It’s a myth that a knight in armor is helpless when knocked off his horse. You know that perfectly well, since you’ve been a knight for several years now. But at the moment you’re experiencing what it would feel like if the myth were true, for your armor seems to weigh as much as a mountain, every piece of it from helm to gauntlets pinning you flat on your back to the forest floor, at the mercy of a small, bright purple creature that vaguely resembles a horse, if horses had huge, horned heads and eyes the size of dinner plates.

It’s been a strange day overall, though the strangeness started small. There had been an odd feeling as you left your camp this morning, as if the world had trembled around you. You had looked back, and been unable to see the camp, even though you hadn’t traveled that far. But the forest was thick and wild, and you hadn’t thought much of it.

But the very colors of the trees had seemed wrong after that, too bright, too green. The birdsong had been different. The sky above had seemed too blue. You’d gone on, though, persevering. You were seeking the Black Knight, and strangeness was to be expected in such a quest.

Instead, you’d found your horse suddenly staggering, and yourself quaking in the saddle, your armor so heavy you could barely hold your head up in your helmet. You’d thought it an attack of the Black Knight, but what could you do? The struggling horse had lurched sideways, throwing you from the saddle, and you’d fallen like a boulder, slamming to the ground.

The impossible weight of your armor now kept you pinned, the metal that had once protected you turned into a weakness, gauntlets holding every finger helpless, sabatons pinning your feet, helmet holding your head immobile, the world only visible as a slit of blue sky crossed with green branches above.

“A hairless ape in armor. How fascinating.” The voice was feminine, but no matter how you squirmed and struggled within your protective covering, you couldn’t see the speaker. There was a faint sound of footfalls, something strange about them, something not what you expected, but you couldn’t put a finger on it, and then the sound of a deep inhale, and the voice added, “And smelling like a stallion in rut.”

You felt your cheeks growing red, though the voice was right. Armor tends to hold a scent, and you’d spent some time this morning having certain thoughts about the Lady Guinevere. Everyone in Arthur’s court did. She was a legendary beauty, and though she seemed loyal to the king, how could one not fantasize about her? Especially a young knight, as yet unmarried and virginal? The feminine voice you heard may well belong to some monster, yet it reminds you of her, just a little.

“Very fascinating indeed,” said the voice, in a soft, distracted murmur, and suddenly you felt a tugging about your waist. To your shock you then saw your fauld, the armor protecting the area around your hips, floating up and over you, held in a pinkish glow. Magic, it must be! The jointed metal plates were tossed to the forest floor with a careless crash and then, oh sweet merciful Lord above, your codpiece was sent sailing after them. Your greaves stayed on, keeping your legs pinned down, but further tugging heralded the unlacing of your trews, and you felt a cool breeze over your nethers. Your cock was not erect, but a warm, damp breath exhaled against it, caused it to twitch. The stranger, whoever—or whatever—she was must have had her mouth right beside it.

You braced yourself, mind churning, not sure if you were eagerly trembling for an erotic touch or fearfully braced for a painful bite. What came was definitely the former, yet nothing like you expected, for the touch was…fuzzy? It was velvety, like the nose of a lady’s palfrey, soft and warm and firm against your as-yet flaccid member. It was strange, alien, bizarre, and wonderful. Your cock gave another twitch and began to flush with desire, rising of its own accord.

“Not bad,” murmured the voice, and then its owner shifted, moving above you. At that moment you finally saw what manner of being had so inappropriately—and yet so wonderfully—touched you, and your thoughts about a palfrey proved strangely accurate, for it—she?—was indeed an equine, though a surpassingly strange one. Not only was she purple, but she bore both a horn—was she a unicorn, then?—and a pair of wings like Pegasus of myth. She was nothing you’d ever heard of in all your years listening to the tales of storytellers and the songs of bards.

Now she looms over you, grinning broadly, and your mind spins in confusion.

“Wh-what are you doing?,” you stammer out. “Who are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m Twilight Sparkle. Sort of. Doesn’t matter.” The purple creature is grinning, and something about that grin is even less like the Lady you’ve pined after than the creature’s inhuman nature, for it has a streak of sadism that fair Guinevere could never entertain. “As for what’s going on, I’m bored out of my mind waiting for my good twin to turn up, so I thought I’d…entertain myself, meanwhile. I was just going to mess with you, but sweet stars above, you smell amazing.”

“Uhm…” You try to summon a protest, but you can’t even form the words as this “Twilight Sparkle” ducks down again to nuzzle at your swiftly hardening cock. You know you should be saying “No.” You know you should be telling her that you’re not into small equines. You know you should be doing a lot of things, but your body has different ideas from your brain.

“I won’t hurt you. Much,” says Twilight.

Your cheeks are surely scarlet, but at least Twilight can’t see them anymore, for her head is down around the area of your hips, and she’s examining your cock with blatant curiosity. “You don’t look much like a stallion, but you do look rather delicious,” she murmurs softly, as if solely to herself. You feel a strange mix of feelings, and the fear you’d felt earlier surges again. Does she mean to literally eat it? If she’s an equine, surely she’s an herbivore? But she’s like no horse you’ve ever known, so perhaps she does eat meat. Perhaps human cock is on the menu. Yet the tone reminds you of words you’ve heard from human women, though never directed at you personally. Confused desire flickers in you. You’re not into horses, but that tone… And frankly, given your virginal nature, you’ve sometimes thought that you’d take whatever you might get.

That thought brings guilt with it. You’re supposed to be a knight, full of virtue. Wanting to fuck anything female that offers is hardly virtuous.

Then again, you’re still pinned by your impossibly heavy armor, so it’s not like you have many options here.

Then a hot tongue licks up the length of your cock, from root to tip, driving all other thoughts from your mind. You bite back an involuntary moan, but can’t entirely succeed in keeping silent.

Twilight makes a little pleased humming sound and licks again. Her tongue is broad and slow and sensuous. You give in to it. Pinned within the supposedly protective shell of your armor you can’t do anything but. Your eyes slide shut—it’s not as if you can see anything but a bit of sky and a few tree branches anyway—and you stop fretting about the inhuman nature of this Twilight. All you know is the hot slickness of her tongue as it explores every inch of your now rock-hard cock.

Then the sensation vanishes, and you can see Twilight’s face again as she lifts her head. “Delicious,” she says. “But I believe I want more.” That grin is back, the grin that suggests something evil. What she’s doing is evil, no doubt. She’s taking your virtue, and with no proper courtship nor love to be found anywhere. Yet oh god does your body want more. Your cock aches for the return of that hot tongue’s caress.

Instead Twilight steps over you, four hooves planted around your body, then sits on your thighs suddenly, and you feel warm, soft fur brush against your cock. It sends a shudder through you. There’s a double clang as her front hooves are planted on your breastplate, and again some word of protest, some objection to engaging in the act that seems to be coming with a horse, hovers on your tongue. It dies unspoken, though, as Twilight shifts, and a wet heat rubs against your cock. The sensation is stunningly good all by itself, but it teases, promises more, and then delivers as Twilight, with an expression of intense satisfaction, lifts herself up and begins to sink back down, taking your cock within her as she does.

“Oh, god,” you groan, unable to help yourself. It feels like nothing you’ve ever known. You thought you’d felt pleasure when you’d found release in your own hand, but that was nothing compared to this.

“Oh, Chrysalis, you feel good,” moans Twilight, swearing by some blasphemous god of her own, no doubt. Another shudder goes through you at that. She is evil, you know she’s evil, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You would be bucking your hips, driving up into her already if the unnatural weight of your armor didn’t still hold you pinned.

Twilight grinds down on you, taking every inch of you, and your moan mingles with hers.

She lifts herself, then, sliding almost off of your cock, then sinking back down in one swift stroke that makes you gasp with pleasure. A throaty, amused chuckle comes from her. “Like that, hmm, monkey? Want more?”

You choke on a whimper, consider a nod, but can’t, your helm holds you pinned. You’re not sure what to say, how to respond.

Twilight taps one hoof idly against your breastplate. “You seem to like it. But I don’t know. Do hairless monkeys enjoy rutting? I think I’d like to hear you give some indication that you want more. Or maybe I’ll just leave you pinned here and go look for something else to amuse myself.”

You can’t help it, the whimper escapes your throat this time. The idea of having her amazing heat removed from around your cock is unthinkable.

With an almost sadistic laugh, Twilight says, “You do like it! Oh good.” She starts rocking her hips, moving slowly and shallowly atop you, but even that much movement is enough to make you moan again. She moans too, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. Her movements grow faster, more forceful, her inner walls clenching on your cock in a way that sends a shock of bliss through you.

You know it won’t be long before you come, and it seems that Twilight knows too, sensing it somehow, perhaps by the way your hips are trying futilely to move beneath her, perhaps by the sound of your moans. “Don’t you dare come before I’m done with you, monkey.”

You gasp, shocked by the harsh command in her voice. It’s all too easy to imagine the horrible things a sorceress of her obvious power could do to you, though, and those thoughts are just chilling enough to pull you back from the edge, despite the heat around you, which seems to only get wetter as Twilight continues to move.

“Good boy,” she murmurs, her huge eyes closed in concentration, her walls tightening further around you as she tenses. “You won’t have to wait long. Fuck you feel so good.” She’s moving fast now, hips slamming down on you, and while one hoof still remains planted on your breastplate, the other has moved elsewhere, rubbing at herself just above where your cock is sunk within her.

You can’t help but thrill at that, at the way she’s so obviously into you, the way you are pleasing her, giving her what she wants. The whole situation is bizarre and wrong, but the sight of her with pure ecstasy on her face is amazing, and it’s all you can do to hold back a few seconds more.

That’s just enough, though, for with a gasping cry of “Yes!” she is suddenly shuddering above you, all around you, her head thrown back, her wings spread wide, her whole body trembling with it. The spasming of her inner walls around you is too much and you come too, spilling your seed out into her. Could some strange issue come of that? You hope not, but in that moment of bliss you can’t bring yourself to care.

With a long sigh Twilight relaxes above you. “For a monkey, you did pretty well,” she says, leaning over to give you a wink. Then she pulls herself off of you. There’s quite a mess left behind. She give a stretch, spreading her wings out wide, then turns away with a flick of her tail and vanishes from your sight.

“Hey! Are you leaving? Wait! I’m still trapped!” you call out.

You hear cruel laughter, and her voice, already vanishing in the distance, says, “Not my problem, monkey! I’ve got work to do. See you.”

It takes about ten minutes, which seems like an eternity when you fear it will be, for whatever witchcraft has made your armor too heavy to fade away. You finally rise and put yourself to rights. Your horse is still nearby, his reins caught in a bush, which he has been grazing on in seeming contentment all the while.

When you mount up and continue on, the forest almost immediately returns to normal, and soon you find a road you know well, the road you’d meant to find before all this happened.

You follow it, continuing your quest, going about your life, and never tell a soul, not even the priest at confession, that you lost your virginity to a little purple equine.