[AiE]: Holding Court

>It is around seven am on a saturday morning, you are Princess Twilight Sparkle, and you are busy trying to get settled in to your new home at the palace in Ponyville.
>Trying being the operative word.
“No, Applejack! For the last time, I am not fucking Anon!”
>Okay, that one was a little loud. You close your eyes, take a deep breath in and then sigh it out, following the air with your hoof. Unseen, the books you were levitating softly settle down onto the ground.
>When you open your eyes back up, your five friends – Spike, fortunately, being away at the moment – have gathered round you, concerned looks upon their faces.
“Sorry AJ. It’s just that this is the fifteenth time somepony’s asked me that this week and… I’m getting a little stressed.”
>”That’s alright, dear. We understand,” Rarity answers. The rest of your friends smile encouragingly; you start to feel a little better.
>”Well, of course ponies are asking you, silly. I mean, cutie marks don’t just show up out of nowhere: you’ve got to reaallly work at them first of all, /and/ find the thing you’re super-duper special talented at! And I mean, Anon’s got to have figured out that he was the best at make you feel all awesomely-tingly down low somehow! And I think we all know how~”
>And there goes that.
“It’s not a cutie-mark, Pinkie. It’s a crudely drawn stickfigure of a human standing behind a pony that everypony else only think is me because there’s an arrow pointing at it saying ‘magic-butt’.”
>Bobbing up and down above the rest, Dash crosses her hooves and smirks. “I think he’s doing a bit more than just ‘standing behind’ you, Twi.”
>”I must concur, darling – the words comming out of your lips make the passion shared between the two of you more than evident. ‘Unf. Ugh. Yeah, that's the spot.’”
>Rarity falters a bit and wiggles her hoof in the air. ”So maybe they’re not the most eloquent words ever spoken, but who exactly is compos mentis during intercourse? We don’t blame you for not crying out poetry, Twilight. Like always, it’s the thought that counts.”

>You groan the stress out of you.
“It’s not a cutie mark. It’s a drawing. That’s why the one on his left side looks different to the one on his right. That’s why it’s really literal rather than allegorical. That’s why Anon, who is most definitely not a pony, has got one. Why can’t the rest of you see that?”
>There’s a loud thump beside you that experience tells you comes from Dash landing nearby.
>”Well, yeah, maybe we thought like that originally, but if it was just ink, it would’ve washed out by now, right? And Anon’s been swimming in the lake practically every day since it first appeared. How else do you think I saw it in the first place?”
>”Exactly!” Pinkie’s voice erupts from somehow right beside your ear, followed by Pinkie Pie herself bursting into view. “If it was fake, it would’ve just washed off. This is the real deelio, Twilight. And you’re sooo lucky for it. I mean, the rest of us don’t have both wings and a horn or a magical castle or amazing alicorn powers, and you’ve got all of that /and/ a guy whose special talent in life is giving you great orgasms. To be honest, I’m kinda jelly.”
>”So are we all!” Rarity interjects. There’s a lot of sagely nodding round the group. A part of you snaps.
“Look, girls, really: we haven’t had sex and he is making this all up. I’m not lying to you. Please, please just believe me!”
>Applejack shuffling forwards catches your attention. “Alright then, Twi: even if it don’t make one lick of sense, I believe you. And if you’re really adamant this is all made up, and you hoof on heart ain’t doing this ‘cause you’re embarrassed or somethin’, then I reckon it’s our duty as your friends to help you out.”
>You smile in relief as AJ’s sentiments are echoed round the group. Truly, you can count on your friends for anything.
>”I think that maybe I’ve got an idea of how we could do that.” Fluttershy’s hoof lowers down as everyone in the room turns to look at her. “Well, erm, if having sex with Twilight really isn’t Anon’s cutie mark, then Twilight wouldn’t like having sex with Anon. So all we’d have to do –”

>”Is make them bang!” Rainbow interrupts. “And if Twilight doesn’t like it, we’ve got proof positive he’s making the whole thing up! You’re a genius Fluttershy!”
>You are less impressed:
“I am not having sex with Anon.”
>”I wasn’t finished…” Fluttershy mumbles.
>”You take your time there, Sugarcube. The rest of us’ll be all ready and waiting for you, and we ain’t gonna be interuptin’ again – right Dash?”
>”Yeah, yeah.”
>”It would, um, have to be someplace everypony could see, otherwise a few of them might not believe her and we’d be back to square one again.”
>”What, like we gather up everypony and make ‘em watch?”
”I am not having sex with Anon in front of the entire town.”
>Fluttershy nods. “It would have to be in a public place, though: somewhere where we could fit everypony in. I suppose we could always do it in the main hall of the castle – but only if that’s okay with you, Twilight.”
“I am not having sex with Anon in front of the whole town and spoiling the sanctity of my new home on the same day!”
>The pattern continues: they ignore you, and Pinkie takes over speaking.
>”Nope – that still wouldn’t be enough ponies, Fluttershy. We’d need indisputable proof or else the entire project would be for nothing! Fortunately, I know just the way to make sure nopony’d ever doubt us ever again.”
>”What’s that then, Pinks?”
>”Cameras! We film the show! Rarity’s got a bunch stored back at her shop after one of her fashion shows last year, so all we gotta do is just grab some of those and film the whole thing, then get every cinema in Equestria and beyond to show it! Nopony would doubt us then!”
>Pinkie throws her forearm around your shoulder. “I can see the tagline now: One mare’s hopes of a lover worth loving, and her despair after finding out his professional prowess is only professed. PG 18, not for the faint hearted.”
“I am not having sex with Anon in front of the entire town in my own castle while Pinkie films it and then distributes that film across the entirety of Equestria!”
>”And beyond!”
“Yes, thank you, and beyond!”

>”Well, it’s either that or having to put up with rumours for the rest of you life. What’s it gonna be, Sugarcube?”
“Anything but this! I am not having sex with Anon to prove I didn’t have sex with Anon: that’s patently ridiculous!”
>There’s a few brief moments of silence that lull you into the false belief that you’ve finally escaped from this madness.
>”Y’all reckon she’ll come around?”
>”Yepperoos!”
>”Totally.”
>”Oh, absolutely.”
>”It does seem quite likely, doesn’t it?”
>AJ nods. “Good enough for me. Come on, then: lets go get everything ready while Twilight here comes to terms with the only sensible way out of her predicament.”
>As one, the group turns and thunders out of the room.
“I’m not fucking Anon!” you bellow after them.
>”We know: we did say we believed you, Twi!” one of them bellows back.
>You pause and mentally parse your sentence.
“I’m not... fucking… oh, Celestia damnit!”
>You stomp, blow steam from out your nose and then glare into a corner.
>After a few wasted minutes fuming, you go back to sorting the few books you’d managed to save from the old tree-library – as well as some donated from various libraries over Equestria – into their collective shelves.
>That only manages to calm you until you find out that, already, there’s a book missing from the shelves.
>They say your scream was loud enough to be heard clearly from Canterlot.

>It is later, and the main hall of your castle is slowly filling up with the town’s ponies. Rarity and Applejack are handing out refreshments to one side as Pinkie sets up lights around the room, a beret on her head and a false mustache upon her face.
“Why did I agree to this?”
>You’re standing, for the moment, alone in the middle of the room. All the throne’s except yours have been pushed out of the way to make room for the crowd; you orbit around yours like an uncertain satellite, pausing occasionally to glance longingly at the wide-open door and the freedom that’s beyond it.
>Instead, you see Anon, nude save for his underwear, strolling into the hall. He pauses every so often to flex his buttocks and make the effigy of you and him lovemaking dance. A few ponies hoot approvingly from the crowd.
“Why in Celestia’s name am I doing this?”
>”Duh. It’s so that you can reveal him for a liar in front of all of Equestria. You haven’t forgotten the plan already, have you Twilight?”
>You don’t question how Pinkie managed to suddenly appear beside you: it’s just a thing she does.
“Yes, Pinkie, I remember, but as far as I’m concerned, the cure is worse than the disease. How did I let you talk me into this again?”
>”Oh, that’s easy. We just told you that we’re your friends and we’d never want to hurt you, then something friendship this, something friendship that, and you reluctantly agreed.”
“What? But that’s… it doesn’t… Okay. I can still walk out of this. All I need to do is turn around and tell everypony here–”
>”Hey there, Twi.”
>There’s a faint whoosh as Pinkie disappears. You turn round slowly, and look up into Anon’s face.
>And suddenly, you find a whole new reason to go through with it.
>’Cause the bastard’s grinning at you.
>And there is nothing in the world that you’d like to see more than that smug look of his wiped from off his face.

“Anon.” You nod at him. He folds his arms. Pinkie takes the opportunity to snap a few pics for the posters.
“You know this entire thing’s a sham, Anon,” you mutter, quietly so that the rest of the hall won’t hear. “You and I both know that your ‘cutie mark’ isn’t real. Just admit it, and we can both walk away with some dignity left intact.”
>”Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Anon unfolds his arms and frowns down at you. “You think you’re magic-butt?”
“Well, yes, obviously I am magic-butt! I do magic and… I have a butt. You were clearly referring to me when you scrawled that depraved little picture on your… Wait, are you saying it’s not actually meant to be me?”
>”Well, no. You are magic-butt. I just wanted to hear you admit that before we started.”
>You close your eyes, swallow the scream, and then return the grin to him, imagining the look upon his face as he’s ostracised from Ponyville.
“I am going to have fun after this. You messed with the wrong mare, Anonymous. I’m a princess: I can have you exiled, imprisoned or exiled then imprisoned.”
>The revelation that you could easily throw him in a dungeon at the place you’d banished him to doesn’t seem to disturb Anon that much.
>”Only if you end up not enjoying this, right?”
>Pinkie interrupts any rebuttal you might have had by clacking a huge clapperboard in front of him camera. “All right ponies, people: places please! Let’s get this show on the road! Twilight, if you could stand in front of the throne please… perfect. And Anon, could we have you behind her just like in the cutie mark… super-duper. Okay, we’ll start filming in three people…”
”You think I’m going to enjoy this? Anon, I’m only going through with this so I’ve got legal permission to kick your ass from here down to Tartarus,” you mutter as Anon bends over you. His body feels uncomfortably close.
>”Three!”
>”You’re telling me you didn’t get suspicious at all when I took Alicorn Anatomy from your library?”
>”Two!”

“That was you? I wondered where that book had got to! Uggh. It doesn’t matter – if you think book stealing is going to get you into my good graces, you’re very much mistaken, Mister!”
>”One! And go!”
>Anon’s arms grip round your chest and, without any warning whatsoever, you’re lifted up, wiggling, into the air. The feeling of his chest against your back is weird – the hairless skin soft and unnaturally smooth.
>He thumps down, and you realise the two of you are now sitting on your throne – well, you are sitting on him and he is sitting on your throne. One of his arms stays wrapped around your chest, preventing you from falling forwards and instead making you balance on your butt.
“What the hay do you think you’re doing, Anon?”
>”What, we’ve got an audience, but you don’t want to put on a show?”
>His other hand snakes downwards, fingers tracing curves around your belly. It feels… disturbing.
“No. No, I do not. I don’t particularly want to do this in the first place, but, here we are.” You nod once. “Okay, decided, don’t like this, you’re a liar, I win. Now let me down.”
>”You should really be asking more about the book,” Anon presses, fingers still wandering over your stomach. “I mean, it did contain several chapters worth of information on erogenous zones.“
>And that’s all the warning you get before his mouth finds your neck and his hands swoop down south.
>You recognise each motion detachedly. Each is an imitation of ancient pony mating rituals: lovebites around the neck; soft brushings of the vulva. Each brings a prickly, warm and above all else surprising feeling to it.
>It is not, however, enough to work.
“What, and you think that’ll be enough? Anon, please – so maybe you know a few things about how to satisfy a mare sexually. But, scientific studies have shown that arousal is nine-tenths mental stimulus, and I’m going to remain stubbornly un-stimulated throughout. You’re going to be shown as the fraud you are in front of everypony.”

>Bewilderingly, he chuckles in response to this.
>”Well, that’s what the book I found in that box you kept under your bed is for.”
>It’s like cold lightning just fled down your spine.
>”What was it called again? Daring Do: Slave of Ahuizotal?”
>You gulp, and your throat seems smaller, thinner. You find your balance failing, that you’re tipping back into him: your hips want to shift, recapture your stability, but you know that any movement on your part will be caught on film and used against you.
“I… I thought that was lost in the fire…”
>Hot breath flows across your ear, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of just how close he is. “Nope. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t exactly something worth saving. Your little piece of fetish porn falls short of the real thing, Slave.”
>Your breathing rate rises as, in the face of this new information, you forget to counteract the feeling of his fingers down below and the soft nibbling of your neck.
“Chapter four…” you whisper. “Ahuizotal leads the captured Princess Stardancer out onto her balcony at the palace and… before her whole kingdom...”
>”Your favourite passage,” he murmurs back. “I could tell by the splash marks.”
>You realise, with a mixture of amazement and horror, that this entire thing’s been set up. That you’ve been essentially outsmarted at every turn, played entirely into his plans, and the fact that realising just how easily he’s manipulated you is turning you on isn’t exactly helping.
>His hand moves slightly up, two fingers still caressing your lower lips while a thumb begins to tease a nipple round and round. Your hind-legs buck helplessly at the sensation. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, concentrating all of yourself on fighting the urge to give in.
>Pain shoots through your head as he clamps onto a nipple.
>”Keep your eyes open, Slave. I want your subjects to see the moment you stop struggling.”
>Slowly, knowing you don’t have much choice, your eyelids flutter open.

>”Look at them.” You find your eyes moving as he asked, till you’re looking out half-lidded at the crowd. “The entirety of Ponyville out to watch me defile their newest Princess.”
>His fingers grip again around your nipple, teasing while his hand lays coiled around the rest. “And not one of them is going to stop me from claiming you, Slave.”
>Your eyes find Big Mac, a bored expression on his face and a haystalk twirling in his mouth. Your mind’s eye repaints him as furious, all barely restrained anger and disgust. You moan quietly, the sound slipping past every one of your defences to whine out of your mouth.
>”The beautiful Twilight Sparkle, most promising pony of her generation and chosen scion of Celestia herself, allowed to become the fuckslut of a male from another world. Her body given over to his whims and pleasures. All that potential… lost.”
>You bite your lip and whimper. You’re not sure what’s worse: that your fantasy is being paraded out in the open for all to see, or that you are, apparently, really okay with this.
>”None of them will stop me.” His voice is low; it seems to echo in your head. “I can do whatever I want to you, Slave, and the best part is, you’ll enjoy every single moment of it.”
>He moves to the side, letting you head fall back to his shoulder. He kisses you, lips mashed and tongue churning in a swell of sensation, and you haven’t the strength to push him off – you’ve barely the strength to stop yourself from encouraging him onwards.
>His fingers find you winking and start playing with your clitoris, stroking and hindering it outside before letting it vanish back in. Your wings twitch against his back, and you press yourself that little bit more into the kiss.
>He seems to take that as a sign: his arms abandon their positions, apparently now content that you’re going to stay in place. There’s an odd moment where you can feel him rummaging behind your butt, and then his hands are on your thighs, and you’re being lifted into the air.

>The kiss breaks, and you settle down higher on his chest. Something presses between your pussy lips, worming them open. You look down.
>The position’s perfect: your back and his chest pressed close together to give a rubbing sensation all the way in, with the centre of action clear enough for everypony to get a good look at your violation.
>You’re about to be penetrated; you’re about to lose.
>And somehow, through the fog of lust, you no longer care.
>”Ready, Slave?”
>The word evokes a weird rush of happiness in your head: you’re his and you hate him. You want to hurt him; you want to fuck him.
“Yes, Master.”
>The tension on his arms releases; you fall, and then he’s in.
>Something between a moan and a scream fires out of you, leaving behind a smile on your face that refuses to go away. His arms steady you as you fall onto him, dick sculpting out an agonisingly sensitive passage in your insides.
>”That’s it there, sonny boy!” Granny Smith bellows out from the crowd. “You show that high-falutin Canterlot Princess how we handle mares down in Ponyville!”
>Applejack swivels round to face her.
>”Granny, that’s Twilight up there! She’s lived in Ponyville for years!”
>”Nah, AJ, that ain’t Twilight. Twilight’s that nice unicorn mare who lives in the library; that un up there’s an alicorn. I ain’t so old, child, that I can’t tell a unicorn from an alicorn when I see one.”
>”Granny, I… Y’know what? Never mind.”
>Meanwhile, your head’s a mess of overwhelming bodily sensations: the feel of him deep inside you, the press and rub of your two bodies together, the shame of public sex mixed with the pleasure of open domination.
>It’s too much: release comes quickly. Fluids drip from out your pussy and the feel of his dick inside you strengthens as your muscles convulse around it.
>He holds you in place, dick deep within and body hilted, arms stroking you and calming your quivering muscles.
“We’re not done yet, Slave.”

>You don’t know how long it is he fucks you for, but it feels like lifetimes.
>Each movement feels pre-planned: each slamming motion an announcement of his dominance over you, and each moan an answering plea of your submission.
>It’s possible that you were overdoing that, but hells, this is your fetish, and if you have to live with the shame of it being public, you were sure as hay going to make sure you enjoyed it.
>And by the time he finally released inside you, you were too tired to anything else but collapse onto him.
>The reverse was not true: he had enough energy left to flip you over so that your stomach was level with his.
>”Enjoy yourself there, Twilight?”
>With the vanishing of your title comes the return of your irritation, exacerbated now by the fact that everypony’s going to believe the two of you did have sex.
>Which, well, you may have done, but that’s not the point.
>You find enough energy to push off from Anon’s chest and glare him in the eyes.
“Humans don’t get cutie marks,” you tell him.
>”Nah. I drew it on with permanent marker.”
>You swallow the spit out of your mouth.
“Why?”
>”I wanted to help you live out your greatest fantasy for your birthday.”
“It’s not my birthday for three weeks.”
>Anon briefly considers the ceiling. “Consider it an early present?”
>You chuckle, mouth held open.
“You... are an asshole.”
>You collapse back against him, head falling beneath his chin.
>From a distance, this might look like post-coital cuddling.
>That is most certainly not what is going on, however.
“You do know that I’m going to have to kill you after this, right?”

>”Yeah, you’re not going to do that.” He pats you on the rump. “We’ve bonded here, Twi. There’s no escaping the connection we’ve made.”
>Well that’s obviously not true.
>You imagine yourself bursting down his door, horn glowing with a spell charged and waiting for release.
>You imagine your surprise at seeing him naked inside; how you stumble, lose concentration and the spell.
>You imagine struggling in his grip: the feel of those toned arms around your chest again, the powerful weight of him bearing down on you.
>You imagine the feel of him petting you, stroking you, kissing you.
>You imagine the relief of your submission, then the bliss as he rewards your... surrender...
>...
“Celestia damnit!”