E621 princess celestia3/24/2023 ![]() >She wouldn't downsize anon to minuscule scale so she could sit on her treacherously soft throne cushion and do this right in the middle of negotiations or meetings with no pony the wiser save a suffocating, suffering sniffer below. >Celestia wouldn't love nothing more than to pleasantly perfume petite ponies via posterior plumes, precariously placing them on the verge of asphyxiation from a dense mist of once cakes and salads snacked on during the course of her royal affairs. >Anon's hand would come crashing down right after that - slapping into her rear in a stern, loud, "WHAP," - her cheeks rippling under the application of force as anon squeezed his feet in again - causing her to bolt forward. Dwelling there that hand patted at the fur curiously as anon lifted that arm up slowly, "Now. >"Good girl," Anon cooed in a way that made her blush under the muzzle, as anon's hand stroked down along her side and cutiemark. The sudden pressure at her side made her step forward in surprise - a heavy stumble because of the horsehoes. Her allure would deepen as anon's feet slipped into the dangling leather straps against her sides. A snort billowed from her from the exertion as she bucked a moment, instinctively trying to reduce the weight - when smooth human fingers swept through her mane - dissolving her fury like bitter salt solvated by a gentle stream. ![]() >She was helpless when anon mounted her the surprise surge of weight almost made her buckle and fall forward - but she steadied herself shakily. diminishing her speech to so much as a muffled mumbles and suppressed moans. When it was tightened she felt her teeth nearly press together. ![]() The leather felt rough and unyielding along the pristine vanilla fur of her snout. >Celestia most certainly should have stopped anon from slipping on the bridle and muzzle but the best protest she could mount was a moan into anon's fingers as her tongue played over anon's palm. it made it feel like she was trotting through molasses with ever step. The lead lined things clicked into place with an uncomfortable pressure around her hooves and they weighed so much. >She most certainly shouldn't have let him place the heavy pseudo horseshoes over her golden ones. but the hardened leather was a unique feeling on her fur and feathers and she only shivered when anon tightened it - forcing and locking her wings in a stiff forward arc. >She definitely should not have allowed anon to bring the "traditional riding gear" to the castle, but anon's idle remarks about mankind's dominance and domestication of pony analogs perked her interest in the worst sort of ways, >She probably should have stopped anon when the saddle was put on - it felt so tight and confining around her stomach. >Celestia wouldn't regret all the times she swished and swayed her luxurious vanillia rear in the direction of anon as she writhed and bucked in her restraints. ![]() She'd likely only permit anon breaths consisting solely of the air caught beneath her, precious narrow spaces occupied with the musky scent of pony sweat and her lavender throne from long hours of seating. >She would not occasionally lean to the side to inquire anon's opinion regarding a reply hardly waiting for anon to reply before rudely plopping right back down a wriggling smother to work her plump plot over and against. Celestia would not sit on anon's face while reading Twilight's letters or royal documents, hmm-diddle-drumming her hoof on the carpeted floor as she got cozy. ![]()
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