission when I’m needy.”

“What the heck is she talking about, Looney?” asked Lyra.

Cadance was breathing hard, and couldn’t stop blushing, but anger gave her a voice. “Trixie must have told Twilight about it. It’s been centuries since I had to resort to it but Essie is right, we’re becoming more intense in ourselves. I can handle it, and it is nobody’s business but mine, Shining’s and our guards and some of the cooks and one of the palace mages and about four earth ponies from Ponyville, Fillydelphia and Appleloosa.” She pouted, then corrected herself. “Okay, so five. Uh… six.”

Lyra’s ears splayed in total confusion. “What?”

“She’s the Alicorn of Sex, Lyra,” said Twilight. “She’s doing erotic primary-feather plucking again. The cast of thousands is her lovers, which includes my brother, and if I had known about this…”

“He is very happy!” insisted Princess Cadance. “I swear I won’t lose control… Miss Sandbags!”

Twilight bridled at the remark, but Lyra blinked and looked awed. “Wow. Um… Luna, did you ever play that rough?”

Luna shook her head. “Didn’t need to.” She smiled at her consort. “Not when I have you.”

As Lyra and Luna nuzzled noses for a moment, Twilight stamped her hoof again. “Can we get back to business here? I want to know more about the polarities, because Princess Celestia is Order and if she’s opposites to Chaos, and if we have to destroy Chaos…”

“No!” cried Celestia, and all heads turned. She gulped, and repeated, “No. We do not destroy. We will learn, and adapt.”

“You are sweeping dust into a dustpan with your horn,” observed Essence, “though the floor is already clean. Does this mean that you are being overcome by Order, yourself?”

“I have been an alicorn of order for a very long time,” said Princess Celestia. “I have also spent time with Chaos, been in conflict with her, resolved things with her and sought peace, and have now seen further conflict. Even if this is causing me to be intensified, I believe I can manage my nature, thank you.” She gulped. “If your theories are correct, she may herself be overcome by her essential nature. Could this have motivated her… actions?”

“Discord is going to go out of control and go totally crazy with Chaos!” insisted Twilight. “I’m telling you, we’re going to have to turn him to stone again, as sure as my nature is Leadership!”

Numeric Essence blinked, and you could almost see cool dials turning behind her eyes as that precise brain calculated. “I am not sure your nature is Leadership, Twilight Sparkle. I don’t think that’s a polarity, and I still have a feeling you are the opposite pole to Princess Luna. Your claim would imply she is un-leadership, and her motivations are so profoundly nurturing of others that Service seems more apropos. Luna spends more hours a night caring for pony dreams than Celestia spends raising the sun in a week, and she has recognized herself in Service. Her actions are not strictly directed by another, but all the same they are in a spirit of serving others. I suppose that would make you… Self-Will?”

“Good!” said Twilight. “Because somepony’s got to come up with the willpower to deal with Discord once and for all! Except that I’m totally Leadership, so you need to listen to me. If not now, then in the long run, okay?”

Essence shook her head. “No no, Princess Luna is not bereft of willpower. I’ve never heard of such a thing as an Alicorn of Self-Will, but it would follow that self-will is the imposition of your own wishes upon the universe without consideration…”

Twilight ignored her. “The next question would be, is Discord hurting you with this polarity stuff, Princess? I mean, does the orderliness hurt, is it making you be out of control with tidying or whatever?”

Celestia studied her once-student. Twilight looked really stressed out, but her concern was so obvious: the lavender alicorn seemed frantic with worry her Princess would be harmed. Celestia’s heart melted. “Oh, Twilight. I’ll be all right, I promise. If it makes you happy, I will stick to my decision to exclude Chaos from our company, and we will continue to learn about alicorn nature. We’ll study it. Won’t that be nice? Maybe it will help us.”

“Maybe we’ll learn what we need to learn, to control Discord forever!” suggested Twilight, and Celestia winced.

“No, Twilight!” she said. “I cannot believe that is necessary. If this talk of polarities means anything, it is that we must make peace with our extremes, else all is strife and turmoil forever. And that is the true meaning of Discord, not some unhappy and provocative draconequus.” She studied truculent Twilight. “I’ll fight alongside you if it comes to that. I promise. Injustice and unhappiness will not stand against us—but for now, we won’t act hastily.”

Twilight was speechless, staring at nothing, but not in anger this time. The words “I’ll fight alongside you. Injustice and unhappiness will not stand against us” echoed in her fevered brain, and she panted, an odd smile coming to her face and her wings lifting.

Cadance, watching, gave a wry halfsmile and said “That helped her accept it, I think. Oh, Twilight.” She shook her head, knowingly.

Celestia turned to Numeric Essence. “So, our operating hypothesis is that alicorn magic forms polarities, and there may be untold benefits to bringing harmony to the poles? You are feeling like a better pony when befriending Princess Cadance?”

Essence nodded, which brought a warmer smile to Cadance’s face, and said “It is a fascinating study. Postulate the existence of an Alicorn of Good. If this is so, then befriending an Alicorn of Evil might be a benefit to magic as a whole—or perhaps just the specific nature of alicorn magic.”

“Alicorn of Evil?” squeaked Twilight and Lyra, together.

“Sombra,” replied Cadance, levelly. For a moment, the alicorn of pleasures looked less sensuous and more grim. “If there was ever a better candidate for that status, I don’t know who it would be.”

“Did he get taken to that alicorn space?” demanded Twilight. “Before me, I mean?”

“We don’t know that all possible poles always go to the same space,” said Essence. “Did this Sombra develop his full powers? I have not, nor have I seen alicorn space.”

“No, he didn’t,” said Cadance, “and he may not have been an alicorn yet. He may have been developing wings under that cloak, and his magic was approaching alicorn grade, but we destroyed him.”

Lyra trembled, and Princess Luna snuggled her reassuringly. “Maybe it’s time for little unicorn ponies to go to bed?”

At the words, Twilight winced. She would not be a little unicorn pony, comforted and put to bed. She would stay up late into the night, facing the monsters, alongside Princess Celestia. “Why would magic want to bring balance to good and evil? It doesn’t make sense!”

Princess Celestia lowered her head. “If I understood that, perhaps I in turn could bring harmony between Order and Chaos…”

“That better not be a tear,” accused Twilight.

“Peace, Twilight,” said Celestia reprovingly, and Princess Twilight Sparkle fell silent.

“I need to put my beloved consort to bed,” said Luna. “But I would also like to emphasize that, whatever the truth of matters, I stand prepared to devote myself to you all, as I devote myself to caring for the dreams of ponies everywhere. I feel Numeric Essence has given me a wonderful gift, bringing the idea of an ‘Alicorn of Service’ to my attention, and I take up that mantle joyously. And whether it is alicorn polarity intensifying me as my counterpart comes into focus, or simply my state of pregnancy shared with my lovely Lyra, I feel true to myself as never before.” She blinked shyly at Twilight. “I wish I could make further amends to your dear Trixie. It was the high-water mark of a certain type of dark devotion, but I no longer feel that expresses the best of me, only the best I could be at the time.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass on the message,” said Twilight, her expression darkening again.


“Mistress?” called Trixie. Twilight had stomped into the library, banging the door.

“She’s not listening!” wailed Twilight. “It’s a really serious problem! How are we supposed to make Ponyville safe for everypony if Princess Celestia is trying to date the worst monster?”

Trixie squeaked, and ran downstairs to be confronted by a trembling Sparkle with stiffly erect wings and wild, desperate eyes.

“Mistress! Um, which monster would that be?”

“Discord!” yelled Twilight, stamping a hoof.

Trixie blinked. “Oh. That one? The colorful monstrosity that you yourself defeated? Really?”

“He’s FUCKING Princess Celestia!” wailed Twilight. “She refuses to send him to the moon even when he does horrible things!”

Trixie laid her ears back in alarm. “Just a minute. Trixie thought that Mistress said, he was really an alicorn. The Discord form doesn’t have a penis without use of a magic bit. We are not supplying him with one. What exactly has he done?”

Twilight gulped, shuddering. “He got this earth pony to have sex with the Princess. Then he revealed her to everypony. He made her cry. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What earth pony?” demanded Trixie.

“Just some earth pony. A retarded earth pony, as if it couldn’t be more awful. Princess Celestia was using his name and everything, just as if he deserved to be treated like a regular person. It’s an earth pony named Crowbar.”

Trixie paled. “Sort of short and burly? And mentally handicapped? Worse than our Derpy Hooves, I mean? Trixie thinks she remembers this pony, from time spent in Fillydelphia. Her old mistress—not that there could ever be another Mistress!—used to take advantage of this pony. Oh, my!”

“You remember him? You had sex with that thing, Trixie?”

“No, no!” protested Trixie. “Trixie did not! Trixie was good when it came to really dangerous punishment, Crowbar was an end game for mares! He did terrible damage!” She quieted, grew thoughtful. “Hmmm…”

“Discord made Celestia have sex with a pony who HURTS ponies?!” wailed Twilight. “It gets worse and worse!”

“Please, Mistress, Trixie is thinking… hmm. Trixie is thinking of your Celestia’s great size. Perhaps Crowbar finally found a use after all. A use beyond causing internal injuries, I mean. Hmm! Good for Celestia. Except it’s wrong somehow? Just a minute, Mistress, which one is Celestia trying to date, Discord or Crowbar? You saw her having sex with Crowbar?”

“She shouldn’t be with EITHER of them!” raged Twilight. “They’re not listening to me, and I’m trying to lead them. That new alicorn, the one that isn’t really an alicorn yet, she won’t even admit I’m the Alicorn of Leadership! She says I’m something else!”

“What?” squeaked Trixie. “If you’re not Leadership, Mistress, then what are you supposed to be?”

Twilight glowered, sullenly. “Self-Will. It’s supposed to be the opposite of Luna, who’s Service. She sure acted like Service when she ponynapped you and raped you and tried to destroy your mind. That was real serve-y.”

“That’s impo…” began Trixie, and trailed off, for self-will was a thing she had great experience with.

She looked worriedly at Twilight, who practically snorted fire out her nostrils with outrage, and remembered things. Luna had kidnapped her, yes, but it was she who’d responded to the Princess’s seduction in an attempt to screw Luna into submission. It had become a dark mind-game, but the most dangerous thing about the mind-game was the truth that underlay it: at the time, Princess Luna had come very close to devoting herself entirely to Trixie’s most masochistic impulses for all of Trixie’s mortal life. There was no allure in simply getting randomly abused, the relationship had to run two ways and it had run terrifyingly deep very quickly. Trixie’d fought like a demon to not simply give in, but she knew in her bones that the dark Princess Luna had fallen in love with her, and proposed to show that love by dominating her little unicorn without mercy and drinking in every scream and grovel like a lifegiving elixir.

Even then, the toughest part of resisting Princess Luna’s sadomasochistic passion was that it was founded on service. She’d have been a phenomenal sub and a Mistress to end all Mistresses, and all of it based on deep emotional needs to serve in myriad ways. It had been horribly difficult to resist being swept up in that powerful need. It’d been Trixie’s greatest challenge not to kneel before the dark Mistress who pledged her eternal, perverted love for as long as Trixie would live.

And Trixie had fought it off, and loved Twilight Sparkle, partly because she understood her so deeply—but that understanding cut uncomfortably close at times, and the part of Twilight that Trixie loved best was the indomitable willpower. Trixie turned to dominants to control her own tendency to self-will, a habit of trampling into situations and demanding her own way regardless of what was really right. She’d learned to mistrust that tendency of herself, and needed a Mistress to keep her in check, lest she run riot. And Twilight was that Mistress, a pony just like her in so many ways, and they balanced out perfectly and kept each other in check and their mutual twistedness turned to joyous health and happiness…

Except, Twilight wasn’t like her anymore, was she? Twilight was unthinkably more powerful, still as prone to self-will as ever, and raging to control the world around her—something Trixie sought never to do, from hard experience.

And Twilight had tasted bitter experience from her own righteous crusades, yet off she charged again…

“Say it,” demanded Twilight, fiercely.

Trixie squeaked, dropping her train of thought. “Eep! Say what, Mistress?”

“Impossible. It’s impossible I’m an alicorn of self-will. They make it sound bad. Your face says it’s bad, which is completely stupid because there’s nothing more important in a pony than willpower and knowing what’s right. I know that, ‘cos I’m Leadership. Say it’s impossible that I’m self-will, since that’s apparently so bad.”

“M…mistr…”

“Say it!” squealed Twilight, savagely.

“Impossible!” wailed Trixie, grovelling on the floor before her Mistress. It was impossible… to resist such ruthless dominance. “It’s impossible! Mistress is a great leader, and Mistress is the Alicorn of Leadership and not at all self-will! Trixie is sorry!”

Twilight glared, shaking. The blue unicorn hardly dared look up at her Mistress, and Twilight could smell the eager ooze of Trixie lubricating like mad, hear the little wet noises of Trixie’s frantic winks. “You know what Mistress is gonna do, Trixie?”

“Mistress can do anything, anything! Trixie is ready to be punished!”

“Stay right there and don’t move, Trixie,” ordered Twilight. “Mistress is gonna blow off some steam.”

She galloped up to the bedroom, and in mere moments she was back, rearing before Trixie with flashing eyes and a magic bit in her teeth. Trixie gawked at the slim but rigidly flared Sparkle-cock that jutted from between Twilight’s legs, and wriggled madly on the floor in a fever of submission.

Then, Twilight was on her, wings still bolt erect, and she prodded her butt up against Twilight’s belly and was rewarded with the plunging entry of Twilight’s ponycock.

“Ahhh!”

The cry could have been from either mare, or perhaps both at once. The achingly stiff stallionhood thrust deep into Trixie’s jellied nethers, and Trixie squealed, writhing. She saw the dull grey of the magic-restrictor ring across the room, the safety factor that she wore on her horn when she topped the increasingly dangerous Twilight, and Trixie’s own little horn lit to reach out and grab the safety gear and settle it on her vulnerable unicornhood…

An irresistible magical force clamped down on the thing, slamming it to the ground and holding it there.

“No,” snarled Twilight Sparkle, her hips steadily thrusting the horsecock inside Trixie.

“Mistress?” squealed Trixie, excited and alarmed. “I should…”

“No!” yelled Twilight, through the bit. She panted a few breaths, her nostrils flaring. “C’me for me. I w’nt to see it again. I miss it so bad. C’me for me. Let me watch.”

Trixie’s heart nearly stopped with terror.

“But… then you wear the restrictor ring, Mistress!” she pleaded.

“No,” said Twilight. “No, ‘m in c’ntrol.”

Trixie’s eyes widened, and her terror doubled.

They’d not done it this way for some time. All their attention had gone toward venting Twilight’s terrible pent-up energies, the raw magical potency of a new alicorn going through adolescence. Twilight had to discharge, and Trixie’s lovemaking had been entirely dedicated to safely doing this. That was the purpose of the magic-restrictor ring, the stacks of sandbags, and of course the staggering case of blue-horn Trixie had developed. Not that her horn wasn’t already blue, but it’d gone a few shades deeper from sheer frustration, and Trixie had picked up some severe headaches from her magic trying to ejaculate through the restrictor ring.

It was all worthwhile, because Twilight loved Trixie and wanted to protect her from harm and Twilight was going through a difficult phase. Her horngasms were demolishing sandbags at a staggering rate and seemed to be getting worse, and both alicorn and unicorn believed that if she accidentally arced with Trixie the results could easily be fatal. Until now, that had been reason enough to play it safe.

Trixie twisted her head and looked back at Twilight, her eyes panicky and vulnerable. Twilight Sparkle stared back, those massive wings held high, and her own gaze was stern and haughty, imperious.

“I c’n h’ld it b’ck,” said Twilight, and her eyes dared Trixie to call her a liar.

Trixie shook her head helplessly, letting out a whimper as she searched that gaze for mercy.

“I t’ld you I’m in c’ntrol,” insisted Twilight. “Come f’r me.”

Trixie shuddered all over, her fate confirmed again. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t even want to play games with dying. Least of all did she want to die when Mistress needed her most… but her feelings were conflicted.

First, it was possible Mistress was telling the truth. If she held off her own horngasm just long enough, there would be no arc between them. It depended entirely on whether Twilight’s fierce willpower was strong enough to hold back her own climax.

Second, Trixie loved Twilight desperately, and if she were to go, such would be her darkest secret wish. Ever since she’d been with Princess Luna and seen Luna’s horngasm cutting through rock, her fantasies had been haunted by alicorn climaxes. Also, there was Lyra to consider, who’d withstood taking that same Luna horngasm and clearly almost died from it, but lived to parade her extensive horn damage before the other unicorns. Twilight’s adolescent orgasms seemed more dangerous in terms of how much material she vaporized each time, but one could not be sure.

Lastly and most treacherously, Trixie was under Twilight, an alicorn cock shoved up her quivering, juicy vagina, and in a posture of extreme submission to her dominant lover—and Trixie responded most strongly to abuse, danger and punishment.

A spanking would have sufficed to get her squirting with alacrity but this was on a completely different level. This was her Mistress daring to obliterate her like a moth in a flame… and only Mistress’s self-control would save her. Twilight Sparkle proposed to dangle her over the void for sport, show her her own death in orgiastic ecstacy, enjoy the light show of her helpless horngasms, and then pull her back to safety again once she had drunk her fill of Trixie’s absolute helplessness.

Trixie had never even imagined Mistress would use her so callously.

Trixie sobbed, and felt her pussy gush with sensuous ooze as her body registered what was happening and charged directly for that brink without a moment’s hesitation.

Twilight smiled, around the bit, and nuzzled Trixie’s neck. Over Trixie’s upthrust rump, she continued to straddle her lover and work that stiffened ponycock within the ever-juicier confines. They fell silent, except for the tender slurping noises of Trixie’s molten nethers around Twilight, and the rattling of Trixie’s shaking hooves against the floor.

Trixie sobbed, again.

“C’me f’r me,” urged Twilight. She gritted her teeth harder on the bit, swelling inside the hysterical unicorn. It wasn’t to make herself harder, though: her willpower was redoubling, for she felt her own horngasm coming on and sternly denied herself that release.

Trixie moaned, writhing under Twilight as the lavender stallionhood patiently churned her in slow, slow motion. She was crying and shaking her head, and Twilight knew she hadn’t given in completely. Some part of her was fighting it, though she wasn’t safewording or even telling Twilight to stop. She’d admitted once that she liked getting so upset she couldn’t remember her own safeword. It looked like one of those times, thought Twilight.

Trixie began heaving in deep, panicky breaths. Her eyes went wide, and Twilight craned her neck to be able to see them. Those arrogant, wilful eyes, that could go so unexpectedly vulnerable. That fierce independent mind, reduced to such quivering surrender. And that horn, that beautiful blue horn, insulted again and again by the horrible restrictor ring, there right before her and about to erupt intoxicatingly into unicorn orgasm, the most beautiful thing ever…

Trixie reeled, her heart pounding, feeling her arousal surge at her like a tidal wave. Twilight’s hips kept on thrusting, exploring, and it seemed really true that her love was about to risk everything, risk her as if she didn’t even matter, just using her for some heartless pleasure, and Trixie struggled with all her strength to hold off and not open that deadly channel and not come no matter how much the situation turned her on… no matter what Twilight did.

Twilight’s teeth ground against the bit, a chalky creaking sound, and Trixie felt Twilight come inside her, that rigidly flared ponycock spurting ponycome deep into her privatest places. Twilight made a faint croaking noise, still not releasing horngasm, and as her teeth gritted against the bit she kept right on moving, not even changing her pace even as the juicy Trixie vagina she occupied became a snugly churning pit of come and sensual fluids that got squelchier with every spurt.

Trixie wailed despairingly. Twilight kept going, her brain aching with the effort of holding back the rest of her release, and she stared utterly and only at the blue horn right in front of her, so exposed, crackling with magic-flicker.

“GHHH!”

Before Twilight’s eyes, Trixie Lulamoon was dragged off the cliff to flail over the abyss. Still locked in her lover’s embrace, her eyes settled upon the infinite with a stricken, doomed look, and Trixie came as hard as she’d ever come in her life. A thick, scintillating gush of magic burst from her horn, and arced across the room, to splash over the sandbags.

“Aiigghhh!”

Trixie’s voice was a cry of surrender. Her body shook in Twilight’s forelegs as her horn pumped out spurt after spurt of delicious, radiant magic, opening herself utterly to her mate’s fertilizing and destroying horngasm—and still, Twilight gritted her teeth and hung on, refusing herself release, drinking in the beautiful sight. It had been so long since she’d watched Trixie come like a unicorn. Their differing bodies had deprived them of that pleasure.

“Nnnnhhhhgghhh!”

Trixie’s eyes were drowning in tears. She shuddered like earthquakes were flooding her, not just the false cock of an alicorn Princess. Her voice faltered, and she stared at nothing, arching her neck as if in agony, waiting for her doom to strike, as her horn pumped out still more magic, to the point of exhaustion. She could not stop coming now that she’d started, and every second spelled out her immediate death. Death danced, laughing, around her: every moment was her last, as she shook and gushed horngasms.

Twilight ground her teeth on the bit, and began to buck with her hips, aggressive fierce lunges that churned Trixie’s insides brutally.

Trixie screwed her eyes shut and gave one last despairing shriek with what felt like her last breath, and one last gout of magic spurted from her horn. It arced high in the air, and landed on the sandbags, splashing off them in all directions.

The pretty blue horn, still feverishly hot, stopped ejaculating. The aura ebbed away, with a last flicker of magic energy.

A moment passed, no more than a few pounding heartbeats.

Twilight Sparkle lowered her head, and unleashed an inferno of searing magic inches from Trixie’s exposed horn, directly across the room and through the pile of sandbags and the wall beyond. The sandbags exploded. The wall gave way, and caught fire.

Trixie Lulamoon fainted, still very much alive.

“Wha…” came a little voice from downstairs. “Twilight? Twilight!”

Twilight released the bit, and staggered a few steps away from her wrecked, collapsed Trixie. “Worth it,” she croaked, her eyes crossing. Her head felt like it was splitting from the withholding and sudden release of so much energy.

Spike came running upstairs. “Holy cats, Twilight!”

“I knew I could do it,” said Twilight, and coughed.

“The wall!” yelled Spike. “The wall’s on fire, there’s a big hole! This is too much even for you!”

“My bad,” muttered Twilight. “Just a moment…”

Downstairs, a tap turned on. Spike fell silent, watching the hole in the wall smolder, as a large bowl of water floated effortlessly up the stairs under Twilight’s telekinetic will. She flung the water at the wall, and the fire hissed and went out, and the water splashed all over everything, including Spike and the stunned and supine Trixie, who stirred, making a feeble noise like a waking kitten.

“There,” said Twilight.

Spike set his jaw. “Twilight, we gotta talk. I am the last dragon to get in the way of you ponies around here, but…”

“No,” said Twilight, “not right now. Okay, buddy? Give us some space.”

Spike couldn’t stop looking at Trixie’s eyes. She was clearly a mess, and he didn’t want to look too closely at her hindquarters because it was obvious that end was even messier, but her eyes were drenched with tears and that seemed like it couldn’t be right.

“I dunno, Twilight, you’re making me very worried…”

“No, you listen,” said Twilight. “It’s a bad and dangerous world, but if I still have my number one assistant, and the most beautiful unicorn in all Equestria for my marefriend, and if I have my self and my total control of myself… I can do ANYTHING, Spike.”

Her voice grew soft. “I can do… anything.” She seemed to be looking outside the room as she said it.

Spike stared at Twilight, lost for words. He turned to Trixie, and did no better. He’d long since given up trying to understand why Trixie reacted the way she did. Her tears were not a complete novelty to him, nor even the sight of welts and scars on her body. He’d seen her sprawled on the floor like jelly, oozing goo, and he’d never had to clean that stuff up, either: that was her job.

He’d seen Trixie directing looks of love at Twilight, too. He’d seen her with just that sort of grovelling, helpless adoration, many times.

He’d never seen it combined with so much fear, though.

“I love you, Trixie,” said Twilight, and Trixie’s lip quivered. The haunted look didn’t leave her eyes, even as Twilight walked over and snuggled up against her.

Spike glanced at the hole in the wall. Twilight ignored it.

Spike walked back downstairs, got back in his basket, and pulled the blanket over his head again.

One blanket wasn’t nearly enough.