“She can’t keep doing this,” Anon breathed, hanging and burying his face in his hands.
“Doing what?” Celestia chirped, seeing herself in and seating herself opposite from him.
He wasn’t shocked she’d nonchalantly decided to join him, nor was he bothered by how she’d overheard his bemoaned mutterings, yet he was somewhat perturbed and a small bit vindicated by her appearing - not because he wasn’t used to seeing her morning, noon, and night, but because of where he was and what he was doing. Pulling the towel over his shoulder and down to his groin, he made a concerted effort not to look over at her. As she contentedly sighed and shifted in place, making herself comfortable, his nerves got the better of him.
Keeping his eyes on the wooden floor under his feet, he cleared his throat. “I mean this,” he groaned.
Doubtlessly seeing him wave a hand in her direction, she remained motionless. “I…I don’t believe I follow…”
He lifted his head and glanced over at her for a fleeting second, just long enough to confirm his suspicions, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “That…”
Resting with her legs parted and arms resting on the back of the bench beneath her, Celestia sat in all her resplendent, utterly shameless magnificence. Like being gradually dosed with a heady venom over time, the sight of her bare, curvaceous glory didn’t strike him like it once had - nevertheless, the temptation to stare at her heaving bosoms, juicy flanks, or the plump promised land that lay between her thighs still lingered. Allowing himself to look at her foot and nothing else, he knit his brow.
She crossed her legs as she reached over to one side. “I hardly think being naked in a sauna is inappropriate.”
“It’s not,” he conceded, “but that display of yours in front of the Canterlot castle and the show you put on in Fillydelphia was.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she gave a small, recalcitrant harrumph. “It’s hardly my fault that standard attire can’t contain me.”
He lifted his head and gave a breath of relief as he saw that she’d inadvertently covered her naughtiest bits. While he hadn’t known her for the entirety of her preternaturally long life, he’d been her assistant for long enough to know that her modesty was a fickle thing. While she never seemed to intentionally flaunt her godly assets, he’d witnessed bend or move in just the right or wrong way at public events to give somepony she’d been chatting a view of her panties, bra, or mountainous cleavage - worse still, on at least one occasion he could recall when she’d held the throne, an entire tit had freed itself from her dress during a dance. She was a riddle wrapped in an enigma within a body that was the pinnacle of maternal beauty, even if she’d never had an heir, and it was baffling to think she wasn’t aware of just how damn provocative she could be.
“You do know how much of a - uh…” he faltered as he fought to find the right word, “distraction you can be ~ don’t you?”
“Like standing out in a crowd?” she quipped.
He nodded and gave a mute prayer that he could tactfully broach the subject. “Amongst other things.”
Dealing with her could be frustrating at times, although her blitheness allowed him to speak relatively candidly with her. For all intents and purposes, she was a goddess, ageless and with little or nothing to fear in the world, so she rarely took anything too seriously - that said, those around her weren’t in the same boat as she was. The incidents at the hotel, construction site, and the diner had been bad enough, putting ponies’ lives at risk, yet the mishaps at the Wonderbolt performance and with the Royal Guard displayed another element of what made her dangerous.
“Do you ever wonder why stallions flock to you?” he softly inquired.
She lifted hand, rubbed her chin, and thoughtlessly let one of her breasts spill out from under her arm. “To be honest, I’d never given it much thought. Perhaps stallions in this day and age prefer taller mares?”
“That may be part of it,” he noted, doing his damnedest to avoid looking at the udder-like bosom that was just out of arm’s reach. “Don’t you think there’s something else that might have guys fawning over you?”
Peering down at her rack, she coolly cupped and hefted one tremendous bosom in each hand. “These?”
“Along with the rest of you,” he responded as impassively as he could. “Like it or not, you’re what a great, great many would consider attractive.”
“You jest,” she countered, releasing her chest. “While I’m sure there are some who would consider my figure enticing, I’m certain those are the fringe minority.”
He steepled his fingers as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “What makes you say that?”
“For starters, I’m hardly in the best shape -” she explained, going so far as to lower a hand to squeeze the ample meat of her hip, “secondly, nopony would want to be with a mare as old as I am.”
Momentarily wrestling with his subconscious, beset by the notion of just how soft and doughy various portions of her were, he reined in unscrupulous urges. “I’d bet you every bit I have that you’re wrong on that. My point is that, from now on, you should be really, really careful about what you’re showing ~ what?”
She quietly laughed and demurely held a hand to her muzzle as her bust jiggled softly on her chest. “That’s preposterous and you know it. The only reason anypony would pay me any mind in that regard is because I am - rather I was a Princess.”
“So you don’t think that ponies find you appealing?” he flatly asked.
Shaking her head, she met his gaze. “I don’t think so - I know so.”
The conviction of her statement was as ridiculous as her claim. She may have been a bit of a featherbrain, but she had to have noticed how ponies, in particular stallions, acted around her ~ right? As he dwelled on how to delicately convince her that she was dead wrong about her captivating she was, she extended a leg and ran her toes up his outer thigh.
“Unless…” she purred.
Looking from her foot to her face, Anon stiffened when he saw her heavily-lidded eyes. “U…unless…?”
She bent forward and brought herself closer to him. “Unless this supposed somepony who’s fond of my looks isn’t a pony at all…”
Her breasts hung heavily between her thighs, he was situated at the perfect angle to see her exposed nethers, and her honeyed words dripped of sinfully mischievous intent, but it was her expression that sent his mind into a tailspin. In another life or another place, were they not so different, he would have made a pass to date her from the moment they’d crossed paths - alas, he couldn’t just hit on a royal, nigh-omnipotent alicorn. Losing himself in her eyes, he only shook from his stupor when her toes ran down his leg, around his knee, and drifted up to his loins.
“Oooooooooooooookay,” he apprehensively laughed as he bolted to his feet and made for the exit. “Since you’re not taking this seriously, I guess I’ll…”
He froze at the threshold as a pair of hands gently slipped over his shoulders. For somepony as big as she was, Celestia was staggeringly fast - so fast that it hadn’t registered that she’d stood and closed the gap between them. Too scared to move, wrought with panic and the desires he’d been struggling to suppress, he gulped as a pair of huge, heavy, warm somethings sandwiched his head.
“Who said I wasn’t serious?” she whispered.
Her tone sent a thrilled shiver up his spine. Shakily tilting his head back and gazing upward, he found her smiling down at him. She had him right where she wanted him, held to her chest without a care in the world, yet her smug little grin offered him little comfort. What in the world was she doing? Was this really happening or had he drifted off while enjoying his steam bath? Did she not care that he was effectively wedged in her cleavage? A thousand questions danced through his brain, but there was a specific one that troubled him ~ had she noticed the effect she was having on him?
Tightening the grip on his towel, he kept his shame and pride as concealed as he could manage. Simply looking at her in the buff stirred things within him, playing to his masculine needs, yet feeling her and smelling her only magnified his growing plight - and he did mean growing plight. The last thing he needed was for her to see just how excited he was getting from the intimate contact, so he did the only reasonable thing he could think to do.
Flying in the face of every instinct he had, he wriggled free, grabbed the doorknob, and grimaced over his shoulder at her. “That’s not funny.”
She tittered and dismissively batted a wing. “It’s a little funny, but I digress. Would you like me to prove my point?”
“About how stallions supposedly don’t think you’re hot?” he huffed, pulling the door open.
“There’s no supposedly about it,” she mused, quoting the air while cocking her hips. “If you don’t believe me, step outside and give me a moment.”
Narrowing his eyes at her, he didn’t budge. “What are you going to do?”
“You’ll see,” she teased. Shooting him a wink, she waved a hand at him. “Go on - oh, and close the door behind you.”
He had a nagging feeling that no good could come from whatever it was she was planning, but that didn’t stop him from walking into the hallway and closing the door behind himself. As he crossed to the opposite side of the corridor and rested his back against the wall, after tying his towel around his waist, his mind lingered on what had just happened. Celestia was a bit of a prankster, a trait both Luna and the Royal Guard had warned him about shortly after he’d been hired, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t just screwing with him.
From what little he’d gleaned about her, having chatted with the Castle’s staff, her sister, and even Twilight a few times, Celestia wasn’t a dumb mare - oblivious and harmlessly playful at times, sure, but she was far from slow-witted. For a mare of her age to be totally ignorant of how inherently erotic she was, what with her figure, lilting voice, and the graceful way she carried herself, would be nonsensical to say the least. She may have alleged to be naive, but her actions spoke to the contrary.
Looking over to the door, he adjusted his towel. “So is this going to -”
“Guards!” she bellowed from within the sauna, making him flinch.
He shuddered as the sound of multiple teleportations came from both sides of him. The chalet they were in, though appearing innocuous, was a safehouse for good reason. Surrounded by sorcerous wards and lookouts, the comfy little cabin was as much of a bunker as it was a personal resort. Turning his head to the left and right, seeing a half dozen elite guardsponies armed and ready for battle, he found the squad leader and shrugged.
“She’s in there,” he apathetically remarked as he pointed to the door. “Not sure what - Wait!!!”
His warning came a moment too late. With a mighty kick, one of the soldiers burst the door inward and charged into the steam-filled chamber alongside his compatriots. Since there was no actual threat, and because it had only been a minute or two since he’d walked out into the hallway, there was no real reason why Celestia would suddenly and quite vehemently summon her praetorians. The din of clattering armor fell silent, and Celestia came strutting out of the room alone and still completely undressed.
“See?” she haughtily remarked, stepping aside and gesturing to the sauna.
As the air cleared, Anon balked. The floor of the steam room was littered with armored bodies. Each of the guards lay limp and virtually motionless, though that gave little explanation as to what had happened. It wasn’t until he inched forward and got a closer look that he spotted several of the troops, all of which being stallions, were bleeding from the nose or clutching their codpieces.
Turning and peering up at Celestia, he felt his blood run cold. “W…what did you do?”
Flippantly holding a hand to her bosom, Celestia reared back as if stricken. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Then what the hell happened to them?!” he squawked, frantically waving at the groaning, tormented souls writhing on the ground.
“They were so horrified by the sight of me presenting myself in an admittedly unbecoming way that they fainted from disgust,” she pouted, turning and plodding away. “I take no pride in showing off my body, Anon, I hope you know that now…”
Totally speechless, Anon’s attention drifted from her sullen countenance, down her back, and ultimately settled on her rear. The view of her swaying hips and mammoth buns gliding back and forth against one another was mesmerizing, though he couldn’t allow himself to savor the obscene sight. Rushing into the sauna and kneeling by the first guard he reached, he cradled the pony’s head in his hands.
As he looked the poor trooper over, the stallion lifted a trembling hand and placed it on his shoulder. “What happened? What did she -”
“S…spread eagle,” the soldier croaked. “I…I didn’t - Cough - know she could get her ankles behind her head like…”
And just like that, the stallion blacked out. Anon blinked rapidly, checked for a pulse, and exhaled when he realized that the guard simply appeared to be in shock. Joke or not, there was nothing humorous about knocking out one’s elite protectors, yet the sight of the unconscious troops gave him an idea. If Celestia truly cared so little about showing herself off, while somehow assuming she wasn’t as she was, there may be a way to give her a job that could boost her self-image and make them filthy rich in the process.
Pawing at his leg and causing him to turn, a second, slightly more lucid guard winced. “Save yourself…”
Like his companions, the poor bastard was holding the armor over his groin. Anon hated to think how uncomfortable it would be to get worked up while fully geared for battle, especially after seeing the sorry state of the praetorians strewn around him, and he had no intention of finding out. As surveyed the bodies at his feet, his thoughts back to the inspiration he’d been granted by pure happenstance
Pushing himself up, he ran out of the room and after her. “Celestia!”
She slowed at an intersection and glanced back at him. “Don’t tell me I -”
“Car wash,” he exclaimed. “The next job we’re doing is a car wash.”
“Oh Anon,” she lamented, shaking her head and looking down to the floor. “We’ll never make a single bit doing that…”
Patting her arm and accidentally brushing his fingers against her boob, he shied away. “Trust me, it’ll be perfect. I never thought I’d say this, but we gotta find you the sexiest swimsuit available.”
She gave a halfhearted shrug as she lumbered toward her room. “If you say so…”
As she departed, Anon’s confidence wavered. He’s only seen it for a second, so quickly that he couldn’t be sure if he’d imagined it or not, but he could swear she had the faintest trace of a smirk on her muzzle before disappearing around a corner. In that fleeting instant, while he warred with the concept that she was putting on some grand, he couldn’t help but consider that he’d just been played like a fiddle…