Between Two Nuts and a Hard Place

At home, Caramel usually slept in a bedroom that could probably be compared to a den - or a cave: heavy curtains, warm blankets, and a plethora of large, fluffy pillows. Big Macintosh, though, had forgotten to close the blinds the previous night, and so it was the prickling of bright morning sunlight at Caramel’s eyelids that woke him up the following morning. He groaned, grumbling with a silent wish for more sleep - but then felt the ground shift beneath his hooves and decided against it. He yawned, then stretched, pressing gently down over the soft red carpet that had formed his bed. “Mornin’, Mac,” he mumbled, a sleepy smile on his face.

He could feel Mac’s chest slowly rising and falling beneath him. Caramel frowned, glancing out at the window. A bit of light was seeping in through the shades, but not very much. It must still be early. He considered going back to sleep, but decided against it for two reasons: First, he wanted to be ready when Mac awoke; he had made a promise to come clean, after all. Second…

...his little cock was hard with the morning’s arousal, and he couldn’t resist the opportunity to have some last-minute “me-time” with his oversized partner.

Caramel glanced back over his shoulder, turning away from Mac’s peaceful, slumbering muzzle and toward the tent said stallion was making in the sheets. He licked his lips, a throb of arousal sending his cock lurching to one side. And oh, what a tent it was.

It was a perfect cone, molded into a half-sphere over the top. A line of drool ran down Caramel’s chin, his libido doubling at the sight alone. The bulge of Big Mac’s morning wood beneath the blankets was a vision almost as marvelous as the massive cock itself. It curved along the sides of his flare, the fat bulge of his head obvious through the thin fabric. Caramel swallowed, his own morning wood twitching between his legs. And was that a dark stain he saw? A damp spot, right at the tip of Mac’s member; a musky, wet reminder of his insatiable arousal.

“Just a short playtime,” Caramel told himself. He found himself trotting down the curve of Mac’s belly, mesmerized by the softly swaying tent in the sheets. That bulge almost seemed to breathe, throbbing with a powerful lust that simply begged for attention. As Caramel wiggled his way beneath the sheets, a wave of Big Mac’s warm, sensual musk washed over him. He took a deep breath, sighing happily. This was familiar territory.

There it was: a tall, formidable pillar of stallionhood that just screamed “look at me.” Caramel knew that Big Macintosh had always been a shy stallion, but if he’d ever cared to present himself another way, he knew that Mac could have been crawling with stallions (and mares, he sullenly admitted) faster than you could shout “big red hunk.” A thin line of precum had already dripped down the side of the shaft, a potent reminder of Mac’s arousal. Caramel licked his lips one more time, then touched his hoof to his own erection. It bobbed and swayed beneath him, a drop of his own precum already beading at the tip. He nearly chuckled. It seemed that the virility of a stallion like Big Mac couldn’t help but rub off on those around him.

“Hey, cutie,” Caramel purred. He slipped toward Mac’s tremendous cock and softly nuzzled the base. It throbbed powerfully beneath his muzzle, a fat vein bulging against his cheek. “Looks like you’re all ready to burst.”

He positioned himself appropriately: “standing” on his hind legs, both forehooves wrapped firmly around as much cock as he could reach. Caramel planted a gentle kiss on the titanic shaft, then slowly, sensually (he hoped) drew his tongue across the side. He could taste Mac’s salty, sweat-flecked precum; the entire shaft was soaked with Big Mac’s pure masculinity...not to mention his late-night orgasm. Caramel moaned, grinding his own erection gently against that pulsing, rock-hard surface.

A cute moan tore its way from his lips. The touch of his member to Mac’s was just as he remembered: incredible. His whole body may have been less than one-tenth of the mammoth shaft’s entire length, but every sensual frot against Big Mac’s girth made his entire body pulse with a pure, lustful arousal in time with Mac’s own slumbering urges. Big Mac was hard and ready, and Caramel couldn’t resist having his way with him.

He whinnied softly, his hips sliding from side to side. He left a smear of precum in his wake, a steady slickness of arousal that mixed with Mac’s own musky pre. “Oh, gods, Mac,” Caramel moaned, loving the way his tiny cock twitched and throbbed against the enormous one before him. He’d never felt smaller or more fragile—his own erection was like paper before the incredible hardness of Big Mac’s own morning lust. And he loved it. He kept humping, whining, whimpering, panting. “You’re so—so big. Nngh.”

Caramel bit down as he came, his long, feminine eyelashes fluttering. A wave of satisfaction and release swept through him, his hips jerking with the force of orgasm. He grunted cutely, high-pitched squeals of pleasure mixing with the splatter of his tiny load against the cliff of Mac’s enormous shaft. Four, five—six times his cock flared, a huge (for him) amount of jizz covering Mac’s swollen base.

Panting, Caramel relaxed his grip. He felt the huge, fleshy tower throb one last time, then released his hooves from around Big Mac’s shaft. He plopped back onto his haunches with a stupid grin on his face.

That grin, though, soon faded. For, Caramel realized, his surroundings weren’t dark anymore. A creeping horror began to drip down his spine when he recognized the light as the same he’d seen filtering through the window shades. The blankets had been lifted. He was no longer covered. And that meant—

Horror surging in his chest, Caramel whirled around—and froze. A pair of big, wide green eyes stared back down at him.

Caramel gulped. Suddenly, the sweat beading on his forehead didn’t really feel like the product of satisfaction anymore. “Um,” he said, in a very small voice. “Hi.”

Those big, green eyes didn’t even blink. “You ain’t a mouse,” Big Macintosh said deliberately.

“Er. No.” Caramel was beginning to realize just how this looked. He glanced down at the softening erection between his legs—still covered with a thin sheen of precum, his lower chest and belly splattered with ropes of his own jizz—and quickly made to cover it up with his hooves. An enormous blush crossed his face soon after. There was still a small, yet noticeable glob of tiny stallion spunk dripping down the base of Big Mac’s shaft—and he didn’t doubt that the big stallion had seen, if not everything, then at least the entirety of the ending.

Caramel paled. “Eep,” he squeaked.

Big Mac’s own cheeks, he noticed, were actually surprisingly rosy. And the look of bewilderment in his big, soft eyes was undeniable. “Why’re you small?” he asked. “And...why were you…”

He sounded absolutely lost. Caramel couldn’t blame him.

Okay, Caramel told himself. Time to be a real stallion. You’ve been worshipping one for the past two days—years, he quickly corrected himself—so time to own up to it and act like one. He drew in a deep breath, stood up a little taller—which only brought him up to one inch and one-tenth, as opposed to the one-inch even he’d been before, so the overall image wasn’t really all that impressive—and looked Big Mac in the eye.

Or tried to, at least. Both stallions’ blushes flared, and both quickly glanced away.

“I drank one of Apple Bloom’s potions,” Caramel blurted. “The—the Shrinking Violet one. I didn’t think it would actually make me—well—small. I thought it’d do...well, something else,” he finished lamely.

Big Mac wet his lips. “What?”

Caramel took a breath. This was it. This was his moment to come clean.

“I thought it would help me be more confident,” he said miserably. Oh, he’d had this all planned out, and it would have been romantic and sweet and absolutely not involve Big Mac discovering him jizzing all over his enormous morning wood. “Because there was something I wanted to say, but couldn’t. Because I thought I was a shrinking violet, and thought it might help me...well, stand a little taller.”

Big Mac glanced back toward his still-throbbing erection. It was clear that his biggest question hadn’t been answered yet. Looking slightly flustered, he tossed the blanket back over himself, though not before gently nudging Caramel forward onto his belly. Caramel squeaked in surprise at the sudden force against his back, but let Big Mac guide him forward onto safer ground. Behind him, the blanket thumped back down. He imagined it settling back around the shape of Mac’s monstrous bulge...and quickly gave himself a mental swat.

“So, what did you want to say?” Big Mac asked. His brows furrowed.

“Well…” Caramel licked his lips. “There was a pony that I liked very much. That I do like very much,” he clarified. “A, uh, stallion actually.” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. “That I more than like.”

Dammit, why was this so hard? He knew the words! He knew—or thought he knew—how Mac felt. All the same, forcing out each word felt like chewing nails. He wanted Big Mac to object, to proclaim his love, to curse him, to react with disgust, interest, anything.

Anything other than the quiet “Uh-huh” that answered him.

Caramel’s cheeks burned. “You, you big, stupid hunk!” he blurted. “I wanted to tell you how I felt—how much I was into you—but I just couldn’t find the words! But now I have! I like you, Big Macintosh, and I like you a lot.” His chest was heaving, droplets of sweat streaming down his cheeks and forehead. Caramel panted, unable to stop the flood of words pouring from his mouth. “And you’re not stupid at all, though you are a hunk—and oh my gosh I’m so stupid for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry if you think I’m weird or crazy or…”

He trailed off, feeling rather pathetic. But when he next saw Mac’s eyes, he recognized something in them that he’d always hoped for: interest. What he recognized next was a bit more unexpected. Was that...fear? Or even relief? He froze. Beneath his hooves, he could feel Mac’s heartbeat quickening, the fur slicking with sweat.

“Y’all…” Mac chewed on the word, tasted it. “...like me.”

Caramel squeaked out something resembling affirmation. He nodded firmly, his cute little cheeks blushing a bright red.

Mac’s gaze drifted back over toward the tent in his sheets. Caramel’s own gaze followed. Evidently, this much drama couldn’t drain even an inch of arousal from the big stallion’s enormous length—if anything, it looked even thicker.

“And that was why you were…” Mac paused, as if unsure of how to finish that sentence. He was still blushing, too. It would have been completely adorable, had Caramel not been flushing even harder.

“I didn’t mean to!” Caramel said. “At first, I mean. At first I wanted to come and get you for help, because everything was so big and I was so small—and still am small, really—but then I got...distracted.” He swallowed. “You were just so big and...well, sexy. I couldn’t resist. And then I was having too much fun with the whole thing yesterday to stop. But I did intend to tell you this morning, Big Mac, honest!”

Big Mac just looked bewildered. “Y’think I’m...sexy?” he asked. Caramel couldn’t tell if his voice was deadpan on purpose, or whether he was just confused enough to sound monotonous. Whatever the reason, Caramel didn’t care anymore. He’d long since passed that point.

“Yes, you’re sexy!” he burst out. “You’re the biggest, hottest hunk I’ve ever seen! You’re a damned stud, Big Macintosh, and I couldn’t help myself with you around. You just made me want...made me want…” Caramel’s lip trembled, and he whimpered softly. An aftershock of arousal rumbled through his body, mixing with shame, embarrassment, and lingering satisfaction.

“You, Big Mac,” Caramel finished miserably. “I can’t help but want you. Not just for your size,” he added quickly, “or for your...assets”—Big Mac’s eyebrows went up—”but because you’re the kindest, strongest, gentlest stallion I know, and I...just wanted you to know that.”

“That really how you feel ‘bout me?” Big Mac’s voice held the same earthy and rich tones it always had, but the timbre was different somehow. He sounded almost...fearful. “I always figured you liked mares, ‘cuz you hung around ‘em so much.”

Caramel felt like laughing. He felt like crying. He felt like doing both at the same time, then breaking down and rolling around in the big stallion’s fur. He hadn’t forgotten, of course, of the vast differential in size between them. Yet somehow Big Mac’s innocent bewilderment made him feel much smaller—not tiny, like Caramel, but...normal. Less larger-than-life.

“Of course I hang around mares, you silly colt,” Caramel giggled. “I’m as flaming as they come. But you—you’ve always been so strong. So masculine. So...big. I never even thought that you could like me the same way I liked you, just ‘cause you could have any mare you wanted by crooking your hoof. So when I heard you say my name like that two nights ago, I thought… I realized I might have a chance.”

Big Mac stiffened. “You saw that?” he asked.

“I didn’t mean to!” Caramel said. “I’d just finished running away from a Winona the size of a train, and I couldn’t get your attention. Once you’d started, I know I should’ve stopped looking and listening, but I… I couldn’t help it.” He swallowed. “Every time you said my name, or said that ‘I’ was pretty, I couldn’t help but imagine that it was really me that you were saying those things to. I wanted it to be me. It just made me feel...so good.”

By the time he finished, he was nearly whispering. He actually doubted that Big Macintosh had caught those last few words, as small and quiet as he was now. Still, the look of dawning realization in Big Mac’s eyes meant, at the very least, he’d gotten the gist of it. So Caramel hoped, anyway.

“Really?” Big Mac asked. “You...liked that stuff? All that talk ‘bout”—he blushed—”callin’ you pretty, or bein’ your stallion, or…”

“Yes!” Caramel cried. “You absolute lummox! I’d let you do anything to me!” His hooves instantly flew to his mouth, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Big Mac’s eyes widened a fraction. “...Anythin’?” he asked, his voice husky, disbelieving.

Caramel fidgeted nervously. His hoof brushed against a tuft of Mac’s chest fluff, the once-warm and comforting “carpet” now seeming almost alien. “...Yes,” he finally admitted. “Dammit, Mac. A big, strong stallion like you?” He giggled nervously. “A tiny, cute little sub like me? I wouldn’t be able to say no.”

Big Mac eyed him for a moment, weighing him. Caramel wanted to shrink back, but forced himself to stand up tall instead. This was it. He was done hiding his feelings, done hiding behind a veil of shyness and shrinking back whenever he wanted to say something meaningful. Only one way to go now: Forward.

Finally, Mac just nodded. “Y’are kinda cute,” he said. There was a hint of dawning realization behind his eyes, as though he’d decided exactly what that meant for the very first time. Caramel didn’t even see the hoof at first, so deliberate, so gentle did Mac move it. All he felt was the brush of displaced air against his back—and then Big Mac had taken him in hoof, scooping him up off his chest until they were staring eye-to-eye.

“Wh-whoa,” Caramel said. “Uh. What’re you doing?”

Big Mac blushed. It was the cutest thing Caramel had ever seen. “Well,” he drawled. “Y’did say anything… And I figure you’ve already given yourself enough time to walk your way ‘round my body.”

That was true. Caramel relaxed, no longer wriggling in Mac’s grip. It was hard not to flinch reflexively on seeing the big stallion’s giant maw cracking open, but thankfully, it didn’t open much wider than that. Big Mac held his tongue carefully between his teeth, eyeing the tiny Caramel with no small amount of interest. Caramel squirmed a bit, momentarily feeling a bit exposed—his still-dripping cock had flopped right over his thigh, and was obviously completely visible to Big Mac’s focused gaze. But, he told himself, fair was fair.

Carefully, Big Mac poked his tongue out past his lips and gave Caramel a lick.

It wasn’t a large lick, nor a heavy one. If anything, only the tip of his tongue hard brushed against Caramel’s crotch. But that alone easily covered the tiny stallion’s groin, belly, and more. Caramel groaned, his muscles flexing as the rough surface of Big Mac’s tongue dragged across his entire package. He felt like he could feel every tastebud, every warm, sticky bit of saliva clinging to his tiny stallionhood. Big Mac was tasting him—and he seemed to like what he found.

When Mac pulled away, still holding the little stallion delicately in his hoof, Caramel was panting. His boner, which had just seconds before been soft, was now completely hard. So effortlessly had Big Mac dominated him, held him, pleasured him. He thought he’d been turned on before, but he’d been wrong. Caramel had never felt more out of control. He was, quite literally, in Mac’s hooves, a tiny life that could be extinguished—or a tiny libido that could be fanned into a roaring flame. He trusted Big Mac enough to know it would be the latter.

Big Mac’s tongue retracted. Caramel wanted to beg him for more—wanted to be roughhoused, handled, pleasured by that magnificent, moist plain—but it was clear that the big, red hunk had other plans. With Caramel’s now fully hard stallionhood poking out at a pathetic sixth of an inch, the little stallion’s arousal had reached critical levels. Big Mac eyed it for a moment, pursed his lips, and leaned gently forward.

Caramel’s eyes bulged wide. Big Mac’s lips were pressed gently around his shaft, the edge of Caramel’s flare pushing past just past his massive muzzle. Perhaps past wasn’t even the write word—Celestia knew that Caramel was far too small for Big Mac to give him a proper blowjob. All the same, the pressure of those lips around his member was like nothing Caramel had ever felt before.

Oh, gods, the suction was incredible. Caramel groaned, situating his arms so that they rested just on the top of Big Mac’s upper lip. His lower legs dangled, his rear grinding against the edge of Mac’s giant hoof. Big Mac could scarcely “suck” Caramel’s cock for fear of sucking the rest of him down, and yet the gentle giant was doing a wonderful job pleasuring his tiny, horny friend.

Caramel moaned cutely. “Oh, Celestia, Mac,” he whimpered. “Oh, yes. Oh—oh, yes. It just feels so good—and I’m just so small.” His ass began to slid up and down the side of Mac’s hoof, his whole body grinding against the softness of Big Mac’s plump lips. Mere minutes after cumming, his balls already felt full again, more than ready to spill their seed for the second time that morning. Even as he humped Macintosh’s muzzle, though, he knew that he wasn’t the one in control here. Mac held all the power now, and he could deny or pleasure Caramel as he wished. The very thought just made the little stallion squirm harder in delight.

Within seconds, Caramel felt just about ready to blow. It was Mac’s tongue that finally did it: one swish of that rough, moist surface against the flared head of his cock, and Caramel felt the floodgates go loose. He cried out, his eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerked, but Big Mac kept him easily in place. His tiny shaft lurched, depositing its droplet-sized load just past Mac’s lips; the giant stallion slurped it down easily, the additional suction of his mouth making Caramel’s orgasm last all the longer.

When Big Mac pulled him back, Caramel was panting. The little stallion shuddered happily, then gave Big Mac a loopy smile. “G-guess we’re even now,” he said.

“Nope.” Mac licked his lips clean of the last bit of Caramel’s tiny load. “Not quite.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Big Mac fixed him with a level stare. “You’ve been usin’ me all the last day to get yourself off,” he said. “Think it’s about time you lent me a hoof.”

Caramel couldn’t say “yes” fast enough. ”Oh, yes please—I’d love to. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Big Mac nodded. “Good,” he rumbled. “‘Cuz I got an idea that don’t involve you doin’ much at all.”

Caramel barely had time to squeak out a “huh?” before he found himself whipping through the air. Gentle as he was, the sheer size difference between himself and Big Mac meant that even a soft, short movement meant heavy winds for the tiny stallion. His cock bobbed and smacked against his thighs, his whole body pressed against the side of Mac’s massive hoof.

With a thump, the covers were pushed to the side. Caramel watched with wide eyes as Mac’s colossal stallionhood sprang up into the air, thick and black and larger than life. It looked even bigger than he remembered, if that was even possible. More than a foot of heavy, dripping, musky stallion meat...and it was all his.

Or rather, Caramel thought with a shiver, he was all its.

Caramel squeaked when he felt the flare of that massive shaft nudging against his cheek. Big Mac pressed him, not hard, but firmly, against a particularly fat vein, which snaked all the way from the base up to the wide-set, pre-slick head. Caramel moaned as Mac “forced” his muzzle against a stream of leaking pre.

“Figured you liked rubbin’ against my cock,” Big Mac said gruffly. That voice—oh, that voice. Yes, Caramel wanted to squeal, and would have if he hadn’t been so occupied with lapping up the rivers of milky-clear precum streaming across his muzzle. Yes, I like rubbing against your cock. Oh, my Celestia, yes.

“Ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Mac growled, “but I figure you could do your part to help get me off. ‘Cuz you may’ve finished yourself...but I still got a whopper of an apple tree to take care of.”

Oh, gosh, the incredibly inappropriate sexual apple farm metaphors. Caramel could have died happy.

And it was true: it really was a whopper. Caramel had little choice in the matter, but he would’ve happily pressed his muzzle against Mac’s rock-hard erection anyway. His tiny body slid down Mac’s well-lubricated shaft, one giant hoof lightly “squeezing” his outstretched arms around Mac’s titanic girth. Mac grunted, his thighs flexing. Reduced to nothing more than a masturbation aid for Big Mac’s morning wood, Caramel was still surprised at the fact that his own stallionhood wasn’t completely hard. Three rounds, it seemed, may have been too much for him. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make Big Mac’s first round as pleasurable as possible.

Then again… Caramel squirmed in Mac’s grip. His fur slid effortless over Mac’s pre-slicked shaft as the big red stallion slowly pumped him up and down. He was pretty much powerless at this size: Big Macintosh had made up his mind to use Caramel to jack himself off, and the little stallion was helpless to do anything but go along for the ride. Squeezed between Mac’s enormous hoof, and the gigantic stallion’s doubly massive cock—oh, Celestia; every pulse of that incredible meat made his whole body throb, beating in time with Mac’s indomitable arousal—Caramel was nothing more than a toy for Big Mac to pleasure himself with.

Big Mac’s pre had begun to drip in an ever-quickening flow down his shaft, soaking Caramel in so much sticky arousal he could hardly breathe. What little air he did get between gulps of Mac’s warm, sticky precum with thick with that giant stallion’s intoxicating lust. Everything in his world now was simply another part of Mac’s pleasure - and it felt incredible. It was like every fantasy in his life had come true: in that moment, Caramel was absolutely overjoyed at the prospect of being completely and utterly used. In that moment, Big Mac more than dominated him—he owned Caramel, the entire inch of it. And the tiny, moaning, squirming stallion couldn’t have loved it more.

Mac’s breathing was growing labored. Perhaps it was the care he had to take to ensure Caramel’s safety, or the oversized libido the tiny stallion’s ministrations had given him over the last few days. Whatever the case, as the gigantic stallion began to growl and twitch, pressing Caramel just a little more tightly against his throbbing, meaty shaft, it soon became clear that he had no intention of taking it slow. Big Macintosh wanted to cum, and he had no compunctions about using Caramel to get there.

It was perhaps Caramel’s one disappointment that Big Mac hadn’t—for completely understandable reasons, of course—decided to use him as a cocksock. He privately made a note to visit the magic sex shop in town and ask about a spell that might possibly—and oh goodness he was just brimming with forwardness now, wasn’t he? Another pump of his body along Mac’s throbbing length, though, set his mind back on task—especially when that mountainous hoof rubbed his helpless, tiny body around the base of that quivering, rock-hard shaft.

Caramel gurgled happily, his tiny muzzle pressed tightly against the skin between Mac’s throbbing cock and his plump, churning balls. Mac groaned and pressed a little harder. Caramel actually sank a good half-centimeter into those soft, fuzzy cum-spheres; he could actually hear the “gallons” of cum (to him) sloshing around inside. He was, he decided, more than ready to help that sea of spunk find release—even and especially if that “release” was right on top of him.

“O-oh, ‘Mel.” Big Mac groaned, his powerful chest heaving with exertion. Caramel’s ears tingled—had he really just heard Big Mac call him that? “You’re...just so soft. You...mmff...cute lil’ thing. You feel so good—”

Caramel moaned. That was it. He’d died and gone to heaven—that was the only reasonable response. Mac kept pushing, kept rubbing, kept pumping, abusing Caramel’s soft, tiny body for his own pleasure until the roar of cum churning in those massive nuts was about all Caramel could hear.

Big Mac was panting. “I’m—I’m gonna—” He didn’t even need to say it. Instead, all he had to do was slide Caramel’s tiny, squirming body up the full length of his cock—following the bulge of his first load up the shaft - before planting ‘Mel’s tiny muzzle directly over his wide, flaring cockslit.

And then Mac came.

Caramel’s eyes squeezed shut just in time. A flood of cum washed forth from Mac’s enormous tip, a cascade of jizz that soon drowned his head, shoulders, and the rest of his body with a single oversized splurt! He opened his mouth wide, like a foal trying to catch snowflakes. His cheeks filled again and again, each new rope of cum filling his mouth as he frantically tried to gulp it all down. He swallowed what felt like load after load—though to Big Mac himself, he’d barely finished unloading the first spurt.

Waves of hot spunk spattered every inch of Caramel’s tiny body. His jaw ached from staying open for so long; his belly had long since grown big and tight, completely full of Mac’s warm cream. Caramel moaned, gurgling through the oncoming river of jizz as Mac’s orgasm went on without end. Unable to take any more, his tiny, abused mouth simply overflowed with cum, drops of thick seed dribbling down the tiny stallion’s cum-drenched cheeks.

Big Macintosh certainly wasn’t shy about sharing his pleasure with Caramel. Once it became clear that Caramel was too full to swallow a single drop more—and for him, a single drop of Mac’s jizz might as well have been a full meal—Big Mac gave the little plush stallion a soft squeeze and began to pump his flare in earnest. Caramel moaned, his tiny body squirming in overpowering delight as Mac used him to milk his orgasm to the fullest. Caramel was completely and utterly covered with cum, his body saturated with the big stallion’s seed in every possible way. He was barely more than a blob of the stuff now, a slick little cumsponge that Mac could roll around his constantly erupting cockslit.

Finally, after both far too much and too little time, Big Mac’s orgasm ceased. The big stallion’s hoof had withdrawn, leaving Caramel sprawled awkwardly atop the curve of his flare. Little Caramel’s chest heaved, his whole body shuddering with a kind of pleasure that far surpassed the simply sexual.

His whole body was white. Gone were the warm, soft tans; his Cutie Marks, too, had vanished beneath a covering of creamy white. Big Mac had surrounded him, covered him completely in his seed, and Caramel would have given almost anything to roll around in it until the musky scent of it had seeped into every pore of his skin. But it was all he could do to keep breathing, his tiny body worn out, his belly swollen and sloshing and full of what felt like gallons of Big Macintosh’s seed.

Idly, Caramel realized happily that nothing would have changed, even had he been at his normal size. From what he’d seen over the past two days, Macintosh was more than virile enough to do this to him at any height. All it would have taken was a few more swallows, a few more spurts of piping hot Apple cum, and even a regular-sized belly would be left sloshing with Mac’s virile seed, hanging down near his knees with a fat, rounded bulge curving right around his middle.

Caramel panted. He was tired, and a little bit sore—which was entirely understandable, given the role he’d just been made to play. Deep in his chest, though, he felt a deep, enduring warmth that passed beyond even the strongest of afterglows. As it was, he could barely do more than moan happily, his legs flopping against Big Mac’s hoof as it tenderly scooped him off of the still-twitching stallionhood.

Caramel glanced sleepily up at Big Mac’s muzzle, looming far above him. Then he yelped, flailing a bit, as Big Mac’s tongue gave his face a long, thorough slurp. By the end of it, Caramel’s warm face was dripping with saliva—and, he realized, clean of any leftover cum.

Carefully, delicately, Big Mac cleaned Caramel off. He lapped up each rope of spunk from Caramel’s coat and mane, taking care to avoid hurting or swallowing the tiny, jizz-covered stallion. Caramel whined softly, his back legs kicking as Mac’s long, rough tongue dragged across his rump. His cheeks flexed, every sensitive part of his rear flaring up as Mac cleaned him off. Even as Big Mac licked his cum off of Caramel’s fur, though, it was clear that it wasn’t sexual. It was too tender, too...intimate for that.

When Big Macintosh finished, Caramel was wet with moisture, but, for the most part, completely clean. Big Mac regarded him closely for a moment, Caramel wisely taking the time to regain his breath. Once he had, he glanced up, meeting Big Mac’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Big Mac paused. “...Hurt ya, did I?”

Caramel wordlessly shook his head. Big Mac’s shoulders slumped, and the big stallion exhaled. The force of his breath blew Caramel’s mane back over his forehead and shoulder.

“Good.” Mac sighed. “Kinda got a lil’...carried away there.” His cheeks were a bright, rosy red. But by the look of satisfaction in his eyes, it was clear he’d enjoyed himself.

“You were magnificent,” Caramel said dreamily. Then, noting the bemusement in Big Mac’s eyes, he quickly added, “I mean, I’m glad I could, um, help you. It was...fun.” He blushed, too.

Big Mac’s muzzle twitched upward into a smile. “Glad to hear,” he drawled. He appeared to stare—not at Caramel, but past him for a moment. He looked...thoughtful. Hesitant. Then, just as Caramel was about to ask if something was wrong, he leaned forward, his lips pursed.

Caramel let out a muffled grunt—and then melted into the kiss. He didn’t squirm or twitch; he just let his whole face sink into the softness of Mac’s plump lips. Admittedly, with this size differential, it was hard for a kiss to be anything close to equal. Mac clearly had to hold himself back from going any further; as it was, he could barely do more than press Caramel’s tiny muzzle against his own mouth, with the tiny stallion licking happily at his lips in a miniature facsimile of a “kiss.” But by the time they came out of it, both of them were beaming.

“...So,” Big Mac said quietly. “You really think I’m sexy.”

Caramel nodded. “You...really think I’m cute?” Big Mac nodded back, his eyes flickering down. Caramel could have squealed with happiness.

“Maybe…” Big Mac shrugged. He leaned back in his bed, holding the little Caramel up just between his eyes. “Maybe this would be worth givin’ a try.”

“Maybe,” Caramel echoed. He nuzzled against the underside of Mac’s hoof. “I’d, uh, be happy to try. If you were, that is.”

Mac just nodded silently. They sat there for a moment, Mac on his bed, and Caramel on his hoof. Then,

“Maybe first, we should, uh”—Caramel coughed—”go find Zecora? Y’know, to try and return me to my normal size.”

He glanced up. A smirk had crossed Big Mac’s face, and something mischievous was glittering behind those big green eyes.

“Nope,” Big Mac said, his hoof trailing downward once more. He crooked an eyebrow. Caramel could have giggled with glee. “I think we can maybe put that off a little while longer.”