Spitfire/SooT Twilight crossover lewds


                                            A silly crossover between Fire and Sky's Spitfire and Staying Out of Trouble (https://ponepaste.org/1626) Twilight. Not to be taken seriously.


                                            >Funny, Twilight didn't remember going to sleep wearing cuffs

                                            >Especially not with those cuffs restraining her into an all-too-vulnerable splayed out position>And while Anonymous always delighted in bound in some rump-revealing way, he wouldn't be so cruel (or deft) as to do it while she was asleep.

                                            >Besides, this didn't feel like that.

                                            >Anonymous (and Rarity, as her friend traitorous housemate had largely instructed him) tended to restrain her in revealing positions, but...

                                            >As she squirmed, listening to the chains clink, she knew this felt different.

                                            >Vulnerable.

                                            >Since when had Rarity (or Anonymous) used chains, anyway?

                                            >"'non'ous?" she called through the gag painfully wedged between her jaws.

                                            >Ah, so she was gagged too.

                                            >A bit gag, by the feel of it, linked to the bridle painfully cutting into her muzzle.

                                            >Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing she'd had in her muzz-

                                            >Movement, behind her.

                                            >A pony's hooves on the cold, hard floor.

                                            >Twilight's head could not turn in the bridle's unrelenting grasp, but her eyes could roll about to stare, until they ached, at the mare circling her.

                                            >"'rari-"

                                            >It was not Rarity.

                                            >Though what she wore might have been Rarity's design, given that the form-fitting harness did everything leather, steel, and strap could be asked to do for the mare's figure.

                                            >And what a figure.

                                            >Twilight knew her own body was... lusciously proportioned, while Rarity had always prided herself on an elegantly-sculpted form.

                                            >But the room's harsh, sharp lights cast this mare's yellow coat in a chiaroscuro pattern of light and dark, highlighting a body that seemed not so much shaped as carved.

                                            >Yet it was also a body bound in shackles just as Twilight's was; though her bridle was bereft of bit or gag, it was a bridle nonetheless.

                                            >Fiery orange eyes regarded Twilight, sending a prickle of fear down her back and suddenly reminding her of just how vulnerably posed she was.

                                            >But it wasn't until she saw the cutie mark that it clicked in her head who this fierce, predatory creature was.

                                            >"Spi'fire?!" Twilight tried.

                                            >Spitfire's wings shifted sharply, and Twilight gave a cry as something struck a blazing line into her rump.

                                            >When the wings settled again, Twilight realized that the cuff which bound each halfway along their spans had also been fitted with careful tools.

                                            >One held a thin, supple whip - the instrument which had just struck her - while the other held a curious three-clawed hook whose purpose Twilight did not care to speculate on.

                                            >"Miss Spitfire, Ma'am, or Teacher," the golden-coated mare said, her voice low and yet still managing to put a shiver down the length of Twilight's spine. "I am not your Mistress, but I will not be disrespected."

                                            >'What the fuck,' Twilight thought.

                                            >"Wha' d'fu-"

                                            >Another flick of the well-muscled wing, and another trace of lightning across her rump.


                                            >Twilight went still, and Spitfire smiled.

                                            >She had canine teeth, Twilight thought. Almost no mares had those.

                                            >Twilight did not at all like the way Spitfire smiled now.

                                            >That look of nervousness caught in her eyes, and the whip-bearing wing extended again - slipping its implement beneath Twilight's chin to keep her head still.

                                            >"Your Master and Headmare," Spitfire began, "have mentioned to my Master that you have - issues, with self-control. He says you are 'disobedient'."

                                            >Oh, fuck.

                                            >FuckFuckFuckFuck.

                                            >"My Master has agreed to lend me to yours, so I can help with these issues."

                                            >Twilight started to say something, and the whip's tip ever-so-softly tapped the bottom of her chin.

                                            >Twilight stopped saying anything.

                                            >"I want you to understand one thing right from the start, Twilight Sparkle. I do not prefer punishment. I do not like punishment. I use it, but fighting disobedience with punishment solves... symptoms. Not sources."

                                            >Turning aside, Spitfire began to walk again - once more outside of Twilight's vision.

                                            >But still she spoke.

                                            >"What I teach, Twilight Sparkle, is discipline. Punishment only comes after the disobedience; discipline prevents it in the first place. Do you understand?"

                                            >Say yes, Twilight.

                                            >Say yes, and wait until she takes out the gag so you can explain.

                                            >"Ye'h." Then, a moment later, "AAAGH!"

                                            >Another line of white-hot pain on her rump.>This one hurt more than either of the first two, and Twilight was suddenly struck with the awareness that she was in trouble.

                                            >Rarity and Anonymous both had delivered intimately painful lessons on obedience.

                                            >But they were a fashionista and an average human; Spitfire was an athlete.

                                            >How long would she be able to keep up on her poor plot?

                                            >"Ye'h, Mish' Spi'fire!"

                                            >The bit kept it from being a real answer, but despite Twilight's cringe, no fourth stroke came.>"Good. I talked to Rarity already, and she explained that your Master has already taught you some degree of discipline with some parts of your body."

                                            >Something probed beneath her tail, and Twilight froze.

                                            >No, no, no!

                                            >This wasn't sexy, it was scary!

                                            >(Okay, maybe it was kind of sexy in a scary way)

                                            >But not like when she let either Rarity or Anonymous take her!

                                            >Thank Celestia the probing there stopped - but the fear did not go away.

                                            >If this was what Spitfire had been set to do...>When the mare stepped back into Twilight's vision, a pair of capped vials were tucked beneath the pegasus' wing.

                                            >Both were taken out, carefully set on the floor before Twilight.

                                            >"...clearly you need more discipline, though. This will teach you exactly that."

                                            >"Wha's 'at?" Twilight whimpered around the bit.

                                            >"We're going to share a drink," Spitfire replied with a smirk. "I think you've experienced this formula - and its effects - once before?"

                                            >It took Twilight a moment to realize what she meant.


                                            >Only then did the true panic set in.

                                            >The last time, when that doctor had given her that wretched estrus-inducing brew, it had been nothing less than utter torture.

                                            >At least then she was spared continuing torment by Octavia; now, Spitfire's stern ministrations were all she had to look forward to.

                                            >"P'eashe..."

                                            >Yeah, Twilight was definitely not too proud to beg.

                                            >Not before this.

                                            >But Spitfire only firmly shakes her head, then set about strutting back and forth in front of the bound mare - showing off every inch of her firm, lithe form, the buckles of her harness and chains of her shackles jingling with every step taken.

                                            >"What you lack is discipline, and I am going to instill it. Here is how this is going to work, Trainee: We are both going to drink. Every time you whimper, whine, plead, or otherwise show an inability to discipline your body and mind, you will receive one stroke of my lash."

                                            >Already Twilight flinched just in mere anticipation.

                                            >If that was the requirement, her rump is as good as roasted!

                                            >"...an 'oo?"

                                            >"And me, Twilight?" Spitfire grins, showing off her canines again. "I will drink too. And I will show you exactly how a mare with discipline behaves. When you can restrain yourself, then we won't need these... stricter restraints to aid you."

                                            >" mer'y?" Twiligh tried pitifully, eyes wide with pleading horror.

                                            >"Mercy? This isn't cruelty, Twilight. This is self-improvement. This is education. So - bottoms up, Twilight Sparkle."

                                            >The first vial was forced to Twilight's lips, pressed through where the bit cruelly tugged at her flesh.

                                            >She tried to spit and blow the horrid stuff out as it poured onto her tongue, all metallic and bitter-tasting, but Spitfire forced her head back with practiced efficiency and ease until the last drops fell down her throat.

                                            >Only then did Spitfire herself tilt back the second vial, downing it in one swift gulp.

                                            > ...

                                            >Every moment seems to stretch to an hour, every heartbeat to an eternity.

                                            >Celestia taught that anticipation made every breeze into a hurricane, and how to push that aside.

                                            >But Celestia never dealt with this (and Twilight frankly didn't care to think what this horrid brew would do to her).

                                            >She had never had to lay there, shackled tightly in place, wondering if each itch or twinge was the firsts surges of unspeakable heat boiling up from within.

                                            >The only immediate mercy was that Spitfire didn't seem to take Twilight's squirming as a lack of discipline; the whip was mercifully still.

                                            >Even so, Twilight had to wonder, Spitfire couldn't be far behind her in feeling it.

                                            >What was that mare's problem anyway?!

                                            >What kind of madmare actually drink this stuff without-

                                            >"Gah!"

                                            >Somehow, despite her vigilance, the first twinges of need had snuck up on her without warning.

                                            >That horrible, deep incessant need growing from deep within Twilight, filling her marehood with-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >"Eeep!"


                                            >The line of white-hot fire laid into her rump was almost a welcome distraction from the growing need.

                                            >Almost.

                                            >The whip Spitfire was using was far, far worse than any paddle or brush her Master or Mistress had employed; it seemed to lay its fire deeper into Twilight's rump.>Worse, it drew her attention to her hindquarters.

                                            >A whipping across the back, thought Twilight, might almost have been welcome.

                                            >Then she could have had some distraction from the all-consuming itch radiating from between her haunches.

                                            >Already she could feel herself growing damp, growing swollen and prominent back there - her tail was already up, and she didn't even know when she'd-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >"Ahhhh!"

                                            >"No whining," Spitfire sternly snapped, tucking the whip back to her side.

                                            >Had she been whining?

                                            >Already, when the need was still grow-

                                            >Ah, fuck!

                                            >The need!

                                            >Just thinking about it sent a fresh tremor through Twilight.

                                            >Something wet trickled down along her haunches.

                                            >And-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >"No wriggling, Twilight."

                                            >"Oh, co'm on!"

                                            >"No. Wriggling," Spitfire insisted, though at least she did not deliver a third stroke with that terrible whip.

                                            >No wriggling?!

                                            >How was that even possible!

                                            >Every second the need seemed to grow; maybe it was only her memories of Gentlehoof fading, but this feels even more intense than what she'd experienced there.

                                            >Now it felt like a monster tearing its way through her mind, reaving away reason and thought to leave only pure, acidic lust in its wake.

                                            >Celestia above, that need was strong!

                                            >She needed a cock in her now.

                                            >Right now.

                                            >She needed it pounding, pounding until it filled her-

                                            >"Guh-!">Oh, that wink.

                                            >She felt that wink.

                                            >She felt the fresh splatter of wetness running down her haunches.

                                            >And she flinched in anticipation of-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >"Yeep!"

                                            >Another line of white-hot lightning laid into her rump.

                                            >Spitfire certainly wasn't holding back.

                                            >Now-

                                            >Spitfire.

                                            >Focus on Spitfire - that traitorous, sadistic whorse - instead of herself.

                                            >How was Spitfire even bearing it?!

                                            >She had only taken the drug seconds after Twilight, surely she couldn't be that far behind!

                                            >Twilight focused her eyes on Spitfire.

                                            >She seemed so - calm.

                                            >Standing near perfectly still, except for her deep breathing, and maybe a twitch of her ear.

                                            >How?!

                                            >Even her tail was being held perfectly low and proper; was she some kind of freak, a mutant?!

                                            >Maybe Spitfire wouldn't mind helping her out a bit.

                                            >She didn't have the cock Twilight needed, but a tongue would be perfectly good right now.

                                            >And Spitfire probably had plenty of stamina; she could keep Twilight going for hours until-

                                            >"Nnngh!"

                                            >The thought of the well-muscled mare burying her muzzle deep beneath Twilight's tail was just too much.

                                            >Twilight felt herself wink again, and worse felt her hips buck up to meet the imagined tongue.

                                            >SWIP-CRACK, CRACK!

                                            >It might've been a whimper that emerged from her lips, or it might have been a moan.

                                            >The drugged fog filling her brain made it hard to tell.


                                            >The result was the same.

                                            >"Your Master was right. You really don't have any discipline."

                                            >As Spitfire settled back into her passive, waiting stance, Twilight tried to wrench her focus back to her tormentor again.

                                            >This time, the signs were a touch more obvious.

                                            >Spitfire's breathing wasn't just regular, but tightly controlled.

                                            >Her wings were stiff and rigid at her sides.

                                            >Muscles stood out beneath her coat, held tense and powerfully.

                                            >Her lips moved just a hair, whispering something beneath her breath.

                                            >It was still an unthinkable display of willpower, but at least Twilight knew Spitfire was feeling it!

                                            >What would it be like to see Spitfire break?

                                            >To see her squirming, writhing on the floor, desperately pawing at her marehood-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >This time Twilight even managed to brace herself a second before the whip landed.

                                            >Not that it made the experience much better.

                                            >Especially when her thought that Anon's paddle hurt so much less, was promptly followed by another twitch-inducing wink at the thought of Anon seeing her like this.

                                            >Why couldn't he?

                                            >He'd ridden her through natural heats before.

                                            >If he could have joined her, or even him and Rarity both with that monstrous plastic toy of hers, and given her relief after relief-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK, CRACK, SWIP-CRACK!

                                            >"AUUUUGH! Wha' di' I do?!"

                                            >"Your tail is swishing," Spitfire said with a slight grin, "well, actually more like lashing. It's making a mess, you know. You're making a mess."

                                            >FUCK!

                                            >She is breathing hard too, and it's clearly not from exertion - even as another three lashes drew yet another howl from Twilight's lips.

                                            >"You really need to get that tail under control. If there were a stallion back there-"

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >The thought of just being seen like this was enough to get her hips rolling.

                                            >Because any stallion, human or pony, who saw her like this wouldn't hesitate to-

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >Now wetness joined her cheeks as well as her rump, where the first tears dripped from her eyes.

                                            >Spitfire opens her lips to say something.

                                            >Before she can, a barely-perceptible ripple ran from nose to tail down her body.

                                            >For the first time Twilight became aware that the overwhelming musk of her desire wasn't the only scent in the room.

                                            >Aware of the splattered pattern of dampness beneath Spitfire's hips.

                                            >In an instant, Spitfire was back:

                                            >Perfect, composed, ironclad in her self-control.

                                            >But now Twilight could see through the mask.

                                            >She could see the little tremble of her lip, barely revealing a hair of the sharp canine tooth that had seemed so fearsome a moment ago.

                                            >The subtle twitching of her tail, hinting at a barely-held back furious lashing.

                                            >How rigidly and tensely her wings were held at her sides.

                                            >Well, Spitfire wants to test her discipline does she?

                                            >When Twilight felt the next wave of urge rising, this time she didn't bother trying to distract herself.

                                            >She let the furious, ravenous need wash over her, soak into her.


                                            >Her hips rolled as she winked hard, bridle and bit tugging hard (and perhaps a bit desirably) into her flesh, a rich and lusty moan escaping her lips.

                                            >Her desire audibly splattered on the floor as she winked, hocks now thoroughly soaked in her need.

                                            >'Fuck', Twilight thought, 'that was a mistake! I want something inside of me so much it almost hurts-!'

                                            >But the reward was worth it.

                                            >Spitfire grimaced, taking a step forward.

                                            >And then stumbled.

                                            >She gasped a short and shallow breath, her eyes focusing one somewhere far beyond.

                                            >"/Slampa!/" Spitfire swore in muttered Pegasi, "that one was bad."

                                            >Twilight allowed herself a strained grin - but it was a grin that fell apart as Spitfire refocused on her.

                                            >'Uh-oh.'

                                            >"So," Spitfire hissed slowly, "You think you can break me, do you?"

                                            >"Nooooph?" Twilight tried hopefully.

                                            >"You might be able to play that kind of game with that ivory plaything your Master keeps, but not with me."

                                            >SWIP-CRACK

                                            >"Agh!"

                                            >SWIP-CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!

                                            >"I think that little display might be worth about ten; what do you think?"

                                            >Oh, no.

                                            >No, no, no.

                                            >This was really bad, Twilight thought.

                                            >Strokes of the whip landed at a regular drumbeat across her rump, each one seeming to plunge the fiery pain further into her flesh.

                                            >Yet, even so, now that she had let that relentless desire into her head, it wasn't possible to get it out again.

                                            >Every hair of her coat practically itched with need.

                                            >Her marehood was a furnace of heat, and even as the latest lash struck home, Twilight felt herself wink again and moan breathily.

                                            >It seemed another eternity before the whipping ceased; her entire rump felt alight with sizzling lines.

                                            >No doubt it was covered by a spider's web of welts now as well.

                                            >Spitfire circled her again, eyes wild and wide.

                                            >"You know, in some ways, I envy you, Twilight Sparkle."

                                            >"...mguh?"

                                            >"You don't even have to try to hold back. You have it easy. The chains, the harness, the ring on your horn - they all do the work for you."

                                            >That bitch.

                                            >That utter bitch.

                                            >Putting you in this kind of situation and then telling you it was easy!

                                            >"I bet if you were free you'd light that horn and rub yourself senseless right now, huh?"

                                            >"...mmmyeshh.."

                                            >The admission came with a heavy, burning sense of shame - but also realism.

                                            >The burning itch was utterly maddening.

                                            >"I-" Spitfire's haunches shuddered, muscles clenching tight until they stood out once more. "I don't have that luxury. That easy way out."

                                            >"Then... pleash..."

                                            >"Please what, Twilight Sparkle?"

                                            >Twilight surged forward, chains snapping taught as she leaned into the other mare - smelling the husky scent of her own need.

                                            >"Pleash! Hel' meh! Ton'guh! I gif up, 'kay? You're shtron'er, I'm weakuh, jush PU' Y'TONGUH IN'IDE O' ME, I NEED IT I NEED I NEED I NEED-"

                                            -----------------------------------------------------------------------

                                            >Spitfire fell deep into a bow, her muzzle wings spread low to brush the floor.

                                            >"I failed, Master. I completely failed."

                                            "Oh?"


                                            >"She's... completely untrainable."

                                            >Turning her head, Spitfire looked back at the now-limp form of the purple unicorn, slumped in her chains.

                                            >"I could beat her into playing along, but that's not what you asked me to do."

                                            "No. It isn't."

                                            >Spitfire nodded. "You could get obedience out of her, to avoid the pain. But never discipline. Never self-control. I've failed, Master. Whatever punishment you give, I'll accept."

                                            "She got through to you, didn't she?"

                                            >"...yes, Master," Spitfire conceded and seemed to sink even further. "I tried to not let her, but... the two of us, both deep in the heat together..."

                                            "Well, then."

                                            >Two vials, heavy with the thick potion, were set in front of her.

                                            >Spitfire looked up, brows knit.

                                            >"Master?"

                                            "One for each of you again..."

                                            >In the background, Twilight stirred in deep-seated terror.

                                            "...and this time, you'll be eating her out the whole time. So much as think about touching yourself, and it'll be worse."

                                            >Spitfire gasped, the depth of her punishment beginning to sink in.

                                            >"Yes, Master."