"I wish I looked like that," Flash Sentry mumbled. He stared at the ultra-masculine form of the statue in front of him, a unicorn stallion, cloak billowing behind him, a staff held in his huge hand, every muscle etched perfectly in the stone. King Sombra, he knew, one of many statues he created of himself throughout the Crystal Empire. So many, in fact, that the crystal ponies hadn't gotten around to destroying all of them, like this one. While it was defaced with paint, chipped from dozens of rocks thrown at it, and impaled with more than a few arrows, the statue still exuded a feeling of power. Something Flash craved.

He didn't want to become a tyrant like the late king, he just wanted that feeling of strength, the rippling muscles, the imposing stature, the gigantic bulge beneath the loincloth, carefully carved to leave little to the imagination...

"Hello, little soldier, how would you like to look like that?"

Flash yelped in surprise. Standing behind him was a tall pony in a trenchcoat. The stallion's hat was tilted down, casting his face in shadow, but Flash could still make out two green eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. His frame was thin, or so he assumed, the heavy coat disguising most of his body definition, and judging by the small amount of exposed fur on his body, he appeared to be some shade of brown.

"Go on," Flash said, trying to remain cool as he leaned against the pedestal.

"This will give you the aesthetics you seek," The stallion said, reaching inside his coat. Flash's heart beat hard, his hand coming to rest on his small pocket dagger. Under Shining Armor's leadership, drug busts always led to commendations and promotion, and this looked like it would be a doozy. This arrest would make his career!

"A loincloth?!" Flash fumed, "What kind of moron am I?"

He gazed down at his scrawny body, and the oversized loincloth covering his lap. The stallion he dragged in for possession had been released, and he was given a verbal beatdown courtesy of the desk sergeant, when it turned out the pony was attempting to sell him underwear. Strange, but not illegal, and now he was faced with another demerit for his troubles. In his embarrassment, he completely forgot to give the stallion back the loincloth he'd tried to sell, and now here he was, confined to barracks for the next week, polishing spearheads until his next patrol. His career was over, he just knew it, he'd never make it past the rank of private, he'd-

"F-fuck!" Flash grunted, his spear clattering to the floor as every muscle in his body spasmed at once. "What was tha-aat?!"

Flash doubled over, wrapping himself in his wings as another spasm jolted through his body. "W-what the fuck?" He groaned. His muscles contracted involuntarily once more, leaving him gasping for breath as he stood up, shakily attempting to move, but his legs just wouldn't go. He needed to reach the infirmary...

His chest tickled. Looking down, he saw the thin tuft across his flat breast curling up, then simply falling out of their follicles. Likewise, the hair across his body seemed to shudder and fall off at once, dark hairs fluttering to the floor like confetti. On his head, his uneven crew cut blossomed into straight blue hair reaching down to his shoulders. He vaguely remembered the regulation requiring all recruits' manes be less than one inch in length.

His legs felt wobbly, and Flash collapsed back onto his cot as he seemed to shoot up, from 5'6" to 5'8", then 6'0", 6'5", 7'0", limbs lengthening and thickening, torso stretching and widening. The set of armor next to him started to seem too small, even though it had been big on him just a minute ago. If nothing else, as his hooves stretched out over the end of the bed, he'd get some better fitting armor out of this deal.

A jolt in his privates drew a growing hand down to his cock and balls, gripping his shaft as it thickened. An involuntary pump confirmed that it was more sensitive than ever, causing a big glob of precum drip out and splash loudly on the floor. That was probably everything in his tiny balls, at least momentarily, when a warmth flooded his chestnut-sized testicles and they began to swell.

"So big... So fucking big..." He gasped, his mind barely registering his deepening voice. Every tingling nerve in his body fed him pure pleasure, but the most pleasurable was his enormous cock, which was now twice its original size and poked out from the giant hand jerking up and down the shaft. A steady drool of pre kept him lubricated as he went, feeling the soft fabric against his package and hand, the only sound the creaking of his cot, his groans of ecstasy, and the wet slapping as his hand reached the base of his cock and started back up, each stroke taking slightly longer than the previous one.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he felt himself nearing orgasm. He could barely think, totally consumed with the sheer pleasure of growth, but at long last, he erupted like a fire hose, shooting wads of cum across the room in the greatest release of his life. Teeth gritted, he almost roared as litres of spunk blasted from his 12" dick.

Sitting on his creaking cot, panting, Flash's eyes drifted across the room to the standing mirror. Every muscle ached, but it was a good ache, and he was able to heave himself into a standing position. A few careful, wobbling steps later, he was at his goal. His new stature brought his head to just scrape the top of the mirror, and the width of his body barely fit in the frame. Crouching down slightly, he was able to get a good look at himself, and what he saw, he liked.

His entire body had practically exploded in muscle. His droopy mantits had grown into a proper barrel chest, tender nipples standing at attention. Lateral muscles spread out like a cobra's hood, leading from his hairless armpits to the rock-hard eight pack etched into his abdomen. The wings behind him stretched far out of the mirror, nearly brushing the walls with their span.

Flash flexed an arm, watching every muscle tighten. His biceps were as big as cantaloupes, forearms thicker than... Than... Something really thick! At least twenty inches around! He couldn't help but think of the bodybuilders in his old Sports Illustrated, but his arms weren't crossed with thick, wiry veins. Caressing his bicep, his sausage-like fingers detected nothing but smooth fur.

Grabbing his spear from the floor, Flash struck a pose in the mirror, mimicking the old Canterlonian statues he'd seen in Celestia's palace. He was the very image of masculinity, from his tight calves to his newly chiseled jawline. Ponies would finally take him seriously as a guard, he'd be promoted to captain, mares and stallions alike would throw themselves at him, if only to get a good look at his perfect body.

He stood there for what seemed like hours, admiring every aspect of his physique and imagining the glorious life that awaited him. Images of medals and honors danced across his eyes, his body draped in silk clothing and jewelry, bars of rank, even a great golden crown perched upon his head as Princess Cadence declared him King of the Crystal Empire.

Suddenly, a clock chimed, and Flash awoke. 'Four O'clock?!' He thought, panicking, 'I'm late for my patrol!'

Quickly, he spun around and rushed out of the room, hoping nopony had noticed him absent from his post... Or he would've, if he could move. Flash felt a strange jolt as he attempted to move, only to realize he was rooted to the spot as if by some enormous weight. His entire body felt so stiff, he could barely twitch a muscle. "Wfh bh ffh?" He mumbled, his jaw unmoving, lips locked in a cocky grin. Dread began to grow in his stomach.

Even his eyes were immobile. All he could see was the mirror in front of him, and what he saw filled him with horror.

His coat was turning pale, the bright orange turning to a pale white. Even the cloth over his enormous bulge was losing color, slowly turning from a dark brown to a light grey. Marble. He was becoming a statue!

He squirmed and shook, trying to escape this nightmare, but it was no use. Numbness spread across his body, starting in his stomach and working down his legs, up his torso and along his arms, his entire body drifting away. He could hardly think to act as he shifted from flesh and blood to cold, hard rock. Soon, all he could feel was the racing mind inside his stone head. Only one thought remained: He wished he'd picked a different pose.

"Thank you, Dr. Caballeron! This statue is sure to inspire recruitment!"

Behind him, he heard the voice of Prince Armor, former captain of the Canterlot Guard and his current commanding officer. But who was he talking to?

"A pleasure, your majesty."

The stallion in the overcoat! Frantically trying to move his eyes, he was unable to see anything behind his stony reflection but the edge of a trenchcoat. A small brown hand squeezed his hard, cold arm, dwarfed by the huge bicep, and Flash was aware of just how big he really was.

"It looks familiar..." Flash felt a twinge of hope in his stone chest, only to be crushed with the next words, "Ancient Canterlonian, right?"

"Yes, this is based on a statue in Canterhorn Museum. Note the loincloth, we found several preserved specimen at a recent excavation in Hoof Springs."

"Fascinating."

Flash tried to move, to speak, to let the prince know he wasn't just a statue, but it was no use. His entire body was made of solid, unmoving marble. He could only hope that someday, somepony would save him. He'd give anything, even his new physique, just to move again, to get one more breath of fresh air, to stand perfectly still for hours as ponies passed by and ridiculed his pathetic, wimpy frame... He felt himself encased in Shining Armor's pink magic, lifted up, and carried out the door to his new home in front of the barracks.

At least now he'd be admired.

"I wish I looked like that," Mumbled a private, fresh out of boot camp. He stared at the ultra-masculine form of the statue in front of him, a pegasus stallion, wings outstretched, a spear held in his huge hand, every muscle etched perfectly in the stone. The smirk on his face gave him an air of steady confidence the small stallion couldn't help but envy.

"Hello, little soldier, how would you like to look like that?"

For a second, he thought he saw the statue's face twitch, screwing up in a look of fear and anger. Glancing back, it was as cool and impassive as ever.

"Go on," He said, leaning against the pedestal.

Author's Note

I don't hate Flash Sentry. I don't hate my followers. I don't hate the general clopfic audience. I do hate people who downvote stories because it isn't their fetish.