To Be a Princess

by Megapone

Rating: mature
Tags: Anthro, Romance
Length: 39532

Trixie's big breasts and great ass aren't enough to satisfy her. No; she wants to be the biggest, curviest, most sexual mare in Equestria - and a hunky, well-endowed Blueblood's unbridled lusts and deep pockets are the perfect way to get her there.

Trixie Lulamoon and Prince Blueblood are the newest power couple on the Canterlot social scene. She's got a bustier, curvier body than any noblemare for miles. He's a muscled, well-endowed hunk whose money can buy any kind of pleasure or enhancement that a wealthy royal (or his mistress) could desire. But for Trixie, big breasts and a great ass aren't enough to satisfy her. No; she wants to have a body that's big and curvy enough to match her inevitable future title of "Princess" - and Blueblood's unbridled lusts and deep pockets are the perfect things to get her there.

Contains: Big/Hyper Breasts/Ass/Cock/Balls, Big Muscles (Male), (Borderline) Public Exhibition/Flaunting, Amazon/Mini-Giantess (in later chapters).

Coverart by pia-sama. A commission for Magic Man.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-02 02:27:58 UTC

Chapter One: Big (and Loving it)

The water was warm.

Trixie couldn’t stand cold water. It made her feel wrinkly and ugly, and it took her hours to stop shivering. But warm water, like that in the pool, was balmy, peaceful, heavenly. She swam across the length of the pool—her pool, she thought with a victorious grin—making long, lazy strokes.

A body like hers was anything but aerodynamic. Equipped with a bust that would make any mare jealous, and any stallion salivate, Trixie had always been well-endowed ever since puberty had left her with a body with more curves than anypony with a libido could count. She could feel the drag of the water pulling against her cantaloupe-sized breasts, the warm currents brushing across her nipples. Her plump ass, her second-proudest feature, was buffeted by the current. She could feel it jiggling and flexing in time with her strokes, the water flowing steadily around it.

When she finally came to a stop at the end of the pool, she felt her breasts smack heavily against her chest. She flung her head out of the water and flicked her back-length hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her head (and a flicker of magic). Rivulets of water streamed down her cleavage like a river through a canyon. She inhaled deeply, greedily sucking in the air that she’d been denied underwater.

The sound of clapping reached her ears. “Bravo,” a voice called—warm, rich, masculine. “Elegant, as always.”

Trixie opened her eyes. The bright morning sun beat down on the clean-swept patio, lighting up each piece of foliage and ceramic. Leaning back on a beach chair near the edge of the pool was a tall, white-furred stallion with one leg crossed lazily over the other one. His golden-blond hair was combed into a perfect wavy stream down his back, and the sunlight glinted off his jet-black sunglasses. He wore a floral-pattern shirt, with the top three buttons left undone. The curve of an impressive chest showed through the top, stretching the fabric until both pecs were clearly defined.

Trixie smirked at him. “More than any other mare?” she asked, a lilt in her voice. She hauled herself out of the pool, water streaming down her sides.

Prince Blueblood smiled back. “Who else can compare to my princess?” he asked. He snapped his fingers. “Help my lady dry off.”

A butler bearing a towel came jogging up to Trixie’s side. Trixie held up a hand and threw him a dirty look. “Excuse me,” she said, her horn glowing. “The great and powerful Trixie does not need the assistance of a servant in drying off.”

The butler quickly stepped back. Trixie rolled her eyes inwardly, then cast a quick drying-off spell. The magic rippled over her form, leaving her body and swimsuit—a skimpy, stringlike bikini that covered only her mare bits, and did absolutely nothing to hide the vast globes of titflesh attached to her chest—completely dry. She shot the butler a smirk, and made her way over to Blueblood, her hips swaying all the while.

“You’re here early,” she said. She cast a second spell as she walked, and felt a shimmer of magic rippling down her torso. Her purple bikini changed completely, covered up by a low-cut purple shift that clung to her every curve, highlighting everything and concealing nothing. A good three inches of cleavage poked past the neckline, her breasts squishing together as the tight fabric pressed them together. Trixie’s lip quirked upward. She knew Blueblood liked his mares dressed...tightly.

She bent down for a kiss, and he returned it. It was a light peck, really, but from the way his tongue wormed its way into hers, he was certainly hungry for more. “But of course,” Blueblood said. He stood up, drawing himself up to his impressive six-foot-two height. He smiled down at her, his biceps bulging against the confines of his sleeves as he did. He took a deep breath of the morning garden air and Trixie smiled back, watching as his shirt inflated impressively across his thick, chiseled chest. “Any night without you is far too long to wait.”

She leaned a little closer. She came up only to his shoulders, but could tell from the look in his eyes that he was deeply focused on her—or, at least, on her chest. She pushed her torso forward, not overtly, but enough to make it clear just how much her breasts strained against the fabric of her dress. Blueblood’s eyebrows went up, and he eyed her bust hungrily. “Really?” Trixie murmured, placing a hand on his chest and letting her bra-less nipples brush against his shirt. “Because I seem to remember a very handsome stallion spending the evening just hours ago.”

The next kiss was hungrier. Blueblood pulled her close to him, pressing her so tight that her plump breasts were squished against his tight, rounded pecs. His hand groped her ass shamelessly, feeling every soft, plush curve as his fingers sank into her flanks. She returned in kind, cupping the bulge his stallionhood made in his pants as she sensually grinded her thigh against his. As their tongues dueled, his lips suckling on hers, she could feel his member growing stiffer, longer, thicker.

When they pulled away, Blueblood’s pupils were dilated. He regained control after a moment, though, and simply nodded toward a table behind him. “My lady,” he said, executing a shallow bow. “Will you dine with me this morning?”

“Of course,” Trixie said, smirking. Blueblood smirked back, then clapped his hands and hollered for his staff. A horde of a half-dozen chefs and servants came rushing out from the kitchen, whirling through the tall glass doors and onto the patio bearing platters groaning with food and drink.

Blueblood may have fancied himself a romantic, but Trixie knew better than to expect him to seat her. She did so herself, plopping herself down in her chair, and feeling smug when she felt the sides of her fat ass squishing against the arms. Blueblood knew what he liked, and Trixie knew that she hit every checkbox on his list.

It was difficult to keep herself from drooling as breakfast was brought out, but she managed to keep herself under control. It wouldn’t do to appear slovenly before the stallion who was—quite literally—her meal ticket. After the loss of her wagon and show, Trixie had been reduced to performing “magic tricks” in bars and hovels. It’d been all but a miracle when Blueblood had appeared one night to see her show, and doubly so when he’d requested some “private time” with her afterwards.

Trixie knew what she was, no matter how warm and sultry the glint in Blueblood’s eye seemed to be. But she hardly cared. She had housing and clothing and jewelry fit for a queen. She was waited on hand and hoof, and pampered more than she ever had even dreamed in her life. And all it took was Blueblood’s happiness.

Ah, Blueblood. She caught his eye and raised a glass of orange juice—freshly squeezed, no doubt. Her “coltfriend” took only the finest of nourishment, a habit which Trixie only appreciated. He really was a catch of a stallion, she had to admit. Thoroughly self-obsessed, of course, but the bulging muscles, rugged figure, and obscene bulge at his crotch more than made up for it. Not to mention his boatloads of money.

He’d confided in her once, heavily drunk, that his figure was the result of heavy applications of magic. She’d had a nightmare that night of Blueblood in all his former glory: fat, slovenly, and thoroughly unsexy. She’d awoken the next morning cuddled up to an absolute hunk of a stallion, with a cock the length and thickness of her forearm draped across her thigh, and a pair of glasses filled with champagne worth more than a commoner family could make in a year waiting for her on her night-table.

If that was what Blueblood’s money could buy, then she had no compunctions with being his mistress. And besides, she thought to herself, curling a hand around his thick, muscled leg and squeezing. She rather liked the idea of being a Princess someday.

“You look ravishing, my lady,” Blueblood rumbled. He waited for his butler to finish cutting his omelette and then took a bit, daintily lifting each piece in turn to his mouth and chewing as though it were an art form.

Trixie did the same. The smells were succulent, the taste divine. “I do try to keep my Prince’s eyes happy,” she purred. She leaned forward, just enough so that the edge of her breasts caught the table, pulling her neckline down by a half-inch. Blueblood ogled her cleavage obviously, a silly little grin spreading across his face. “Maybe after breakfast I can make...other parts of him happy?”

It wasn’t entirely an altruistic request. It’d been a full fourteen hours since Trixie had been fucked, and she sorely wanted the attention. She shot Blueblood another smirk and moved her hand to the bulge in his pants, which she gave a gentle squeeze.

Blueblood choked on the sip of orange juice he’d been taking. “I wish,” he said, letting his butler wipe his mouth. He leered at her cleavage, without making any effort to hide his lust. Trixie could feel his stallionhood stirring and hardening against her palm, growing stiffer as it inched down his pant leg toward his knee.

He pushed her hand away and coughed. “But I’m afraid I’m indisposed this morning,” he said. “A very important meeting with Auntie and the rest of the monarchy regarding matters of state.”

“Oh, really?” Trixie asked. “What about?”

“Oh, a few matters of trade,” Blueblood said. He sounded rather smug. “Luna originally had no plans to invite me, but once I heard that the Canterlot opera budget would be addressed, I...persuaded Aunt Celly to open the meeting. After all,” he said, his impressive chest puffing out, “the Blueblood line has always been responsible for the arts in Canterlot. How could she not?”

Trixie smiled at him, her eyes half-lidded. “Just Luna and Celestia?”

“Oh, and two others, I think.” Blueblood squinted, thinking. “Those two other alicorns—Cadance, I think. And the purple one.”

“Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yes. Her.”

Trixie’s lip curled. She let her hand drift back to Blueblood’s crotch once more, and began to stroke it sensually. She smiled inwardly when she heard him grunt, feeling a damp, sticky wetness blossoming against her palm. “You’ll take me,” she purred, feeling his bicep and failing to reach even halfway around. “Won’t you?”

Blueblood nearly shook his head. Trixie caught his chin, though, and turned it toward her. She fluttered her eyelashes, and thrust her chest even further forward, so that nearly the top half of her plump, perky bust was visible.

Blueblood’s gaze was very firmly directed at her cleavage when he nodded and choked out, “Yes, of course.”

“Excellent.” Trixie smiled, pulled her hand away, and gave him a wink. Then she returned to her breakfast.

Oh, this morning was going to be fun.

In all honesty, Blueblood didn’t care one whit about the Canterlot opera budget.

Oh, he’d always made sure to whinny and whine about that and a few other pet projects. It was important, he knew, for one to compile a portfolio of sorts for other nobles to appreciate. But really, he wasn’t attending this meeting to discuss discretionary funding.

No; he was here because of the four big, busty alicorns sitting around the table who were discussing it. Blueblood smiled to himself as his gaze slid around the room, catching more than an eyeful of each mare in turn.

“—increase the welfare budget,” Luna was saying. “Especially for—”

Ick. Finance. Blueblood tuned her words out instantly, and mentally snorted at the worries of ponies who had to worry about money. So much nicer, he thought, eyeing Luna’s chest with lust, to share the company of such bountiful—beautiful mares.

He’d never, in all his adult life, found a mistress quite as well-endowed as his Trixie. The size of her tits wrapped around his member...the plush of her thick, bottom-heavy ass… Why, he could feel his crotch stirring to life just at the thought of it. Ever since he’d paid for the therapy that had left his biceps bulging, his frame towering, and his package fat and long, he’d found himself equipped with a libido that few mares could satisfy.

And yet the four alicorns sitting around the table put her to shame. Blueblood leered at his Aunt Luna’s breasts, softly rubbing his cock through his pants as it squished up against the edge of the table. She wasn’t even leaning forward—her breasts were simply big enough to fill every inch of the intervening space. Each one of them was larger than his entire head, and her nipples poked up obviously through the fabric of her dress. Blueblood wondered for a moment if anyone had bothered to tell her what a “bra” was, and then immediately decided that he preferred her without one.

Across the table from her was the newest of the lot—Twishine Speckle, or something, Blueblood thought. The way her rump filled her chair up was simply delicious, and the sight of her shifting uncomfortably as she felt her ass squish up against the arms of her seat just sent his libido roaring in approval. It didn’t hurt at all that the chair was quite clearly too small for her—alicornhood tended to come with a growth spurt that left its owner high and mighty over the commoners. Even with Blueblood coming to a respectable six-foot-four, this new princess loomed over him, the tops of her ears brushing against seven feet.

Beside her was the second-newest. Blueblood sneered as he imagined what the title “Princess of Love” might entail. She may have been a married mare, but he couldn’t help but wonder what those vast, plump tits might feel wrapped around his erection—or how those pretty pink cheeks might look puffed out around the fat flare of his member. She wore a shorter shirt than the others, opting to bare her midriff to the table. Not very royal, admittedly...but Blueblood couldn’t help but wonder with a flare of arousal how her belly would look pumped full and round of his princely cum.

And then came Celestia. Oh, goddess, Celestia, where was he to begin? He’d had an eye for her ever since his fourteen-year-old self had discovered what an “orgasm” was. Those breasts—so huge and soft that he could wrap both arms around them and only hug one. That ass—jutting out behind her by a good foot, and bouncing and jiggling obscenely wherever she walked. And she was enormous. An alicorn’s size grew with her age and power, and Celestia barely fit inside normal doorways anymore. She and Luna required specially made chairs to seat their royal rumps. Blueblood had tried sitting in one of those once, and had abruptly felt like a child. That wasn’t unexpected, really, seeing as even his head barely reached Luna’s nipples, let alone Celestia’s.

And those muscles, thick and corded and rippling with power. Blueblood licked his lips, feeling his engorged erection creep down toward his knee, tenting and bending the fabric around it. He could feel them in his imagination, her big hands curled around his back as he pushed her down to the bed and rutted her like the huge, fertile broodmare she was—

“—you think, Blueblood?”

Blueblood stumbled. Someone was addressing him? He whirled for a moment, then caught the pink alicorn looking at him expectantly.

“Ah. Yes, of course,” he floundered, tearing his eyes away from her oh-so delicious cleavage. A neckline six inches too low for any kind of modesty, and with a pair of fat nipples pressing delicately against her shirt. Oh, how he longed to give her exactly what she was asking for.

Cadance eyed him for a moment, then snorted. She shared a smile with Celestia, who managed to look ineffably innocent in response. Blueblood frowned for a moment, wondering if he’d missed something.

Ah, well. No matter. If they left him alone, perhaps he could return to his normal—

A sudden pressure on his crotch made him draw his breath in with a gasp. That drew his aunts’ attention—a fact which Blueblood tried to ignore, even as he ogled the way Celestia’s massive breasts bounced with the quick motion of her head—but he offered a tight, wan smile in response. In his lap, he could feel Trixie’s fingers, deft and slender, stroking across the obscene bulge in his pants.

He glanced to his left to see her. She smirked up at him, and tightened her grip on his member. He grunted softly, feeling his member stir to hardness as she rubbed him off through the smooth fabric of his slacks. Already, he could feel a warm stickiness blossoming against his over-stretched underwear.

No, he needed to tell her—but how could he, right in the front of his aunts? He tried to catch her eye, but she only grinned back. There was something in her expression that gave him pause—a hot sort of glare that left him both intimidated and more than slightly aroused. Biting his lip, he shared a trembling nod with her and turned back to face the rest of the room.

Oh, how he hoped that none of them could see it. Of course, fantasies abounded in the back of his mind—they would see it, they would join in, they would praise the magnificent size of his member—but realism shoved them back down. Blueblood swallowed as he felt his plump balls swelling, filling further with his cream as Trixie’s strokes became longer, more teasing. His eyes darted around the room, catching eyefuls of each of the alicorns as he dared.

Cadance’s tits would feel heavenly wrapped around his shaft. Trixie’s grip tightened around his shaft, and Blueblood swallowed. He could feel her magic caressing his ballsack, her warm, subtle touch massaging his cum-stuffed orbs as they swelled with size and arousal. He eyed Luna’s plump, prime ass, that massive piece of mare that would look perfect as a pillow for his package. Oh, how he would love to have that titaness of a mare beneath him on a bed, his spunk-filled nuts resting on her thick, chubby thighs as he hotdogged his length between her soft, kneadable ass.

He caught Twilight staring at him. Pushing away a shiver of trepidation, Blueblood met her gaze and sneered back, his lip curling in the aristocratic manner he’d been practicing since he was ten. Shifting awkwardly, she glanced away.

Oh, yes, he thought silently. You don’t meet my eye now—and you wouldn’t dare even with your lovely tits wrapped around my cock. He imagined her deepthroating his shaft, his flare bumping against the back of her throat, her tight lips suckling on his flare as he came pint after pint of thick, creamy seed down her throat. Or perhaps into her cunt instead, filling her up with as many foals as she could possibly carry. Surely an alicorn must be extra-fertile...

Trixie’s thumb and forefinger curled against the bulge of his medial ringjust so, and Blueblood choked.

His member contracted and lurched, spasming against his leg as he came. Thick shots of gooey spunk splattered loudly against the inside of his slacks, fat globs of his seed staining the fabric before oozing down his well-defined quads. His cock, trapped against his thick, bulging thigh by the tightness of his pant leg, continued to throb, erupting with more and more jizz until the bottom of his slacks were drenched, and a puddle of his cum was beginning to spread beneath his chair.

Blueblood swallowed as all eyes instantly turned to him. He tried to force a grin onto his face as his horn sparked to life. He hoped none of them would notice him trying to cast a clean-up spell that he hardly remembered from his private tutoring years before.

Celestia’s eyes were especially discerning. Blueblood felt himself trembling.

He coughed. “Shall we break for lunch?”

“Enjoying yourself, dear?”

Blueblood grunted as he felt Trixie’s arms curl around his waist. They lingered over his crotch for a moment, feeling the bulge sitting there. He felt a momentary pang of gratefulness toward Trixie for cleaning up his “mess,” but as with before, rationalized it as her simply “doing her duty” as his mare.

He felt her nuzzling against his shoulder, and turned. He caught her lips in a kiss, and she took it with gusto. He felt her breasts pressing against his chest and squeezed her against his muscled torso; her tongue lashed against his, her toes curling in delight as she suckled fiercely on his lips.

When he came away, Trixie was smiling at him. Blueblood smiled too, and replied loftily, “Always, when I can share your presence.” He gave one of her fat tits a squeeze, and winked.

Trixie’s smile flickered. “Oh, my presence, is it?”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?”

“Tell me, Blueblood.” Trixie’s hand curled around his ass and groped it shamelessly. A few onlookers blushed and sidled away. Blueblood blushed too, but he’d always been proud of his ass. Even when he’d gone in for his magical enhancements, he’d chosen to keep the wide, plump rump he’d gained from years of snacking and sweets. The mares he was with always seemed to enjoy it, and he quite enjoyed the way it filled out any pair of pants, especially now that the rest of him was muscled enough to do the same to any shirt or vest.

Trixie hummed thoughtfully as she kneaded his plump asscheek through his slacks. “Am I your Princess, like you called me in bed last night?”

As she continued to grope his rear, her other hand slid gently up his chest until it met a lock of his golden hair. Her fingers twirled around it, tugging gently on his scalp. Blueblood’s smile twitched.

“Of course, dear,” he said. He took a moment to truly appreciate the difference in their sizes—with nearly ten inches between them, looking down to meet Trixie’s eyes gave him a wonderful view of her bountiful cleavage. “You have the body and demeanor of royalty itself.”

Smirking, he bounced one of her boobs in his palm. It more than filled it, and had such a delightfully warm squish. But Trixie looked neither amused nor aroused.

She released his ass and hair, and moved her hand over one of his nipples. “Do I?” she said, raising an eyebrow. She shifted her weight forward, her nipples brushing against the top of his abs. “Compared to true royalty like the Princesses, I must seem as plain as a common filly.”

Blueblood’s libido leapt at the memory of his aunts’ tits, of their enormous, plump bodies and asses. Even he, though, had enough common sense to cough and reply, “No! I mean, not really.”

“Oh?” Trixie wiggled her rump a bit, sending her butt bouncing beneath her tight-cut dress. From his vantage point, Blueblood could easily see the way the material clung to her plump, rounded curves—although, some part of his stallionhood reminded him, they weren’t nearly as curvy as Celestia’s, or even Cadance’s.

Trixie echoed his sentiments. “I could see the way you were looking at them in the meeting. Don’t deny it, Blueblood dear,” she said, holding a finger up to his lips before he could respond. “They have very lovely bodies, and I would never stop my Bluey from satisfying his needs.”

She stepped back and clasped her hands behind her back. Blueblood was suddenly very aware of the absence of the pressure of her tits against his chest...and of the way the subtle arc of her back pushed her cantaloupe-sized breasts forward, her nipples straining against her dress.

“Still,” Trixie said. Her foot traced an uncertain circle against the carpet. “Compared to such creatures as those—I wonder if even I can satisfy such needs.” She reached up to cup both her breasts and frowned at them, even as they overflowed her slender fingers easily. She scowled. “Compared to that hussy of an alicorn, Twilight Sparkle...what do I have, really? A pair of tangerines compared to her melons. Ones that you seem much more interested in” She bounced her tits lightly for emphasis.

Blueblood wasn’t quite sharp enough to know how to respond, but he was aware enough to know that he was walking a very fine line. “You—you’re wonderful, Princess,” he said, trying to force a grin. Alicorn or no, Trixie was by far the most well-endowed mare to ever share his bed. He loved dearly to ogle every alicorn he could, and yet even he knew that they were beyond his reach. He’d had too many fillies leave his penthouse after feeling as though he wasn’t paying enough attention to them. Shallow whores, the lot of them, but Trixie was...more.

Quite a bit more, in fact, he thought. The way her hips and ass jutted out was delicious.

He smacked himself back to reality when he heard Trixie reply. “Princess,” she murmured, shuddering happily. “I do love that name. But I do feel as though perhaps I could be moreso.”

“How?” Blueblood leapt for the opportunity to get things back on track.

“You did mention once to me,” Trixie said thoughtfully, “that you’d received a magical operation of sorts. An assembly of enhancement spells.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “Perhaps there may be one available for mares?”

Before he could reply, she was already shaking her head. “No,” she sighed, pouting. “Surely it’s too much expense—”

“Not at all!” Blueblood stumbled over the words. Already, his mind was whirring, thoughts of a bustier, curvier Trixie filling his mind. “Money? Pah! Not a single bit is too much expense for my Princess.”

With a happy squeal, Trixie threw herself against him. Blueblood grunted from the impact, though felt his stallionhood tingling with pleasure as Trixie’s thigh thighs rubbed against it.

He grabbed Trixie’s ass and squeezed; she slid a hand between them and began to stroke his bulge shamelessly. He tilted her chin upward, and they met in a kiss. This time, Trixie was fierce, locking her lips with his and lashing his tongue with her own. He came away breathing hard, sweating slightly as her fat tits squished against his torso.

“I’ll have my accountants take care of the expense,” he said breathlessly. A thought occurred to him, and he smiled with glee. “In fact, we’ll both go in! I could use a bit of a pick-me-up myself.” He flexed one thick bicep, and beamed when he imagined it tearing through his sleeve like tissue paper.

Trixie nuzzled his pec, groaning lustfully. “Perfect,” she said. “More of my big, hunky beefcake.” She gave his plump ass another squeeze, and Blueblood moaned in return.

“I promise you,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of Trixie’s head. “There won’t be a stallion in Canterlot able to turn you down after this.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead and pulled his head back. She smiled up at him, eyes wide and glimmering.

“Oh, I know,” she said. “But there’s only one stallion in Canterlot whose opinion matters to me.” Her pointer finger trailed between the cleavage of his pecs, and her eyes met his. “Should I ask him if he’ll approve.”

Blueblood chuckled. “No need,” he said, and kissed her again.

Trixie chuckled as well. “You know,” she said. She gripped her breasts and squeezed, letting oodles of titflesh ooze through her fingers. She smirked seductively up at Blueblood. “It’s still brunch. Perhaps you’d be interested in tasting these tangerines after all.”

Blueblood couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.

Doctor Busty Heart whistled. “Lookin’ good, Prince Blueblood. Lookin’ real good.”

He struck another pose in the mirror, admiring his improved figure. “Of course,” he said haughtily, flexing his bicep. “Could any other pony be more stallion than me?”

An absolute hunk of a stallion grinned back at him from his reflection. The spells Dr. Heart had applied to him had worked wonders for his physique. The first thing anypony would notice was his chest: his pecs now bulged into two massive slabs of meat, rounded and powerful with striated muscle. His nipples, fully erect from the view of his reflection, quivered in the cool air of the operation room.

Just one of his biceps was a full twenty-four inches around—nearly twice the size of what he’d had before. Blueblood could have laughed. It may have cost him several million bits, but none but the most frequent powerlifters could match him in size and strength now, and he’d gotten all of this without even a single visit to a gym. Marvelous, really.

He bounced his pecs a few more times, his grin widening as they flexed a little bit larger from the exertion. Then his gaze fell down to his legs—or, more accurately, to what dangled between them.

Twelve inches of prime stallion meat—soft—slapped quietly against his leg. It overlaid a pair of nuts so large as to rival Trixie’s breasts in size; as his weighty cock pressed them against his massive, sculpted thighs, he swore he could feel them churning and swelling with fresh seed. Blueblood grunted, one hand curling around his enormous member as it stiffened at the sight of him.

“You really do look delicious, hun’,” Dr. Heart purred. She leaned against him and smirked at his reflection. “I do good work.”

Blueblood grunted as she stroked the inside of his naked thigh gently. Her thumb trailed across the contour of his swollen balls, and he felt them filling up even further with cum at her touch.

Her horn flickered with magic, and she licked her lips as she nuzzled his massive, bulging bicep. “Now,” she murmured, “about the matter of my...additional payment.”

“Yes, yes,” Blueblood grunted. He had no eyes for her; his gaze was reserved only for himself, and his godlike physique. He groaned as he felt his fully hard shaft, a full nineteen inches long, slap up between his thick pecs as he continued to jerk himself off. “You’ll get it in due time.”

“Sure, sweetie.” The doctor gave one of his hefty nuts a squeeze. Blueblood gasped, a twitch of his shaft sending precum drooling down his length. He’d never seen so much pre, even after his first operation. “So long as you remember who cooks your bacon.”

Her other hand wormed its way between his asscheeks and gave them a squeeze. Blueblood inhaled sharply when he felt her finger brush against his ass—and then he was whinnying, his hips jerking wildly as he came. Volleys of spunk, each one thrice the volume of any he’d ever cum before, erupted from his thick flare. They spattered against the mirror, covering his godlike reflection in oozing, creamy jizz.

Blueblood panted as the aftershocks of his orgasm ran through him, his body twitching as he continued to ogle his bulging muscles. He glanced down at his throbbing member and found, to his surprise, that he was still hard! His hand went to his shaft again—and was stopped short in Dr. Heart’s surprisingly firm grasp.

“Nuh-uh, big boy,” she said. “I’m not gonna make the poor janitor clean up any more of your load than he has to. No matter how delicious it might be.” She winked, then spun away.

Blueblood snorted, but released his shaft all the same. As he got dressed, he silently thanked his butler for having the foresight to bring a larger set of clothes to change into. Even these were tight, and he had no doubt he would have shredded right through his old ones. The thought did arouse him a bit, and he made a note to preserve his old wardrobe just long enough to burst out of it in front of Trixie. That should show her just how much more of a giant he’d become.

He exited the room with a spring in his step. Why, his shoulders actually seemed somewhat closer to brushing up against the sides of the door frame! And the ceiling seemed marginally closer—at his estimate, he’d put on another inch in height, bringing him up to an even six-and-a-half feet. Marvelous. More and more, he was coming to realize that this had been absolutely the correct decision.

He swaggered out into the waiting room, all too ready to bask in the adoring glows of the staff at his new, enhanced physique. Perhaps he would even strike a pose, flexing his bigger muscles hard enough to tear a sleeve, or pop a button.

And then he saw Trixie.

She was leaning casually against the far wall, just beside the front desk. Both of her arms were crossed over her chest, and a few strands of her long, luscious mane covered one of her eyes.

But Blueblood wasn’t looking at her eyes.

Trixie’s bust had been large before, but now it was absolutely enormous. Her breasts now resembled nothing more than a pair of small watermelons attached to her chest, their round, perfect curves begging for a proper stallion’s hands to caress and squeeze. She, notably, had not had a change of clothes, and it showed. Her dress had already been tight that morning, and absolutely failed to hold even half of her magnificent tits now.

She caught his eye and smiled. Blueblood froze, his jaw dropping. Lazily, Trixie began to swanker across the room, her wide hips swaying with every step. Her breasts bounced and jiggled as she went, two massive balloons straining mightily against her creaking, ripping bodice. The underside of her bust easily reached her belly button, and the sight of her overstuffed dress shifting across her bountiful curves was almost intoxicating. Smooth, shimmering fabric stroked and caressed her perfect hourglass figure, hugging tight to her model’s waist even as it clung to every perfect inch of her fat, bouncing ass.

Her ass—oh, but what an ass it was. If she’d had a well-rounded rear previously, her rump was now borderline obscene. It jutted out behind her when she walked, her larger cheeks bouncing and smacking against the backs of her thighs with every step. A smaller mare may have felt scandalized, but Trixie reveled in it. She swayed as she walked, a fluid, sexual motion that made her huge butt tremble and bounce in an alluring, almost hypnotic fashion.

She had not, however, added even a single inch of height to her otherwise bountiful form. So she felt almost tiny to Blueblood’s eye as she curled up against him and pressed her much larger boobs against his cheese-grater pecs.

“Now this,” Trixie purred, sliding her hands across his bulging, sculpted pecs, “is a stallion.”

Something about her tone sent gleeful shivers down Blueblood’s spine. The underside of Trixie’s breasts pressed heavily against his hip, and he felt his package stirring with a growing lust. This was the kind of mare that he, Prince Blueblood, deserved. And the new Trixie was absolutely nothing less than that.

“And this,” he murmured back, “is a mare.”

He grabbed her ass, seizing a generous amount of flesh as he whirled her to the side. Trixie squealed with delight as he leaned her back, holding her entire weight easily in one hand as her enormous breasts bounced and jiggled. He continued to grope her fat rump even as he leaned down and kissed her—first on the lips, and then in the center of her ten inches of obscenely exposed cleavage. Trixie giggled as he pushed his muzzle just between them and rocked it back and forth rapidly, vibrating his lips against her exposed titflesh as they rippled and smacked against his cheeks.

“I thought my Prince already had enough motorboats,” she said, smirking as he pulled away.

“Never, my lady.” Blueblood winked. He was groping himself shamelessly, one big hand rubbing and squeezing at the massive bulge in his pants. He cared little that the medical staff could see him—it gave him an exhibitionist sort of glee to expose just how massive he was compared to all of those pathetic, common little shrimps. Only a royal such as himself could pleasure himself before them with such impunity—and especially when he had a reason as good as Trixie to do so. Two such reasons, he corrected himself, ogling her bust with a lascivious lick of his lips.

He groaned with relief when he felt her soft, slender hand press against his bulging package. “My Prince looks excited,” Trixie said.

Blueblood grunted. His massive shaft was already beginning to tent his pants once more. It’d already gotten hard enough to push its way down past his knee, and a steady dribble of pre was beginning to drool from his tip. Oh, goddess, but his balls felt full. “You have no idea,” he groaned.

Trixie gave one of his fat nuts a squeeze through his slacks. Blueblood moaned softly, his hips jerking as his cock splattered his shoes with pre. His stallionhood was now so big, so obscenely huge, that his pants didn’t conceal so much as outline his package, the tight fabric pushing it even further forward as it hugged the curves of his swollen, cum-stuffed nuts.

Trixie tilted her head upward in a familiar gesture. Blueblood kissed her, and felt a roaring titan of lust stir in his gut.

Trixie nuzzled against his cheek, almost seeming to purr. “Shall we take our new endowments for a test drive?”

Blueblood groaned, grinding his engorged shaft tighter against Trixie’s plump thighs. “Oh, yes.”

Somehow, Blueblood managed to maintain enough self-control to keep from rutting Trixie before or during the ride home. There was, however, plenty of petting and groping, with Blueblood’s fingers finding their way around Trixie’s nipples as she stroked his mighty package, smirking all the while. As they made their way inside Trixie’s apartments, Blueblood savored the eye of everyone they passed. He sneered down at each inadequate stallion, subtly flexing his muscles and cock through his tight, form-fitting clothing. His hand never left Trixie’s waist, his fingers digging deep into the soft, plump flesh of her hips and ass.

Of course, once the door was closed behind them, all bets were off. Blueblood wasted absolutely no time in pulling Trixie into a kiss; she returned the favor, grabbing wildly for his rump as he pressed their bodies close together. She moaned into the kiss, their tongues dueling as she grinded her huge tits sensually against his abs.

His hands slipped beneath her shirt as if it were the most natural thing in the world; her fingers fumbled with the button of his slacks, eager to free the massive beast held within. They shed their clothes in what seemed like seconds, flinging those small, useless rags away to let the full glory of their massive bodies free.

Blueblood groaned as Trixie’s slender fingers explored every inch of his enormous, sculpted muscles that they could reach. He groped and squeezed her equally gigantic ass, nearly giggling with glee at the sheer size of her fat flanks. An alicorn she may not be, but any filly whose ass was too large to fit even his big hands around was surely a mare worth his time. And the warmth of Trixie’s lips against his just made him believe all the more that she was the perfect mare for him.

He could feel his enormous biceps flexing and bulging with power as he held her tight, squishing her breasts between his fingers. Trixie moaned as he let his mammoth member spring free, its eighteen-inch glory inching up between his pecs as it throbbed and drooled precum in anticipation.

Her palm curled around his shaft, pitifully small compared to its massive girth. “Hey there, big boy,” Trixie purred, nuzzling Blueblood’s thick chest. “I think someone’s happy to see me.”

“Absolutely,” Blueblood said. He cupped one of Trixie’s breasts like a balloon and gave it a light squeeze, his thumb brushing across the nipple. His enormous member throbbed between them, matting their fur with its steady drip of pre. “You look amazing.”

“You feel amazing.” Trixie wrapped both hands around his plump rear—the one soft part of him left, aside from his massive, musky ballsack—and pressed her muzzle between his pecs. She took a long, slow breath, tasting his masculine scent. “Mmff. Now here’s a hunk worth fucking.”

“As if I wasn’t before?” Blueblood said, only slightly teasing. He gave Trixie a smack on the ass, his big hand sending her huge rear jiggling as her fat asscheeks smacked together. “I would think that a stallion of my stature would be always worth your efforts.” Trixie yelped, then smirked back up at him.

“Of course,” she said. “But I like my colts with quite a bit...extra.” She gave his big, round pecs a squeeze and got up on tiptoes for another kiss. Once Blueblood’s lips had released hers, she pulled her fingers slowly down his chest, fingers splayed wide, until they were just over his groin, inches above his inches-thick member.

“And you,” she said huskily, wrapping both hands around his shaft. Blueblood felt a thrill when he saw that both her hands weren’t even big enough to cover the surface completely. “Have quite a lot of extra.”

She breathed on the underside of his shaft, her hot, moist breath leaving his hard pillar quivering. Then, crouching slightly, she took both tits in her hands and pressed them together around his erection. Blueblood nearly choked when he felt their soft, velvety tightness wrapped around his pulsing girth. His member throbbed hugely, and a glob of precum the size of a golfball splattered across Trixie’s muzzle.

“That’s right,” she purred. She licked most of the pre off her cheek, and shivered at the warm, salty taste. “My hunk of a Prince needs to get off, doesn’t he?” She squeezed her huge tits even closer together and began to pull them up and down his length. Enough precum had seeped down the sides by now that it was very well-lubricated, and her pillowy breasts slid across his engorged member easily.

Blueblood groaned. One hand went down to Trixie’s back, pulling her even closer to his crotch. The other went to one of his big, round pecs, and began to tug and play with his tall, erect nipple. “L-looks like I made a good i-investment.”

Trixie licked across his flare, slowly and sensually. She came away with a fat glob of pre sitting on her tongue, and swallowed it with a gulping moan. Blueblood groaned as her breasts slid across his medial ring, then down toward his base. Trixie’s massive breasts pushed down on his nutsack, his twin cum-orbs throbbing against the two plush, weighty pillows atop them.

“Oh, very much so,” Trixie murmured. She grinned up at him, and began to shake her ass from side to side. Her glorious booty bounced and swayed, her six-inch Cutie Marks rippling with waves of motion. Blueblood found himself entranced, moaning from both the show and the stimulation around his crotch.

Trixie’s “strokes” began to speed up. Soon, Blueblood found his hips jerking, forcing his member up between Trixie’s pre-slick breasts as she wrapped them even more tightly around his girth. His shaft throbbed and lurched, the pressure rising in his tightening nuts by the second. Trixie breathed hotly on his drooling flare, her tits pushing up and down his length again and again and again—

With a gasp of total pleasure, Blueblood felt his hips lurch and jerk forward. His cock contracted, then throbbed mightily, spraying Trixie’s bust and face with his hot, thick load. Fat ropes of jizz, each one more than enough to shame a normal stallion’s entire orgasm, stained Trixie’s fur dark, creamy gobs of his spunk oozing down her naked breasts and cheeks. Every twitch and flare of his shaft sent Trixie’s tits jiggling and bouncing around his girth, their constant motion only intensifying the pleasure of his orgasm as he covered her in his batter.

“Did my Prince enjoy—oof!” Trixie gasped as she felt Blueblood grab her by the ass and rudely heave her onto her bed, belly first. She landed with an undignified thump, every curve of her newly endowed body quivering and smacking together. A second later, Blueblood’s massive cock was weighing down on her huge, fat asscheeks. Even at nearly five inches in girth, his enormous tool was still “small” enough to find itself drowning in Trixie’s massive booty.

Blueblood’s biceps bulged, flexing with power as he held her down to the bed as easily as he would a child. Trixie squirmed as he flipped her over—then went rod-rigid as she felt Blueblood ram himself inside of her. He’d barely taken more than a second to line himself up with her entrance before forcing his way inside, his oversized stallionhood bulldozing its way into a marehood that had only ever taken an endowment of two-thirds its size before.

Blueblood scarcely knew what he was doing. All he knew was that even after orgasming, his balls felt hugely, impossibly full, and that he needed to empty them as many times as it took to feel truly satisfied. And Trixie felt so soft, so warm, so wet and welcoming that he wouldn’t mind spilling his load inside of her a half-dozen times, if not ten times as many.

His big hands squeezed Trixie’s tits, one in either palm. He pressed himself down over here, until his pecs were pressing against the backs of his palms and his muzzle was inches from her face.

“You got nice and plump for me,” he sneered, squishing her breasts together. “Maybe I should call you Titsie, hm?”

Trixie let out a gurgling moan as his rock-hard member bottomed out inside of her again. Blueblood’s heavy balls slapped against her rump, leaving her huge Cutie Marks jiggling from the impact.

“Fuck me!” Trixie demanded, her cheeks turning red with arousal. She glared at him, and bared her teeth. “If you’re so big, Prince Blueballs, then fill me up properly!”

Blueblood snarled. He pulled his engorged member out of her until his thick medial ring was prodding against her tight pussy lips once more. Then, baring his teeth in a bestial grin, he plunged his way back inside of her, filling up every corner of her warm, wet depths with his flaring shaft.

“Fill you up?” he panted, thrusting inside of her again and again. He seized her by the legs and squeezed her thick thighs as he pulled them around his waist. Trixie yelped as he speared her on his cock, her huge breasts smacking together with every thrust, two massive globules of flesh whose rippling and bouncing were near hypnotizing. Blueblood ogled them gleefully, his cock growing all the harder when he realized that those two enormous tits belonged to him.

“Is that what you want?” he growled. “To be my little cum-slut? For me to pump you so full of seed until you can barely walk?”

“Shut up and fuck me!” Trixie snarled. She started thrusting back, pounding his crotch with her fat asscheeks. Blueblood moaned as the fat of Trixie’s rump wrapped around his base, even as his flare twitched and lurched inside of her tight, hot cunny.

His balls slapped against her rear as he drove himself inside of her once more. His nuts sloshed and churned, swelling past the size of oranges as they filled up with more and more of his virile, princely seed. “That’s right,” he grunted, pressing his muzzle against hers as she glared defiantly up at him. Her tits smacked against his chin, and he savored her moan of pleasure when he felt his flare scraping against her walls. “You’re my cute little whore, Titsie, and there won’t be a stallion who can fill you up better than royalty like me.”

“And you won’t ever find a mare with bigger curves than me,” Trixie said back, sweat streaming down her face. “And if you don’t fill me with enough spunk to make my ass twice the size, I’m leaving you forever, pretty boy.” She darted up and planted a kiss on his mouth; he took it with gusto, latching onto her lips and pushing his tongue into her mouth as he rutted her like a two-bit mare. Trixie took it eagerly, and pushed back, their tongues wrapping together as his hefty balls slapped against her ass over and over again.

Blueblood grunted loudly as he came. His shaft flared inside of Trixie’s cunt as he bottomed out inside of her for a final time. Volleys of his spunk, each one larger and thicker than the last, splattered against her warm, velvety insides. Trixie moaned into the kiss as her marehood spasmed, her walls clenching as she came alongside him. Her back arched in pleasure, pressing her tits tighter against his chest until her bust was squished out across his bouncing, flexing pecs. Blueblood just kept groaning, bucking his hips as he unleashed load after load of his hot, thick cum, a torrent of spunk roaring into Trixie’s cunny as he came what felt like literal buckets.

By the time he’d finished, Trixie’s belly had noticeably rounded out from the near-gallon of spunk he’d released inside of her. Blueblood collapsed onto the bed beside her, the mattress shaking and sinking beneath his enormous, muscled weight. Trixie groaned as his lips pulled away from his, her marehood spasming once more as a final lurch of his shaft filled her bloated belly with even more of his copious, virile jizz.

“F-fuck,” Blueblood slurred. He felt like his head was spinning, his thoughts and eyes glazing over with pleasure. An incredible afterglow was spreading through his veins like none he’d ever felt before. His massive cock, surely larger than any commoner’s in all of Equestria, shuddered one last time in Trixie’s cunt before falling still. His balls, still fat and heavy, but noticeably less than before, squished lightly between his tree-trunk thighs. “Th-that was good.”

Trixie grunted. “Was?”

Blueblood just moaned. He wrapped his big hands around Trixie’s bloated belly and pulled her close so that her head was pressed between his big, round pecs. One hand strayed up to her bust and began kneading at her soft, ample titflesh as the other drew wide circles across her sloshing cumgut.

Grunting and groaning, Trixie wriggled free of his grasp. She squirmed her way atop him, then planted a firm hand around his shaft.

“We are not finished here, dear Blueballs,” she said, sneering. She met his eye, and Blueblood felt his heart flutter. “You’re going to fuck me ‘till you’re dry, and then you’re going to fuck me some more. Understand?”

Blueblood reached up and grabbed her by the arm. Trixie yelped as his big hand wrapped entirely around her forearm before yanking her back down to the bed. He resumed his position atop her, his huge body pressing hers to the bed as his enormous cock pushed up between her tits. It was already drooling pre again, a steady river of arousal that leaked between her cleavage and ran onto the sheets.

“So,” Blueblood growled. “Does my little cumslut want me to rut her all night?” Trixie nodded quickly. Blueblood smiled. “Good.”

He reached down between his legs and gave his engorged nutsack a squeeze. Already, he could feel his balls filling up with cum once again, their production increased all the more by his operation. His smile widened.

“Then,” he murmured, “my dear Trixie, I have every reason to obey.”

Chapter Two: Canterlot's Colossal Couple

Trixie had decided she rather liked being looked at.

Oh, she’d always known that she enjoyed a good ogle or two. It did a girl’s ego wonders to have a stallion’s gaze go straight to her cleavage, or (when she’d worn yoga pants in school) to the thick, bulging cameltoe that just begged for a good stuffing. She’d only rarely actually stuffed it, though; with a body like hers, she’d always been able to be choosy with her partners.

Even so, she’d never quite lost the thrill that came with using her body to keep others’ attention. It was a skill she’d practiced for more than half a decade by no. Lean slightly forward, just until your breasts are straining against your top, and watch as his eyes dart down to your cleavage. Throw a sway into your step, and let your plump ass wobble and shake, drawing the eye of every eligible colt at the party.

And it was, she reflected smugly, every colt.

She and Blueblood had gone for hours after his first orgasm. They’d tried every sexual position she’d known, and a few even he hadn’t shared before. Blueblood’s lust had seemed almost insatiable; it had seemed like his stallionhood was making up for years spent at a “mere” foot in length. His grapefruit-sized nuts had seemed bottomless, pumping cum into her every orifice until she’d had to haul around a gut the size of a basketball, constantly sloshing and squishing with his plentiful spunk.

They hadn’t woken until past noon. That was one of the things Trixie liked best about sleeping with aristocracy. Unlike common ponies, nobles didn’t have to wake up at six o’clock to haul themselves into work. And the things that they did have to wake up for were much more pleasurable than chores or errands.

Trixie sauntered into the garden party with her chin up and a smug grin on her face. Her elbow was locked around Blueblood’s, his huge, muscled arm wrapped surprisingly gently around her own, slender one. She brushed his bicep with a thumb and felt a shiver of pleasure tingle up her spine. There was so much strength bound up in the curve of his twenty-inch arms, so much power. She would have laughed, she would have cackled, but instead she only smiled.

They passed beneath a trimmed hedge arch, the sweet smell of roses in the air. A smartly dressed stallion perhaps ten years her senior stepped in front of them, holding up a clipboard.

“Might I present you, sir?” he asked. Trixie almost sneered. Blueblood towered above him, this slight, pathetic little thing. Why, his waist looked only a few inches wider than a single one of Blueblood’s arms, let alone those godlike thighs. She eyed his crotch with scorn, and saw nothing but smooth, unruffled velvet. Blueblood’s groin, on the other hand, bulged obscenely, the material wrapping around his enormous package until it had all but outlined each curve of his shaft and balls.

She curled her arm a bit more tightly around her date’s, and let her smirk widen. All around them, she could see ponies turning, pausing, staring at the couple waiting at the entrance. Let them look, she told herself. Let them see just how pathetic they are compared to us.

Blueblood drew himself up to his full height, his chest puffing out proudly. Even a last-minute tailoring job hadn’t been enough to let his dress shirts out enough to contain his full, godly physique. Rippling muscles showed through the fabric of his sleeves, and his pecs strained visibly against the upper buttons of his shirt. “Prince Blueblood,” he rumbled, his voice deep and rich. “Accompanied by Ms. Trixie Lulamoon.”

The weedy stallion—more of a colt, really, Trixie decided, especially considering his head only just reached Blueblood’s shoulder—coughed, then nodded. “Prince Blueblood!” he announced, turning on his heel to face the rest of the party. “And his guest, Ms. Trixie Lulamoon.”

All heads turned to face them. Trixie and Blueblood shared a smirk, and then confidently strode forward.

So many ponies were staring. It was absolutely wonderful. Trixie had always known she’d been a looker, but the new-and-improved “her” must be absolutely impossible to ignore. She might not be wearing pants, but her tight-cut dress clung closely enough to her rear that it highlighted every shimmy and bounce of her oversized rump. A pair of asscheeks larger than some other mares’ heads bounced and rolled with her every step, overflowing handfuls of booty-flesh smacking against her thighs and each other as she swayed to an imaginary beat.

But her ass wasn’t even her best feature. No; that honor had to go to her bust. And from the stunned looks of the stallions, and the wide, envious eyes of nearly every mare, every single pony there knew it, too. Trixie had made sure to choose just the gown for the occasion: a purple, silk shift that reached only up to her nipples, while leaving a full seven inches of cleavage free. Her breasts, so soft, so squishable, so plump, jiggled enticingly at every colt who so happened to glance in her direction.

Even as they walked, Trixie could catch Blueblood glancing down at her copious cleavage once every few seconds, as if to remind himself that it was still there—that she was, in fact, still real. She slid her hand even further through his arm, and stroked his fat bulge lovingly. She could already feel his stallionhood stirring, his package swelling with fresh seed. She gave him a little squeeze, and savored his cute little gasp. Oh, the rush it gave her to know that she held a Prince’s libido in the palm of her hand.

Not to mention all these cute little nobles. She met one well-dressed stallion’s eye and smirked. A little twitch in his direction set her enlarged ass bouncing into the air; an “innocent” turn to her left set her tits smacking heavily against her chest. Trixie savored the way his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. She savored even more the bright-red glare of the mare beside him, her fingers trembling around her champagne glass as Trixie glanced over her own, much more modest figure.

All her life, she’d fantasized about the status and power that only the highest echelons of society could even dream of. And now that she had it, she found that she could still sneer down on those below her. A noblestallion’s wife? Why, she looked like a filly beside Trixie, hips barely wide enough to bear a single foal, and breasts barely big enough to fill a palm. Trixie made them all look pathetic. She reveled in the weight of their gazes on her bust and rear, almost salivating over the way she so easily dominated their poor, slender minds. She’d once known what it was to be well-endowed, but Blueblood had shown her what it meant to be truly wealthy. Size, lust, and sex without bound. She rather liked the sound of that.

“Prince Blueblood! Goodness, you’ve certainly had some work done.”

Blueblood stopped in his tracks. Trixie stopped with him, a momentary twinge of annoyance surging in her chest at being interrupted. She soon quashed it, though, in favor of the thrill of being able to show off personally. Princess or no, she’d always been one thing above all: a showmare. And tonight, she knew, was showtime.

A dapper-looking stallion had stopped in front of them. He wore his bright blue mane in a series of braids down his back, and his bright white fur had been cleaned until it was sparkling. He squinted pleasantly at Trixie through a monocle, then nodded back up at Blueblood. Standing at a solid six-foot-two, he looked as though he could have rivaled the prince for height—at least before his operation. And while he looked fit—which itself was a wonder in this pit of noble indulgence—he looked skinny enough beside Blueblood as though he could be snapped like a twig.

“Fancy Pants,” Blueblood rumbled, nodding in return. “A lovely party.” Trixie shivered, having to focus to keep her fingers from drifting between her thighs. That voice. So rich, so deep, so utterly sensual. Oh, she’d always known that she’d had an aptitude for seduction, but Blueblood’s new body was so purely powerful that his voice itself was an aphrodisiac for her. It was fair enough, she decided with a smirk, seeing as a mere glimpse at her over-stuffed dress could bring his stirring package roaring to life.

Glancing up, she saw Blueblood smirk too, directed down at the smaller stallion. “And yes,” he said, his cheeks dimpling. “I have had some work done. Is it really so obvious?” He held up a massive arm and gave it a “light” flex. His bicep bulged, visibly straining the tight fabric around it. He chuckled, then let his arm fall again—though not without letting his open hand brush subtly across the melon-sized bulge of his package. Fancy Pants glanced down, his eyes widening at the enormous tent that was slowly snaking its way down Blueblood’s leg.

“O-oh, yes,” Fancy said. “Quite impressive. And Ms. Lulamoon,” he said, offering Trixie a short bow. “You also seem to have become quite a bit more...bountiful than the last time you attended one of my parties.”

“But of course,” she said, teasingly. “A real stallion like my coltfriend deserves a large enough mare to suit his desires. Wouldn’t you agree, Blue?”

Blueblood reached a thick arm around her waist and rubbed his hand across her butt, reaching his fingers around a heaping handful of assflesh and squeezing. “Oh, but of course,” he said, grinning lecherously down at Trixie’s bountiful figure. “My dear Trixie has always dreamed of a figure suitable for a princess. It was quite literally my pleasure,” he continued, giving his stiffening cock a noticeable flex in his dress slacks, “to provide the opportunity. The royal coffers are always open to a good cause, after all.”

Trixie giggled in her best shallow manner. “Oh, yes,” she purred. She turned to hug Blueblood’s side, letting her enormous breasts squish out across the sculpted steel of his torso. Fancy Pants’ eyes bulged even wider, his cheeks reddening as Trixie stroked Blueblood’s swelling cock through his pants while rubbing her stiff nipples against his obliques. She took a good handful of his ass herself, and kneaded it like dough while nuzzling her cheek against his bulging, rounded pecs.

Blueblood turned back to smirk at Fancy. “I presume you’ve brought a date as well?”

Fancy nearly choked, hastily averting his gaze from Trixie’s cleavage. Trixie merely smirked. Oh, he’d been leering quite nicely at her. She knew about him from nights of bedtime gossiping with Blueblood; he was quite wealthy, but nowhere near Blueblood’s level of financial status. A pity. He might actually be worth her interest if he were four inches taller, a hundred pounds heavier, and equipped with a cock thrice his current size.

It did tent his pants quite nicely, she admitted to herself (even as she congratulated herself on being an aphrodisiac for apparently a full half of the party’s guests), but Blueblood had long since ruined her for other, more “average” stallions. Even well-endowed ones like Fancy were hardly worth her time when she had access to the body of a god—and a purse that could purchase for her the body of a goddess to boot. She slipped a hand around one of her breasts and nearly moaned, squeezing it lightly and feeling tingles of prospective pleasure flowing through her body.

“Oh,” Fancy said, red-faced. “Yes, of course. Fleur?”

“Darling.” A slender, aristocratic-looking mare strolled into the group. She wore a tight-cut pink dress all but bound around her own ample bust. Between her high cheekbones, her perfectly smooth face, and the hourglass curve of her waist into her wide-set hips, Trixie imagined that she would have been the belle of the ball at any other party.

She recognized Fleur, of course. Most of these other nobles had bored her, but the other mare had managed to get under her skin more than once in the time since Blueblood had brought her into high society. Something about the way she looked at Trixie, as if with some manner of concealed loathing, just made Trixie’s skin prickle with irritation. Because of that, it was absolutely delicious to see her reaction to Trixie’s new, overly endowed figure.

Fleur’s gaze grew chilly. Trixie’s smile only widened. She clasped her hands over her groin in what she hoped came off as a demure sort of gesture - except she made sure that her upper arms pressed against her copious volume of breastflesh, squishing against her bust by virtue of its sheer, overwhelming size. She smirked when she felt Blueblood’s big hand curling around her waist, grasping her plump, juicy rear in a shameless, obvious fashion.

“Prince Blueblood,” Fleur said, curtsying in his direction. She all but ignored Trixie. Instead, she turned to glare at her date, who had his eyes once more hopelessly lost in Trixie’s cleavage. “Fancy, we missed you in the charity auction. Really, perhaps we should go socialize with some of the diplomats.”

“Really, now?” Blueblood sounded amused. “And just when we were beginning to socialize ourselves.” He casually began to knead the side of Trixie’s expansive rump, her vast, globular ass jiggling and squishing between his fingers. Fancy Pants swallowed visibly.

“Y-yes, dear,” he stammered, his eyes firmly planted on Trixie’s bust. “Perhaps a...few more minutes couldn’t hurt.” Trixie smiled, and squeezed her forearms a little closer. Fancy Pants’ eyes nearly popped when he caught sight of her nipples straining against the fabric of her dress, each one nearly the width of her pinkie finger.

Fleur gritted her teeth. “Forgive me,” she said, curling an arm around Fancy’s waist. Her hand brushed against a very obvious tent at his crotch, which seemed to be growing stiffer by the moment. “I don’t wish to offend with my date’s...wandering eye.”

“Oh, not at all,” Blueblood rumbled. He flexed an arm and grinned down at the weaker, smaller Fancy. Fancy’s knees seemed to tremble when Blueblood’s bicep swelled up nearly two-thirds as wide as his entire waist. “Bodies like these are meant to be looked at, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, of course.” Trixie snuggled in closer to Blueblood’s side, loving the power and hardness of his pecs against her head. She groped around his plump, expansive rear even as she began to stroke gently at the obscene bulge snaking down his pants. Fleur’s eyes widened even further as Trixie teased Blueblood’s throbbing erection, letting his plump, girthy meat fill her palm and more. She gave it a squeeze, and Blueblood moaned, a dark stain of copious precum blossoming across his shins.

Trixie’s smile widened, and she turned her rump closer to face Fancy, making sure to grind her thick thighs along Blueblood’s bulge. This could be yours, she wanted Fancy to think, this godlike body, this goddess of a mare. She flexed her ass, one globular cheek at a time, and nearly moaned when the vibrations sent golden veins of pleasure twisting through her body.

Except he couldn’t have it, she thought smugly. Because all of that wealth, all of that access, all of that power belonged to Blueblood.

And Blueblood belonged to her.

Fancy wasn’t the only one with an eye for beauty, though. Fleur herself was eyeing Blueblood’s sculpted, bulging muscles with an expression somewhere between awe and bestial, barely restrained lust. Trixie felt his enormous cock throb mightily beneath her palm, and Fleur gulped, her gaze bobbing up and down with the flaring of Blueblood’s engorged shaft. Trixie smirked at her as she traced a finger lightly around the outline of Blueblood’s fat, cum-filled nuts. She could see it in Fleur’s irises - that hunger, that lust, that need to guzzle down every drop of his thick, virile cream until her belly was bulging with his spunk, and her cunt was dripping with his seed.

Nuh-uh, Trixie promised silently, meeting Fleur’s wide eyes, smirking at the blush on her cheeks. You can have your pathetic little colt, hussy. This slab of stallion is all mine.

Fleur seemed to snap to consciousness. Flushed and stammering, Fancy Pants put up little resistance as she dragged him away. Trixie paid them no heed. They were beneath her, beneath them. She felt Blueblood’s strong arms curl tightly around her, and she lifted her head into a kiss. His lips suckled fiercely on hers, each partner’s hands roving lustfully across the other’s bountiful, perfect body. She pressed her huge, melon-sized breasts against Blueblood’s sculpted abs, then moaned when Blueblood began to suck on her neck, humping his massive, swelling erection against her soft, curvaceous body.

Somehow, she managed to wriggle free. “Ah-ah,” Trixie purred, wagging a finger up at her Adonis of a coltfriend. “In public? You shameless colt.”

Blueblood gaped down at her. “Bah,” he grunted, once he’d recollected his thoughts. His cheeks were flushed, too. Trixie could make out every inch of his engorged package straining against his slacks, outlined so tightly that it’d take a blind pony to miss them. “They may be nobles, but they’re commoners compared to me. I can do what I please. And that means” - he reached for Trixie again, leaning toward her lips - “taking what’s mine.”

Trixie nimbly stepped out of his grasp. “Such a big, horny stud,” she purred, glancing up at him with half-lidded eyes. She pulled her hands behind her head, a motion that pushed her huge, juicy breasts forward to fill Blueblood’s lower field of view. He licked his lips, eyeing them fiercely. “You just can’t get enough of this, can you?”

Licking her own lips, she let her hands trail down the sides of her bust, then in around her waist. By the time that she’d wrapped her fingers lovingly around her fat, bulging rump, Blueblood was nodding along with her. He almost resembled a puppy dog, really.

“And you will.” Going on her tiptoes, Trixie darted up to plant a kiss on his chin. “Later. There is a time for fun.” She reached forward and stroked his massive bulge gently. Blueblood groaned lustfully as she gave one of his cantaloupe-sized nuts a loving squeeze; his pillar of meat throbbed in his silk-smooth slacks, spurting another hefty flood of pre down his pant leg. Trixie smirked, and cast a quick Clean-Me-Up spell.

“But there’s also,” she finished, “a time for showing off.” She finished the spell and slid a hand across his thigh. Thick, bulging, corded muscle pushed back, flexing so wide, so thick, so strong that she shuddered with pleasure at the very touch of it. She continued to smile up at Blueblood, gently - though perhaps not sensually - caressing his hip. “And I do believe that the two of us need to show the rest of these nobles just what kinds of bodies true power can buy.” She reached up to innocuously adjust her neckline, pulling it down another two inches over her overstuffed bodice in the process.

Blueblood grinned fiercely back. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he rumbled. Trixie yelped when he gave her a hard, firm smack on the rump. The force of it sent her two huge buttcheeks bouncing and jiggling; the vibrations that each sent through her thighs and crotch made it difficult to ignore the rising arousal and heat swelling at her own loins. She bit her lip and pressed her legs together, which only made her plump thighs tease even harder against her puffy marehood.

Blueblood didn’t appear to notice. Instead, he merely smirked down at her and said, “I do believe I spotted some old rivals of mine by the punch. I do believe I’ll pay them a visit.” He flexed both arms, approaching a most-muscular pose that did wonders to show off his huge, amazing physique. Chuckling, he added, “If they thought I was big before...well.”

“They’re in for an impressive surprise,” Trixie finished for him. She grinned. “And all those poor mares over by the buffet. Such a pity it would be if a much prettier mare came along and teased all those stallions’ eyes away.”

Blueblood laughed,  rich, belly-laugh that sent his pecs bouncing and his erection throbbing. “Oh, yes,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “But don’t forget that you’re my date, Ms. Lulamoon.” He hugged her to his chest, one big hand cupping her enormous breasts.

Trixie chuckled. “Of course not,” she purred. “Just a bit of fun. And I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing just how many stallions wish they could be you.”

“All of them, my dear,” Blueblood said. “All of them.” With a wink, a squeeze, and a final kiss, they parted.

As she moved through across the pavilion, Trixie felt as though she were wading through a sea of wandering eyes. Every mare might be drooling at the sight of Blueblood, but she ruled the libidos of each stallion she passed. She savored the drops in conversation, the lulls in action as gazes drifted across her incredible bust. She grinned with confidence as she felt the dozens of eyes lingering on her fat, jiggling ass, which drew stares like a magnet, and even more erections. She’d never seen so many colts struggling to hide a boner before, not even in high school.

The reactions of the noblemares at the buffet table were even more delicious, though. They’d circled in their petty little ego battles for years, and then suddenly here came Trixie, a titan striding amongst the battlefield equipped with an M-cup bust and an ass half again as wide as the next largest. Their glares, their whimpers of inadequacy - all of them fueled her, assuring her that this, more than anything else, was what she’d been dreaming of all her life. To know that this upstart, “commoner” unicorn was not only above these egotistical, pathetic fillies in both connections and body. Oh, how it must rankle them to see her filling out her dress more than any of them could even dream to, how jealous they must be of a mare whose very body was more perfectly attractive than they could ever dream of attaining.

One by one, they left, each making excuses to avoid having to linger around Trixie’s divine figure. Trixie winked at each one as they left, seeing the green glittering in the backs of their eyes, and savoring their blushes with each lewd innuendo she made. Before long, she’d sent the lot of them scampering back to their woefully inadequate “dates,” and had the buffet table all to herself.

Trixie eyed the feast lustfully. She rubbed her aching stomach, realizing that she hadn’t had a thing to eat all day. As if that excused her next action completely, she tossed all propriety to the air, grabbed a plate, and piled it high with every luscious, succulent dish she could see.

Even after a full four months of her “royal’ lifestyle, Trixie hadn’t quite gotten over the range of gourmet delicacies that the upper class dined on. Moans escaped her lips as she stuffed her cheeks full of cream puffs, fruit-filled pastries, and elegant, creamy cheeses. One hand went to her belly, feeling it swell, as if by pregnancy, as she filled herself with each luscious offering that the buffet held.

Caramel drizzle and pure, liquid chocolate drizzled from the side of her cheek, running down across her copious cleavage. Her breasts were large enough that, even if she’d bothered to lean forward, the space between them was still long and wide enough to capture each drop of cream that dribbled down her chin. Trixie moaned to herself as she squished her breasts together, imagining all of the sweetness, all of the succulence of her meal melting into fat to grow her breasts and thighs and ass even thicker and softer, until she was so curvy that not a single mare in the kingdom could even hope to compare.

“Golly,” a voice behind her said. “With a pair of jugs like those, I don’t think y’all even need a napkin. So long as you’re planning on havin’ a little snack later.” She heard a chuckle, halfway through lowering a cluster of grapes between her stuffed cheeks. “Sure seems like you’ve still got room in there.”

Trixie stiffened. She knew that voice. That insufferable, grating country twang. She’d never expected to hear it again, much less in the middle of a Canterlot nobility garden party. She turned on her heel, her whole body rigid, to face..

Well. She hadn’t bothered to remember her name. But Trixie recognized the smirking, orange-furred country bumpkin before her all the same.

“Excuse me?” Trixie said. “Can I help you, miss…”

“Applejack. Come off it, Trixie.” Applejack raised an eyebrow and leaned against the side of the buffet table. “Gotta say, didn’t expect to see you at this high-falutin’ party.”

“I could say the same for you,” Trixie said, sneering. “Some of us have come up in the world enough to merit such an invitation. You, however…” She eyed Applejack’s plain, freckled face and red-checkered blouse with obvious distaste.

Applejack snorted. “Puh-lease. As if I asked to come. Nah; I’m Twilight’s plus-one.”

“Twilight?” Trixie said. “Twilight Sparkle is here?”

That got another raised eyebrow. “Well, yeah. What with her bein’ Princess Twilight Sparkle now, and all.” Applejack’s smirk twitched. “You ain’t the only one who’s grown in stature a bit. Though I can tell that you’ve grown in more than one way, ain’tcha?” She eyed Trixie’s bust meaningfully.

“But of course,” Trixie said. She cupped her breasts, one in either hand, and gave them a plump little squeeze. Leering at Applejack’s own relatively flat chest, she added, “A royal date requires a royal body, does she not?”

“Royal, huh?” Applejack chuckled. “What, you datin’ Princess Celestia or somethin’?”

“Prince Blueblood,” Trixie sniffed. “A stallion of proper and bountiful tastes who - “

But Applejack didn’t hear her. She was already doubled over, wheezing with laughter. Trixie stared at her in shock, not entirely sure how to respond. Soon enough, though, thankfully, Applejack came back up with a twitch to her smile and mirth in her gaze.

“So you’re that prick’s new toy, huh?” Applejack said. “Thought you’d plump yourself up for him, huh?”

“I never - “

“S’cute, really.” Applejack smiled lazily and stepped toward her. Trixie abruptly realized that, flat-chested or no, the other mare was easily taller than her by nearly a head - she had to be at least six feet, if not more. And, she noted with a dawning horror, while she’d only considered the top half of Applejack’s body, the bottom half was…

Applejack loomed over her, her teeth gleaming white past her lips. She’d casually laid a hand on her hips - which Trixie now realized were a good six inches wider than hers. Her pants, much like Trixie, bulged with the volume of her thighs, only even more thickly. The belt of her pants rode up over her hips, clinging tight to a waist that seemed almost perfectly concave.

Trixie’s dress and stockings may have been drawn tight around her huge, plump thighs, but Applejack’s were even moreso. Her pants were absolutely stuffed with a massive, muscular pair of legs that seemed to threaten to tear right through the fabric with each twitch and flex. Years of strenuous physical activity had gifted her with a body that was more than toned; it bulged. Applejack casually crossed one leg over the other, and Trixie stared at the shifting, flexing muscles that strained against the overlying fabric.

But her thighs weren’t even her largest feature. As Applejack turned, ostensibly to pick up a pastry from the buffet line, Trixie was brought face-to-face with the largest, heaviest, widest ass she’d ever seen. Applejack’s rump was absolutely enormous, two massive, globular spheres of flex that filled out her pants more than even Trixie’s plump rear could ever hope to. Where Trixie’s ass made regular mares look like anorexic fillies, Applejack’s rump made Trixie’s look like a joke. A pair of tightly-packed asscheeks, so round and wide that you could balance a glass between them, stared down Trixie’s pitiful attempts at being “well-rounded” and laughed in her face.

Applejack caught her looking and grinned. “See,” she drawled, taking a bite of her pastry, “there’s two kinds of ponies. Those who earn their figures” - she gave her enormous, muscled rump a slap and shivered with obvious pleasure when it barely even rippled - “and those who think they can buy ‘em.”

Trixie decided that she didn’t like the way Applejack was looking at her. Looking down at her, more like. But Applejack didn’t give her a chance to respond.

“Bet your coltfriend likes ‘em, don’t he?” Applejack said. She cupped her respectable, but still (relatively) tiny breasts and gave Trixie a wink. “I’ll bet he sure does. But see, you gotta wonder what he thinks when he looks at ya. Is he seein’ Trixie, his busty filly? Or a mare attached to a big ol’ pair of titties?”

“You,” Trixie growled, “have said just about enough.” She was surprised by the intensity of her voice, but kept going, a fire burning in her belly.

“I’ll wager I have.” Applejack sighed, then shot Trixie a wink. “This royal food ain’t quite good enough to merit my yappin’ with you, Trix. Though if I had to leave you with just one tidbit, it’d be this.” She gripped her fat, muscled rump in one hand and squeezed, grinning when her fingers barely squished into the surface. “Nice and firm, y’see? That’s from years of applebuckin’. You’re cute, sugarcube. But don’t think you’re gonna keep the eye of a stallion like Blueblood on you when all you’ve got’s a boobjob and a few too many desserts.”

Trixie’s eyes bulged. “Where,” she hissed, “do you get off on this kind of...immaturity? What gives you the right to even stand among the ponies at this party, let alone lecture me about such things!”

“Like I said,” Applejack drawled. “I’m Twi’s plus-one.”

“And where,” Trixie said, her voice saccharine-sweet, “is she?”

“Hello, Trixie.”

Trixie froze.

She couldn’t see her yet, but she could feel her. She could see her shadow trailing across the ground in front of her. She could feel the magic aura, huge and endless and monstrous, flickering and burning behind it. She could even sense her bulk, the weight of her very presence, as she balled her fists and gritted her teeth.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie bit out through clenched teeth. She very slowly turned, hoping for the thousandth time since her arrival in Canterlot that she would not, in fact, see her rival as an alicorn, larger than life and bigger and bustier than ever.

She came face-to-nipple with one of Twilight’s breasts. Just one of the things was more than thrice the size of her entire head, and the tightly drawn “dress” covering it (more of a rag, really, compared to Twilight’s enormous body) did absolutely nothing to hide the plump, thumb-sized nipple poking erect against its fabric.

Trixie’s gaze went up—and up, and up. Even in Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle had been an inch or two taller than her, but this was absolutely ridiculous. The top of Trixie’s head didn’t even come up to her cleavage, of which a generous sixteen inches (at least!) was on display. Sparkle had to be pushing at least seven and a half feet, if not eight. She may not have been too large to fit indoors (not yet, at least, compared to her fellow alicorn princesses—Celestia especially was known for having inopportune growth spurts and breaking even the extra-large doorways designed specially for her), but to any normal pony, she was more than big enough to tower.

And tower she did. Trixie felt herself shrinking, almost receding into herself as Twilight Sparkle casually loomed over her. The size of an alicorn was no common gift—but then again, alicorns were no common species anyway. And Twilight Sparkle was well on her way to becoming well and truly huge.

Oh, Trixie had believed her M-cup to be flattering? Twilight Sparkle likely was verging on a U-cup, with tits so large that they nearly covered the entirety of her torso. Trixie could cup hers and fail to hold them; Twilight could hug hers and nearly fail to reach the entire way around.

Really, Twilight’s entire body made Trixie’s look downright pitiful. Thighs so thick that they bulged out nearly as wide as her hips; if Applejack’s had been foalbearing, Twilight’s were brood-bearing. Given the size and tightness of her dress, it was little surprise that the outline of a fat, puffy marehood pushed against the fabric covering her crotch; Trixie only registered it with a dull surprise, noting somewhere in her head that Twilight was lucky to be with a mare, if only for want of a stallion to properly fill her.

Blueblood could fill her, she thought dumbly, scrambling for any kind of coherent thoughts or response. Blueblood, given another operation or two, could well and truly stuff her, make her squeal and beg for more of his monstrous shaft. She could see it all too easily, too: this prime, titaness of a mare, pressing him to a bed, riding his gargantuan cock as her massive, curvy body slapped and weighed against his, growing larger by the second—

With a muffled snarl, Trixie tore that image to threads and stomped it into the ground. No, she vowed, fuming silently. Blueblood was her stallion, her ticket to royalty, and she would not let some damned hussy like Twilight Sparkle outmatch her. Even if she did have all of the curves of an alicorn, and every inch of size that came with them to boot.

Twilight casually strolled around Trixie toward Applejack. The simple sight of her incredible body just moving set every visual nerve in Trixie’s brain alight with awe. Those massive, heavy tits, swaying back and forth like a pair of enormous exercise balls, could probably knock a stallion over if they so much as tapped him on the shoulder. And that ass. It filled up the back of her dress and then some; the cleavage between her buttcheeks was so well-defined that Trixie could make out the entire curvature of Twilight’s vast, succulent rear. Her pristine, globular buttocks had such tremendous weight to them that they slapped against each other as Twilight walked, even as the gigantic mare’s thighs rubbed and smacked together.

The very spectacle of it all set Trixie staring in awe, and reminded her of just why she’d requested that operation from Blueblood in the first place. What an aphrodisiac it must be to possess such size, to have every ripple of every inch of perfect, round flesh send tremors of vibration and pleasure through your entire body. From the hazy, lustful look in Twilight’s eyes as she moved, she knew it, too.

When Twilight took up a position beside Applejack, Trixie was astounded by just how tiny the well-built earth pony looked beside her. Applejack’s biceps were themselves enormous: sculpted, taut, and rounded from years of hard field work. Nothing compared to Blueblood’s, of course, but even his looked tiny besides Twilight’s. Her arms were enormous, nearly half as thick as her legs, and easily as wide as a regular pony’s waist.

And how easily Applejack fell in beside her! Trixie gaped at the soft, dreamy look on Applejack’s face as she stepped in beside Twilight, nuzzling gently into her side—or, given their size, her breasts. The tall, powerful farmer that Trixie had met in Ponyville seemed almost to let her presence be swallowed up by Twilight’s, the smaller, submissive partner wallowing in the sheer size of the other.

Subtly, as though she didn’t even notice it, Twilight reached down to curl an arm around Applejack’s waist. Even her big hand struggled to reach around Applejack’s heavy-set hips, which stuck out a good six inches behind Applejack’s back. Twilight actually sighed happily as Applejack leaned further into her, grinding her huge, muscular booty against Twilight’s thick thighs and crotch. She gave Applejack’s rump a squeeze, and grinned when that massive, firm rump resisted even her strength.

“Sorry,” Twilight said. The sheepishness of her words clashed violently with the power of her presence, not to mention the cool, casual confidence that size seemed to lend her tone. This was a mare who, if not fully grown into her power, was learning to navigate it with aplomb. She smiled down at Trixie, looking not apologetic in the slightest. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Applejack said, before Trixie could even react. Trixie sputtered, and Applejack quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “Just havin’ a friendly little chat with my friend Trix over here.”

“Trixie,” Trixie snapped, desperate for any thread of control she could hope to grasp. “Not Trix.” How dare Applejack look that amused!

 “Friend, huh?” Twilight reached over to the buffet table—her arm was long enough that it wasn’t even a reach for her—and picked up a champagne glass from atop the tablecloth. She took a surprisingly dainty sip, especially given how tiny the glass looked in her hands. Once she was finished, she slung her arm back around Applejack’s shoulder, the half-empty glass dangling between her fingers. “Well, I suppose it’s not too surprising to see you here, at least. I did notice that Blueblood was on the guest list.”

“Surprising?” Trixie said. “Of course I would come! I am his marefriend.”

Now Twilight was arching an eyebrow at her. “Of course,” she said, sounding so insincere that Trixie longed to sock her right in her huge, perfect breasts. “Well, don’t let me hold you two up, then.” She rolled her eyes. “Celestia said I had to meet with some visiting dignitaries, and I think I see them over there. Goddess knows I can’t avoid them for the whole night.”

She tossed back the rest of her champagne and sighed happily. As she stepped away from Applejack, she gave the other mare a hard slap on the ass. Applejack gasped, her enormous rump flexing as it trembled and bounced from the impact. Her gaze darted up at Twilight, who just smirked down at her.

“Catch you later, Applebutt?”

“You know it, Princess.” Applejack grinned back.

“Great,” Twilight said. “Hey, you mind holding onto this for me?” She winked down at Trixie, then placed her champagne glass right on top of Applejack’s flexed, heavy-set rear. Trixie bogled when she saw it standing nearly straight up, perched perfectly atop Applejack’s well-toned cheeks.

With a little wave, Twilight turned away to go. Trixie almost imagined she could hear the ground shaking beneath her footsteps, the trembling swelling as her alicorn’s body grew bigger and heavier and sexier—

Applejack snorted, and plucked the glass off of her rump. “That mare,” she said, shaking her head. “Likes to show me off too much. Anyways, Trixie—”

But Trixie had already turned the corner, vanishing from sight.

That bitch. That absolute, conniving bitch.

Trixie’s face burned as she stalked through the garden party. She rudely shoved aside a cluster of stallions who’d been whistling at her and ogling her tits, and barged past a hapless waiter with little more than a snarl.

She wasn’t sure, really, which one she meant. Twilight, or Applejack. Applejack had been the rude one, but Twilight had committed the unforgivable - ascension to alicornhood. All of that size, all of that power, all of that libido and sex appeal that Trixie had always dreamed of. Gone to some magical flub-up, rather than toward the great magician Trixie. She deserved it. She’d always deserved it. And Twilight had just descended to tell her that, as far as she’d come, she still had nothing compared to a real Princess.

In spite of herself, Trixie’s lips curled into a smile. Her fat ass bounced and jiggled as she walked, her asscheeks slapping together in time with the sway of her hips. Twilight may be a Princess...but Trixie owned a Prince. And there were other ways to royalty and power than alicornification.

She spotted Blueblood easily enough, especially now that he towered above the rest of the crowds. His size and bulk was made all the more obvious by contrast with the company he’d surrounded himself with: a gaggle of fawning, giggling mares, all of whom seemed unable to resist petting or groping him in all but the most intimate of ways. Trixie thought she saw Fleur among them, but Fancy Pants was nowhere to be found. Off to the side, though, a trio of red-faced stallions watched powerlessly as their “dates” were drawn away by Blueblood’s overpowering sexuality and musk.

And what musk it was. The bulge in his pant leg was absolutely obscene; why, in the absence of Trixie’s mess-vanishing spell, the buffoon had left his entire left shin drenched in precum, with a steady drool of the stuff seeping out into a puddle below him. Trixie gritted her teeth and balled her fists as she approached, doing her best to ignore the twin mares that were cuddling against Blueblood’s waist-thick biceps.

“ - and if you were looking for a real stallion, ladies,” Blueblood was saying, his rich, baritone voice echoing out over the crowd. “You really must look no further.” He struck a pose, flexing both massive biceps over his head, and the mares squealed in delight as his enormous shaft flexed and strained against the fabric of his pants in return.

That was Trixie’s cue. “Excuse me, dear,” she said loudly, wearing her best saccharine smile. She shoved one of those vapid-headed floozies aside and sauntered up beside Blueblood. Curling her arm around his waist - even her heart skipped a beat at the feel of that rugged, sculpted torso - she forced her grin even wider and said - “Would you mind stepping aside with me for a moment? I had a personal question I wanted to ask you.”

Blueblood blinked down at her. “Hrm?” He glanced from her, to his “ladies,” then back to her again. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore a direct request in this kind of situation. “Oh, um. Of course.”

He turned and shot his best pearly-white grin (a gift from the half-dozen hygiene spells he had his butlers apply every morning) at the party of whores surrounding him. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked Trixie, once she’d finished pulling him away. “I hope there’s no problem.”

“Oh, no,” Trixie said through her teeth. “None at all.”

She cozied up to him, and began to stroke his pre-stained crotch with one hand. As she did, she felt her horn glow, her magic caressing Blueblood’s heavy, grapefruit-sized nuts through the fabric of his slacks. He let out a choked, moaning sort of sound, and Trixie’s smile tightened.

“I think we’ve both been enjoying the...attention of our new statures,” she said sweetly. She rubbed at the line of his quads, feeling the thick, corded steel of his muscles. Goddess, but he was tall - and if her plan worked, they’d both only get bigger from here. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Blueblood chuckled. He took a hold of Trixie’s slender hand in his own, much bigger one, and held it to his throbbing erection. Even the slightest flex of his arm was enough to make his bicep bulge impressively, and he grinned lecherously down at her. “Does it look like I’m enjoying myself?” A beat later, he gave her a hard smack on the ass; she gasped, her eyes widening as her oversized rump smacked against itself and her own plump thighs. “Not to mention enjoying the view of you from across the party.”

“Mm.” Trixie slid a hand across his abs, idly sliding her finger between their cleavage. “I’m certainly enjoying being bigger, and I can tell that you’re loving it, you handsome hunk.” She craned her head back for a kiss, and he took it lustfully, giving plenty of tongue. When she slid back down into his arms, though, she frowned and said, “But from the looks of this party, there are still ponies bigger than either of us.”

Blueblood frowned back. Then he glanced to the side - and caught the towering silhouette of Princess Twilight just over the hedge wall. “Ah,” he said. He nodded.

Trixie purred, nuzzling against his thick, rounded pectoral muscles. “An alicorn is big, yes - but surely a great Prince deserves to be bigger? Especially one born deserving of his status, rather than an upstart.” She had one hand stroking his engorged shaft through his pre-drenched pants, and another tweaking his nipple through his strained, filled-to-bursting shirt. Even now, she knew how much he loved the way the buttons struggled to hold back the tidal flood of muscle and power in his chest; playing to that ego of his was the surest way to get what she wanted.

Blueblood was nodding already. So easy to manipulate, she thought with a smirk. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But…”

“But what?” Trixie asked innocently. She gave one of his fat nuts a squeeze, feeling the curve of his cum-sloshing orb through the painted-on fabric of his slacks. Blueblood gasped, then moaned, another river of precum splurting out from the bottom of his pant leg. “You’ve gotten bigger once before. Why not do it again? All of the money of the royal coffers is yours.”

“Not...nnff...all of the money,” Blueblood grunted. Trixie could tell that he was struggling to concentrate given the touch of her fingers on his cock, and the softness of her breasts against his arm. “A...stipend. It’s an...expensive operation.”

Trixie hummed thoughtfully. She gave his engorged shaft a small tap with her knuckles, and grinned when she saw it throb in return. “But surely it’s worth it?” she asked. “To stand not only head, but head and shoulders and chest above anypony else at these parties? To look down on the little colts around you and to know them for the powerless, weakling foals that they are?” She grasped his globular ass and squeezed, heaping handfuls of his rear oozing through her fingers. “Please. You and I both know that’s a future you can’t resist.”

Blueblood shivered. Oh, yes. She had him now. “It’s a rather...attractive idea,” he said. “But nopony has ever had the operation twice, let alone three times.”

“You,” Trixie said, “are Prince Blueblood. Trailblazer. Owner of the family name. You” - she walked her fingers up between the cleavage of his big, round pecs, making sure to keep his gaze on them (and wondering, with a thrill, what he might say when both were too big to be seen over properly) - “are a massive, wealthy, powerful stud of a stallion, and I won’t rest until your body reflects the towering, muscular, hyper-endowed hunk that I know and expect you to be.”

“Yes,” Blueblood said. He was staring at his pecs - or perhaps at the ground, far, far below - with a small expression of wonder. “Yes. It’s a wonderful idea. I’ll schedule it for next week immediately.”

“Next week?” Trixie purred. She slid a hand beneath the bulging “pouch” of his package and rubbed his thigh shamelessly. “Why not tomorrow? A stallion as powerful as yourself deserves timely service.”

He nodded. He was on autopilot now, she could see. She grinned. Time to finish it off.

“And of course,” she said, “a stallion of such stature would require a consort able to satisfy him.” She waggled her ass, watching her enormous buttcheeks slap together with a combination of apathy and disdain. “I may be one of the most well-endowed mares at this party - all thanks to you, of course - but surely you’d prefer a mare with a proper...Princess’ stature.” She watched his eyes, searching for his reaction.

From the spark that lit up on his face, she’d chosen her worlds well. “Absolutely!” he said at once. “You shall have a rump to rival an alicorn’s - breasts larger than any Equestria has ever seen.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her in front of him, so that the top side of his straining erection was pressed firmly between her fat ass. He curled both hands beneath her enormous bust and pulled her close. As he leaned down, his lips brushed against the top of her head, and he whispered, “I’ll have only the most beautiful mare as my Princess, after all.”

A thrill of excitement soared through Trixie’s veins. “Excellent,” she purred. She glanced back and up, and kissed him. “I’ll be looking forward to it, my dear.”

Chapter Three: Bigger Than Ever

Oh, being big felt wonderful.

Trixie cooed softly, both arms wrapping tightly around her chest. Following her operation, her breasts had been enlarged so much that each one more than filled her lap; together, they must have weighed nearly forty pounds. She hefted one on her arms, and moaned as the sensitive flesh tingled in her grip. So big...and so soft.

She wondered idly if there was even a cup size large enough to describe her new bust. Certainly the alphabet would have run out of letters by now, she thought with a self-indulgent smirk. Her fingers trembling with desire, she slipped one hand beneath the massive weight of her breasts and between her naked thighs.

Another moan slipped from Trixie’s throat, raw and needy. She wore no clothes—even the extra-size sweatpants the doctor had seen fit to give her for her “walk” home had torn off of her immense behind the second she’d sat down on the bed. The ragged shreds of her too-small coverings lay crushed beneath the weight of her fat, supple rear; if her breasts were gargantuan, her ass was positively titanic, each cheek jutting out a good two feet behind the small of her back. As Trixie masturbated, sighing with delight, her pleasured squirmings set her gigantic asscheeks jiggling and slapping together, the very sensation of it driving her even madder with lust.

Her tits were so soft—she could scarcely believe it. Even that floozy Twilight Sparkle had never possessed such breasts as these, she decided. Why, given another operation, she might as well be more tits and ass than mare! Trixie decided she rather liked that idea; as she craned her neck over the vast expanse of her enormous, gently jiggling boobs, she licked her lips. She could feel the oceans of milk sloshing inside their deep stores; moaning as her hand slipped deeper into her aching cunny, she pucked her lips, lowering them toward her fat, erect nipple—

A loud knock on the door burst her from her thoughts. Trixie jerked upright; on sheer reflex, she pulled her hand out from between her legs. It was dripping with clear, sweet-smelling juices, and her body trembled with pleasure just at the scent of it. She nearly grappled for a pillow, a sheet, anything—and then realized with awe that her breasts were now large and soft enough to cover her entire lap, including any impromptu “pleasure” sessions she might have…

Just as she was getting ready to explode at whatever hapless servant or butler had seen fit to interrupt her private time, the door smashed open—quite literally so. It didn’t burst off of its hinges, but it smacked hard against the wall, and when Trixie looked, the mechanism containing the lock had been smashed to smithereens.

In the hallway beyond, a tall, hulking Prince Blueblood slowly lowered his foot, smirked at her, and strode inside.

Trixie gaped at him as he entered. He was so...big. There was no other word for it. While he’d been buff before, this last treatment had turned him into a veritable wall of muscle. His shoulders were so broad that they nearly rubbed against the sides of the doorway; the top of his head approached seven feet, the very top of his horn nearly brushing against the top of the frame. His pecs were enormous slabs of beef that would have been a DD-cup on a mare; as it was, every twitch of his body made them flex with size and power. His biceps were as thick as medicine balls, and his thighs—“tree-trunk” didn’t even begin to cover those.

And his cock—

Trixie slurped up a wandering trail of saliva. She gazed up at Blueblood’s monstrous manhood with awe, her eyes wide and her mouth half-open. If he’d been big before, this was nothing short of titanic. The top of his flare peaked just past his chin; his massive, girthy shaft rubbed tantalizingly between his flexed, spherical pecs. Every step sent his member thrusting up between the cleavage of his chest; why, if he’d wanted to, he could have tilted his head slightly forward and sucked his own cock. There was an ample amount to be sucked, too—his chest and rod were absolutely soaked in precum, and his inches-wide slit constantly blurbled and glorped with more.

It wasn’t difficult, either, to see where it all came from. A pair of enormous testicles, each the size of an exercise ball, swung heavily between his legs. They reached down past his knees, pushing his thighs apart, and jiggled and sloshed whenever they bounced together. Even at his size, it was a wonder that he could even walk with those—and yet from the thick, corded steel comprising his thighs, quads, and torso, Trixie found herself failing to question it at all.

When he spoke his voice was deep, rich, rumbling. “Hello, my cute little slut of a princess,” Blueblood said, gazing down at her with a smirk. “Your stallion is home.”

Trixie, for what felt like the first time in her life, was utterly speechless. She was salivating, she knew, but she hardly even cared. This, she knew, was the stallion that she had always deserved. She found her eyes darting all over him, unable to focus on one part of his huge, glorious body. His muscles—his shaft—his massive, virile balls—

Smirking, Blueblood raised a finger and beckoned her forward. “Come, dear Titsie,” he said, leering at her. “Let me have a good look at you.”

Trixie loved to show off, but something in her bristled at his tone. “Excuse me?” she said, haughtily. “The great and powerful Trixie—“

He crooked his finger. His arm—oh, his arm. How it bulged. How his cock throbbed. Without even realizing it, Trixie found herself on her feet—and then slowly walking forward, hypnotized by the size of his body.

Or...tried to walk, at least. She’d faced little difficulty on the way back, due to being all but carried by a pair of put-upon servants. But now, under her own power, the new weight and volume attached to her body made itself known. Trixie’s eyes bulged as she felt her enormous breasts pulling her forward—and then gasped, her arms flailing as her even larger ass yanked her center of gravity back. Her thighs were thick enough now that they squished together with each step she took, forcing her to waddle more than walk. Her ass bounced like jello with even the slightest twitch of motion, rippling like a waterbed as she made her way carefully across the room. One wrong step would send her toppling to the ground—and as much as she loved it, she had no intention of being crushed by her enormous rear.

Blueblood laughed, long and hearty, at the sight of her waddling across the room. “Heavens,” he chortled, “but don’t you look ridiculous. A bit of trouble walking, my dear Titsie? A little too much weight in the rear?”

Trixie’s cheeks flushed. “I can walk perfectly fine,” she ground out. “I—“

Blueblood didn’t wait for her to finish. “Oh, hush,” he said, waving a hand. “More of that luscious rump means more for me to fuck. And my new...endowment requires an equally gargantuan ass to be properly pleasured.” He leered down at her, then held up a hand, palm-out. Trixie, thankful that she didn’t have to walk the last few steps toward him, stopped in place. Her three-foot-wide asscheeks slapped and smacked together, their mighty weight jolting her with the impact.

Blueblood chuckled softly. “No, walking is far from necessary.” He took a step forward, and the floor trembled beneath his weight, shaking as though beneath a giant. His every muscle flexed, and his drooling, massive cock lurched, smearing a good cupful of pre against his bristled chin. “You’re quite usable enough as it is, Titsie dear.”

He stopped mere inches away. Trixie’s pupils dilated, her cheeks coloring as she stared up at her lover’s form. Blueblood’s massive, muscular body loomed over her, a wall of meat both physical and utterly, unconquerably, sexual. From here, his spicy masculine musk was almost overpowering; the scent of his gargantuan, churning nuts felt like it could have made her cum on its own. She felt an overwhelming sense of awe, of submission, of need. She raised a trembling hand and left it there, hovering over Blueblood’s sculpted abdomen.

She caught Blueblood raising an eyebrow. Trixie flushed. “M-may I touch them?” she asked. Her cheeks burned. She was Trixie! The great, the powerful! She was no pathetic little whore, no mare to beg for some stallion’s touch—let alone the reverse! She took what she wanted! And yet...the simple awe-inspiring presence of Blueblood’s size, his power, his virility—it set her every nerve ending alight, and made her cunt scream for satisfaction. She needed to touch him—needed to feel the steel of his muscles beneath her fingers, to assure herself that he was real and not some dream from a young mare’s fantasies.

Blueblood chuckled softly. “Oh,” he said, “you’ll feel plenty when you’re under them.”

With a sudden motion that belied the bulkiness of his arms, he grabbed her around the shoulders. Trixie couldn’t prevent an uncharacteristic squeal escaping her throat before coming to rest, breathlessly in his arms. An upward glance showed him leaning down toward her, lips puckered. At nearly eight feet in height, Blueblood’s head was far above Trixie’s form, and so she had plenty of time to prepare for the makeout of a lifetime.

Except it never came. Blueblood’s lips passed hers by completely. By the time Trixie was ready to rage over being ignored so, she was already moaning, squirming in Blueblood’s muscular grasp as he suckled on her fat, inches-long nipple. Her impossibly large breasts squished against his face and chest, and her huge ass oozed through his fingers as his big hands massaged her rear. In that second, Trixie had an abrupt, bizarre sense of being owned—of being a soft, supple toy for Blueblood’s pleasures.

He turned her around, picking her up as easily as a foal. As he hefted her in his arms, Trixie wondered just how light she was to him now—even her massive, wobbling ass and breasts, which would have given any smaller stallion pause, seemed weightless to the muscular, hulking giant he’d become. It alighted her arousal like nothing else to be handled so easily, so effortlessly by a stallion who was undoubtedly the strongest, largest, most masculine creature in all of Canterlot.

Trixie let out a squeak as Blueblood slapped her down on the bed. Her massive asscheeks wobbled and slapped together, though not quite nearly as loudly as when Blueblood’s big hand gave her a massive smack! across the rump.

“You’ve gotten so big and soft,” Blueblood sneered. Trixie stifled a moan; the aftermath of Blueblood’s spank left her foal-sized asscheeks reverberating like mad, sending vibrations of pleasure and stimulation to her puffy clit and taint. “Your huge, fat ass is going to be the talk of the town. Though not as much as me.”

Trixie gasped when she felt Blueblood’s cock smack heavily down against her rump. The weight was incredible—a hundred pounds, easily, of thick, throbbing stallion meat, and Blueblood carried it around like it was nothing. Rivers of precum drooled down her back as his cock wedged itself firmly in her rump, Blueblood sandwiching his turgid tool directly between her fat, heavy asscheeks. Trixie groaned, a quiver of delight tingling down her spine as she felt a particularly thick vein grinding against her hidden pussy. Just how big was Blueblood now?

“Just look at that.” Blueblood sounded incredibly satisfied. “Gleeful” would have been a good descriptor, Trixie thought. As low and rumbling as his voice was now, he sounded as giddy as a schoolcolt who’d received a new toy. “Even your gargantuan ass is barely big enough to cover up my cock. How does it feel, Miss Trixie, to be so corpulently huge and yet still only barely enough mare to handle a stallion of my caliber?”

Trixie bit down on her lip, her eyes fluttering as Blueblood’s thrusting cock sent her ass bouncing. His oozing pre lubricated her cheeks, easing its passage with each pump of his hips. “It feels,” she grunted, a glow of pride suffusing her words, “that I’m still more than enough mare to handle you.”

Blueblood grunted and thrust. Trixie gasped, surges of pleasure pulsing through her body as her over-sensitive ass wobbled and slapped together. A massive spurt of precum splashed into her mane, and Blueblood shoved his hips forward, his enormous and weighty tool forcing Trixie even closer to the bed.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his muzzle now leaning in close over her ear. Trixie whimpered; Blueblood was so heavy. He’d nearly doubled over, sandwiching his huge, mare-sized shaft between his chest and her back. She could feel it throbbing between her shoulderblades, leaving her fur glistening with warm, gooey pre. She could imagine it thrust between his pecs, their beefy diameters clenching down hard around its girth as they milked and pleasured it with each thrust. Trixie moaned softly; with every one of Blueblood’s muscles flexing and bulging against her soft form, she felt small, weak. He had to be more than twice her weight by now, and a good foot and a half taller. He was just so huge…

A small smile touched her lips, and she tightened her grasp on her pillows. And he was all hers.

Blueblood’s grunts were like an animal’s, low, guttural roars of muffled pleasure. Every thrust sent Trixie’s big, fat buns shaking and trembling like the remnants of an earthquake, and the sheer volume of Blueblood’s thick, gooey pre made them slide and stick together like twin scoops of jello.

“It’s a good thing your ass is so big,” Blueblood bit out, groaning into her ear. “You make a perfect little cocksleeve for a stallion of my size.”

Trixie moaned. She had both hands clasped around her breasts, now, her head thrust up into the air from the sheer volume of her bustline. She could feel her pussy clenching, dripping, needing as her sensitivity flared up to impossible levels. She could feel every throb, every splurt, every beat of blood through Blueblood’s cock. He wasn’t even inside her and yet she felt more owned, more filled, more dominated than ever before. He was—

“I’m going to—I’m going to—“

Oh, Celestia there was going to be so much cum.

“—grah!”

Trixie barely had time to prepare herself before a wave of liquid white hit her. Blueblood’s entire body tensed up with the flexing of his shaft; his exercise ball-sized nuts retracted against his crotch, shoving his muscled thighs apart as his gigantic cock readied itself for the flood to come. He roared in pleasure, thrusting his incredible length between her hundred-pound buns again and again, covering them in a layer of thick white as pure as fresh-fallen snow. Trixie could feel the heat of it, feel the virility of it, Blueblood’s thick, masculine musk permeating her every pore as his massive nuts put out more spunk in seconds than most stallion would produce in their entire lives. Every inch of her that was exposed was covered, stained, marked with Blueblood’s jizz, until every spot of flesh and fur was caked in his oozing, gooey, salty cum.

Trixie moaned softly. Blueblood’s thrusts had stopped for now, though small remnant reverberations in her ass continued to milk a few fist-sized “drops” of seed from his churning balls. She struggled to push herself up from the bed and found she couldn’t; the weight of Blueblood’s cock on her back, plus the mass of his nuts pressing up against her thighs, meant that she was powerless to move—especially given the sheer weight and size of her own breasts and ass. But in that instant, she was so turned on that she almost didn’t care. Her pussy was roaring, searing with heat; she didn’t care how big he was, how much more he would stretch her. Damn it, but if he was that big, then she planned to own that—to feel every monstrous inch that he would shove up her pussy, no matter how much it hurt.

But Blueblood’s cock pulled back—and then kept going, never shoving forward to spear inside of her pussy. Trixie waited for him to pull it out between her asscheeks with a loud squelch before turning over onto her back, her beanbag chair-sized rear squishing out beneath her and raising her up a good foot off the bed. At this “height,” she was still barely high enough to meet Blueblood’s bulging, rounded pecs.

“Don’t tell me you’re finished,” Trixie grunted, pushing herself upright. It took quite a bit of effort, especially given just how big and unwieldy her new tits were, but she somehow managed. “What, one little hotdog and suddenly you’re out of jizz?”

Blueblood laughed. “Not at all, my dear Trixie,” he said. He hugged his massive cock to his chest and began to stroke it gently. His tongue darted out of his mouth, the tip easily long enough to lap at the fat, oozing cockslit that split his foot-wide flare in two. “I doubt anything could sate me now. I merely fancied a change in position.”

“Then c’mon, big boy,” Trixie said. She leered up at him and pulled her breasts and legs apart, just barely exposing her dripping cunny. “Fill me up good, and we’ll call it even.”

“Fill you up? And let all that lovely new flesh go to waste?” Blueblood scoffed. “No, my dear—I plan on dining on every inch of your new, delectable curves. A marehood is so positively uninteresting by comparison. I’d much rather feel your tits ‘round my cock—after all, we’ve yet to see how well they can wrap my length.”

Trixie frowned. “Fine,” she said, “but you’d better give me a damned good rutting later.”

Blueblood chuckled softly as she took his cock into her hands. “Oh, not to worry,” he rumbled. “You’ll get the fucking of a lifetime, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Good,” Trixie said. But she wasn’t really paying attention to his words. Her attention was completely focused—zeroed in on the fat, pulsing flare that was now more-than-filling her palms. It was so heavy, so thick—small rivers of precum ran down between her fingers, so much of it that she could never hope to catch it all. Hadn’t Blueblood just cum seconds earlier? But the thought of a stallion who could never stop going excited her beyond anything else—especially a stallion of his size and virility. She felt herself trembling, grinning with eagerness as she hefted his massive tool in her hands.

Blueblood coughed lightly. “Well?” he said, a lazy grin on his face. “Those tits shan’t fuck themselves, you know.” He made a roundabout gesture with his hand, finger pointed outward toward the head of the mattress. It was easy enough for Trixie to put two and two together, and so she flopped backward.

“Ah,” sighed Blueblood, his smile widening as he eased his length between her breasts. “Simply magnificent.” Trixie grunted, squinting out of one eye after a volley of copious precum made the other squeeze shut out of pure reflex. She couldn’t help a small moan, though, especially not as Blueblood’s cock pushed more and more of her vast breastflesh aside to make room for its rock-hard length.

“Soft,” Blueblood grunted, “pillowy. Your ass held at least a hint of firmness, but these—this is pure decadence. Fat. Plumpness, my dear.” His smirk curved wider, and he cupped his hands around his two massive nuts, each one groaning and sloshing with seed. “Titsie really is quite the fitting name, isn’t it?”

“You tell me, Blueballs,” she choked out. His flare had poked up between the top of her cleavage, and the musk of it was nearly overwhelming. She felt woozy, lightheaded, every nerve in her body screaming and asking why this huge hunk of a stallion wasn’t currently buried up to his thighs in her cunt. She whimpered as his cock pushed all the way up through her bust, the flare brushing against the bottom of her chin and leaving a smear of precum wider than her fist. “I’m still waiting for you to paint my other side white.”

Blueblood laughed. “Feisty,” he chuckled. “Just how I like you. But I think you can make this experience a bit better yet. It’s a pity even your breasts are too small to contain me—such a stallion as myself,” he said, sighing in mock disappointment, “seems still too large to be pleasured by even a pair of breasts as obscene as yours. No matter. A warm throat around my flare should top it off nicely, I think.”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to fit that whole thing in my mouth?” she asked. His cock flare throbbed, another pint of precum oozing down between her tits.

“Not to worry, Trixie,” Blueblood said. He sniggered, as though he’d thought up a particularly funny joke. “Just the tip.”

She regarded the head warily. Even as a “tip”, it was still wider than most of her entire head. But all the same…

Her mouth watered slightly, her cunt contracting at the sight of that glorious, luscious cock. Didn’t she deserve to swallow that monstrosity whole? To gulp down that titan of lust, to prove to her cocky colt once and for all that no mare was as skilled in the bedroom as she?

Trixie steeled her will, her resolve, and let her jaw hang open. The second her lips parted, Blueblood’s hips shoved forward—and thrust his cock directly into her mouth.

Trixie very nearly choked. She gagged, seizing for air, and finding only precum and musk. She twisted beneath Blueblood’s heavy shaft and her own impossibly large tits, writhing to try and remove the offending intruder from her esophagus. But Blueblood paid her no mind, his cock lodged firmly down her throat. Trixie’s eyes watered as he pumped his hips back and forth, her massive tits violently bouncing and smacking together as he moaned loud enough for the two of them. His two-foot nuts slapped against her fat ass, every part of her body jiggling as a torrent of precum cascaded down her throat, her stomach bloating with it as she gurgled helplessly around his length.

With a primal, near-bestial roar, Blueblood came. His cock flared impossibly wide, distending Trixie’s jaw as a knot of jizz worked its way up to the flare. She choked as fat wads of jizz, each nearly a quart in volume, bulged out her throat and deposited themselves directly into her stomach. She could feel herself bloating out, her belly getting tighter and fuller, groaning with seed as Blueblood fucked her tits like a fleshlight.

The oncoming tide of cum seemed like it would last forever—but just as Trixie felt her air supply beginning to dry up, Blueblood’s flare pulled back and popped out from her lips. More and more spunk, thick ropes nearly as thick as her forearm, striped her chest and face as she coughed up more jizz onto her tits than she’d ever seen in a lifetime before meeting Blueblood. Meanwhile, her lover continued to sigh and groan, massaging his monstrous shaft as Trixie gasped for air beneath him.

“You fucking prick!” Trixie wheezed, her face turning red. “I could have fucking choked!”

“A trifling concern,” Blueblood said. He pinched a fold of skin standing off from his pillar of meat and shuddered; an errant throb of his cock sent a thick rope of jizz splattering the underside of his chin. As he wiped it off, he smiled down at her, warmth suffusing his face as lust burned in his eyes. “I was quick, no? Your tits are incredible, Trixie dear, and your mouth as wonderful as ever.” His smile broadened. “Though for a mare who’s near all tits and ass, perhaps I should expect nothing less, hm?” He gave her a heavy smack on the rear, his hand coming down on her plate-sized Cutie Mark with a sound like a thunderclap. Trixie gasped, just barely stifling a squeal.

Red-faced, Trixie grunted out, “Fine. But at least warn me next time before shoving the whole damned thing in.” She clenched her teeth, glaring at his cock. It stood there innocently, still as erect and pre-drenched as ever, as Blueblood’s bouncing pecs softly massaged it from the sides. “I can hold my breath, but not if you’re going to just fuck my throat without so much as a by-your-leave.”

Now it was Blueblood’s turn to quirk an eyebrow. “Very well,” he drawled, in a voice that sounded anything but sincere. “I shall do my best to consider that.”

“Good,” Trixie grunted. She took a deep breath, getting a sense for her motor functions. It was easy enough to forgive, she told herself. He was like a colt in some ways, really—just getting used to a new toy. Of course he would be overly enthusiastic with it at first. But he was her prince—and she his princess—and it would be a waste if the two of them weren’t being pleasured like the twin gods they were.

So instead of grunting again, when she opened her eyes next, they were wide and sparkling. “So,” she purred, giving her jizz-spattered breasts a squeeze. “You mentioned a good fucking I was to receive?”

“What’s that?” Blueblood said. He took a step toward her, and the room trembled. “Does my little princess care to be bred?”

Trixie shuddered happily. Not bred per se—the thought of any screeching little hellspawn horrified her—but to be owned so purely by her prince that she might own him in return… Now that was a deal she could get behind. Now if only Blueblood would get behind her as well.

“Always,” she murmured. She reached out to lay a hand on his nutsack. Even after two massive orgasms, his balls seemed barely any smaller than before. It looked like his operations had done more than just increase their size—at this point, she wondered if Blueblood would have to worry about refilling his balls so much as emptying them. She shivered with delight, wondering if there even existed another stallion in the world who could lay claim to her coltfriend’s sheer libido now.

He groaned as she stroked them, her delicate hands sliding across those cum-laden orbs as her massive mammaries incidentally rubbed against his engorged shaft. A splatter of precum fell upon her cheek, and Trixie licked it off with a flicker of her tongue. She nearly moaned in delight. Blueblood tasted so good, so warm, so salty and fresh and filling—

She needed to have him inside of her. Now! Not down her throat, however good that may have felt when she was prepared. No; she needed him to fill her pussy with his cock and rail her until she could barely move.

“So fuck me, my lord,” Trixie purred, her slender hands gliding across the two massive spheres sloshing with seed. Blueblood groaned, his eyelids fluttering as her nipples brushed against his abs. “Fuck me until I can’t so much as walk.”

“Oh,” Blueblood growled, “I’m big enough for more than that now.” And he pushed her to the bed and grabbed her tits in each hand, gallons of titflesh oozing between his thick, sausage-like fingers.

She had nary a moment after feeling the wide, heavy girth of his flare brushing up against her marehood then she felt him pushing, straining to be let inside. Trixie’s lips parted, her eyes widening, her cheeks burning as, for the first time that night, she realized just how large he had truly become. Acres of soft, warm assflesh were sloughed aside, plowed wide by the unstoppable force of maleness that had seen fit to spear her on its length. Blueblood’s length continued to push, forcing her dripping, juicy cunt ever-wider, ready to finally claim what was his.

She felt him slide inside of her with a pop, and gasped, her eyes bulging. Her pussy had been loose from years of ever-larger toys, but this? She could feel the muscles around her cunt quivering, stretched tighter than a rubber band and primed to snap with even an errant twitch of Blueblood’s massive tool. Trixie groaned, her whole body trembling as Blueblood slid another few inches inside of her, that scant penetration already more intense than his entire organ had been just hours before.

“O-oh, fuck,” she gasped, panting. “O-oh. Ooh!”

Her g-spot was quivering like a wind-up clock. Her puffy labia lips were spread impossibly wide, and widening by the second. It struck her like a revelation, a proverb of sex and lust. She needed this. She’d been fucked, penetrated, speared on a stallion’s shaft—and never before had any stallion been as large as Blueblood had been only yesterday. But this was different. This wasn’t simple penetration. This was an itch she’d never even known needed to be scratched. She was being filled, stretched and abused and pulled apart and rearranged to make room for this enormous, massive, flexing member—and if it wanted to rip her whole body apart, she would have to let it and cum all the same.

“I can see you like that,” Blueblood rumbled, chuckling ominously. He shoved her legs further apart, making room for his tool as her massive thunder thighs jiggled and slapped against the sides of his cock. “But I’ve barely even pushed the tip inside. And I can see you want more.” She gazed up at him with wide, feral eyes, and he smirked down toward her. A twitch of his hips sent his cock grazing across the border of her womb, and Trixie gasped, moaning and wailing torn and sewed up together in a perfect kind of pleasurable agony.

Blueblood’s voice lowered, and rasped with sensual desire as he smiled and said, “Beg for more, little slut.”

“M-more!” A twitch of his hips. Another inch. Trixie stifled a moan, her body lurching with the lightest flex of Blueblood’s cock. “F-fill me up. Stuff me full.” An inch lost—his hips pulling back. She could feel her overstretched pussy flexing, begging for it back—she’d been stretched beyond all recognition; she’d never be full again; she needed him inside her, needed to feel him stretching her or else she’d feel a void in her cunt. “P-please.”

He jerked his hips forward, and she wailed in pleasure and agony. There couldn’t be more than a foot and a half inside of her; how was there so much cock? He lowered his head toward her, his nostrils flaring, his breath hot on her bust. “Beg,” he snarled, and pumped his hips once.

Trixie’s eyes rolled back. Pleasure, pain, sensation without boundary, sensuality without end, filled her veins as a powerful orgasm racked her body with tremors of absolution. Her pussy clenched—or tried to, and found that it couldn’t, that Blueblood’s massive, muscular tool demanded more space, was pushing it apart, was getting wider, thicker, forcing its way ever-inward even as Trixie gasped and writhed around it like a captured prey animal. And she was, she realized, even as spasms racked her inner walls, as juices leaked from her cunt and mixed with the pints of precum already filling her womb and cunny. It hit her like lightning, a thrill of excitement and fear and desire. She was his prey—and he, her master.

Blueblood was smirking down at her, one eyebrow raised as her orgasm drew her to shudder and wheeze. “All you had in you, little Titsie?” he murmured. He slammed his hips forward, embedding another two feet of his cock inside of her. Trixie wailed, the whites of her eyes clearly visible as each fresh inch of Blueblood’s shaft triggered another orgasm inside of her, the pleasure and pressure mounting even as the satisfaction never quite seemed to peak. She could already feel the distension of her belly as Blueblood’s fat flare rubbed against it, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more.

Blueblood pulled out—not all the way, just a foot or so—and then slammed his way back in like a batter ram. Trixie’s head jerked back, then lolled to the side. She realized that there was a string of saliva dripping down her cheek, and slurped it up. “F-fuck me harder,” she choked, sliding a hand under her breasts and feeling her belly. The warm, round curve of Blueblood’s flare greeted her; if she moved her palm just so, she could feel the pulsing mound of flesh where the constant glorp of his urethra drooled more precum inside of her. “Fuck me like you mean it, you little colt.”

“Little colt, am I?” Blueblood sneered. “Please. Let’s see those magnificent tits shake.”

The next time he rammed inside of her, Trixie screamed, the note of her voice hitting a quivering, chiming crescendo, like a crystal glass about to break. The next thrust sent her skidding forward down the mattress—though Blueblood caught her in his big, powerful hands and dragged her back, spearing her on another six inches of his monstrous cock. Her enormous tits jiggled and bounced, gallons of titflesh smacking together as Blueblood began to pump in earnest, his massive member spewing more precum inside of her by the second.

“I’m never going to stop fucking you,” Blueblood growled. He’d bent over nearly double, his nipples nearly even with her underboobs. His manly musk was stifling, but precious; it was like a drug, an aphrodisiac that merely sent Trixie’s orgasms soaring to greater and newer heights. “I’m going to wear you like a cocksleeve, little mare. I’m going to take you whenever I please—in the ass, in the breasts, in the cunt, or between your ass. You’re going to be my little fucktoy, and I’m going to keep you just barely big enough to satisfy me—that is, if I don’t get any bigger.” He chuckled again, and Trixie moaned, biting down on her lip so hard that she almost feared it would bleed.

He pressed down on her, and Trixie grunted. The force of his muscular body on hers forced her massive breasts downward onto the bulge his cock made in her belly. The pressure tore her two ways; even at their softness, her breasts still had enough firmness to stay their perfect, perky spheres, and though they squished outward in the process, Trixie could feel herself being crushed beneath her own monstrous bust even as Blueblood’s cock tore her apart. She saw his lips pucker up and prepared herself for a kiss—and then watched instead as he latched onto her nipple, hard, suckling on her tit like a colt worshipping his mother’s milk.

Each thrust of his hips sent his massive balls smacking against the bed, the entire mattress—no, the entire room shaking with the vibrations of his titanic body’s impact. He was an Adonis of size, power, sex, and Trixie could feel it with every slap of his nuts against the soft pillow of her ass, feeling the gallons of seed churning and sloshing within. Her entire, pillowy body undulated like an ocean of warm, feminine flesh, her breasts and ass jiggling and slapping together as Blueblood filled up every opening in her body and then some. Trixie made a sound halfway between a gag and a moan, wondering just how much her form could stretch to accommodate her lover’s endowment.

Her belly was monstrously deformed, a full foot of Blueblood’s cock pushing up from her stomach. She could feel it thrusting between her tits, effectively receiving a titjob even as her overstretched cunny spasmed and clenched around its base. Trixie’s eyes rolled back, a soundless moan tearing its way from her lips as she writhed in constant, never ending orgasm, each peak of pleasure taller and more exhausting than the last. Above her, Blueblood’s grunts and snorts reached a frenzied peak, his flaring nostrils and wide, feral eyes bellying a predator finally ready to overcome its prey.

He bottomed out inside of her with a wordless cry, the very force of it shaking the bed like an earthquake. Trixie’s belly bulged, instantly swelling outward as a cumshot bearing gallons of seed erupted inside of her like a volcano. Blueblood’s cock thickened impossibly wide, deforming her belly further and pushing her aching cunt even wider as it pumped wave after wave of hot, churning seed inside of her, bloating out her gut with each tsunami of jizz.

Trixie felt her belly swelling out, pushing her enormous boobs upward with each glug, glug of Blueblood’s cock. She felt like she was a balloon, inflating as with a water pump as Blueblood’s orgasm filled her up impossibly, incredibly full. He’d taken all she had and found it not enough—and so his cum was making her bigger, rounder, heavier, sloshing and churning inside of her as it crashed upon the edge of her cunt like a heaving track of white-water rapids.

She felt his balls sinking into her ass, his teeth biting down around her nipple. Her breasts deformed and shook and jiggled and bounced, gallons of titflesh oozing between his sausage-thick fingers as his thirty-inch biceps squeezed them in a perfect vise. Blueblood’s pecs bounced and flexed, his cock arching inside of her and forcing her body to arch around it, each splurt of cum inside of her a fresh new sea of wonder, pleasure, awe to draw her mind up into the entirety of his heavy, dripping musk.

She’d always known she’d been meant to be this full, Trixie knew. How she’d never realized it—how she’d never been truly sated—it seemed impossible. Yet Blueblood owned her now—and she owned him—and so long as she was his mare, she would never go unrelieved again. Bent over on his bed, twisting around his cock as his seed sloshed and gurgled inside of her, bloating her belly past the point of pregnancy until her gut was as wide as either one of her breasts or asscheeks—

Blueblood grunted, groaned, then slowly began to pull back. Trixie moaned in echo, her body stiffening as Blueblood’s cock slid against her walls—then going limp, whinnying softly as it finally popped out of her. A waterfall of cum poured out from her gaping pussy; even without looking, she could picture it in her head: a gaping, cavernous hole that no other stallionhood could ever fill. She was panting, sweating, her cheeks burning red as her three-foot belly gurgled and jiggled beneath the weight of her heavy bust. She finally, she realized—finally felt satisfied.

“That,” she groaned, “was amazing.”

Blueblood sighed. He had one hand on his dick, the shaft mottled with stripes of thick white cum. He shuddered, his every muscle flexing, his nipples erect and quivering. “Was?” he said, his voice holding a questioning lilt. “My dear Trixie… I’m not empty yet.”

Trixie forced her head upward. Her boobs and gut were too big to even see most of Blueblood’s body from her position on the bed, but once he stepped around the side of the bed, she could see for herself what he meant. His cock slapped wetly over her breasts, resting perpendicular to her cleavage, and her eyes widened at the sight of his tremendous nuts swaying gently between his thighs. If anything, they looked even larger than before: fuller, heavier, fatter with creamy, virile seed.

“My dear,” Blueblood rumbled, his muscles flexing powerfully. “We’ll not be done for a long time yet.” She groaned as he stroked a finger along the edge of her collarbone, tingles of electricity shocking her fatigued muscles. “I’m going to keep fucking you until your belly’s bigger than the pool outside.” She gaped up at him, and his cock flexed atop her, splurting another pint of jizz onto the bed beside her.

Blueblood merely smiled. “We have a long night ahead of us, my dear. Let’s get started.”

Chapter Four: Waiting

        He didn’t make her as big as the swimming pool outside, but by the time Blueblood was finally finished for the night, Trixie’s belly was big enough to leave her completely immobile. Her massive, cum-bloated gut towered above her, gurgling and churning as it struggled to cope with its enormous meal. Her stomach struggled to digest its own contents, dozens of gallons of hot, thick jizz sloshing inside from the remnants of a half-dozen blowjobs, not to mention an assfucking session that had left her asshole gaping wider than her pussy.

        Trixie groaned softly, then burped. A white bubble of cum popped around the edges of her mouth. Her entire face - no, her entire body was caked in Blueblood’s cum. As far as she knew, he hadn’t stopped because he’d been satisfied; he’d stopped because he’d been tired. And that was after more than twelve hours of constant, nonstop fucking.

        Beside her, Blueblood sighed in his sleep. Trixie turned her head to face his big muzzle, unable to move any other part of her body due to the overpowering weight keeping her flattened to the bed. His massive body held her in place, though even his big arms couldn’t reach even halfway around her blubbery boobs and gut. Her gigantic ass squished against his shaft, which throbbed and dribbled precum onto her neck every time he exhaled. Once or twice through the “night” - dawn had been an hour ago, and Trixie was beginning to wonder just how much of the day they would sleep through - her stirrings and efforts to make herself comfortable had induced another orgasm from the sleeping giant, leaving her further drenched in a coat of clean, dripping white.

        Trixie smiled, though, and curled up her head closer to her pillow. It was soft, like she was, and she tried to let her eyelids droop shut. The night had been fantastic - she’d never had sex like that - but she’d been more than exhausted by the second hour, her limp body little more than a vessel for Blueblood to use, to pump full of jizz. It didn’t seem to matter to him - he’d kept right on going - but she was thankful that she at least had some time to rest. She was done with sex for today, at least - and she’d never thought she’d say that.

        Her eyes drifted shut - and then she felt it. A shake, a jiggle, a lurch. Her eyes widened as Blueblood’s hands slid between her gut and breast and pulled her close to him. She could feel his hot, heavy breath on her shoulder, feel his big, rounded pecs flexing against her shoulderblades. His hips pulled back, then pushed forward, grinding his cock between her massive asscheeks.

        When Blueblood awoke several hours later to find a Trixie drenched with fresh cum, rather than just the dried, caked-on jizz of the previous night, he would deny consciously hotdogging her through the night - let alone a full five times in his sleep. As he ate his “breakfast,” downing tens of thousands of calories to fuel his massive body, Trixie was very aware of the way his full-mast cock twitched and flared toward her; as she made to request an afternoon kiss, a twitch of his finger sent her crouching beneath the table. Blueblood used her ass as a cushion for his stallionhood, a cradle for his thrusting hips even as he downed food enough to fuel his titanic, muscular form. And by the end of it, of course, Trixie was drenched in his spunk once again.

        She’d been excited by his offer of “wearing her like a cocksleeve” - it was a fantasy that had left her libido burning, her mind jittering with possibilities. But she hadn’t realized how seriously he would take it. Throughout the rest of the day, Blueblood brought her with him to every meeting, every party, every...encounter. And through it all, a mere twitch of his finger brought Trixie running. She came eagerly at first, for the idea of being publicly rutted by so magnificent a stallion with so curvy a body was the height of libidinous scandal. Oh, she adored the looks on the other nobles’ faces as Blueblood fucked her like a broodmare even as he casually discussed budgets and hors d'oeuvres.

        They were a magnificent setpiece: her, with her huge, jiggly body; and him, with his gigantic, beefy form. He wore no clothes - covering up one’s nakedness, he told her with a sneer, was for commoners to concern them with. The other nobles, the servants, butlers, visitors to the palace, eyed them with wide eyes and gaping muzzles as they made their way down the halls, often with Trixie firmly impaled upon Blueblood’s cock. He kept his word to wear her like a cocksleeve, her big, busty body slipping up and down his shaft as his mountainous form made the corridors shake with his size and weight. By the end of each day, she was as big and bloated as their first night at this size.

        At first, it was nearly a convenience for Trixie. Walking - waddling with her new breasts and ass was no simple task, and at first she was thankful for the “transport” if only for the ease of it. Even a light jog for Blueblood would send his member plunging in and out of her depths, constantly spasming with more and more cum as she herself clenched and came around it. The utter lack of shame and depravity of it fascinated her; the casualness of the arrangement left her amused, delighted, lustful.

        But even her libido was nothing compared to his. Long after the sloshing of her belly had ceased to pleasure and had begun to hurt, Trixie found herself pinned to a table beneath Blueblood’s muscular form. He rutted her mercilessly, grunting and snorting like an animal, his thoughts bereft of all but sex. She never refused him - how could she? She did enjoy it, and she adored the status it brought her. But it was mindless - pointless, she was beginning to think.

        Where was the love? Where was the romance? Pleasure was all well and good - she loved to sneer down at the other, less-endowed mares; far too large to be clothed in more than a thin-stringed “bra” and “thong,” she took great pains in ensuring that everypony she passed could see her huge, fat asscheeks slapping against each other as her boobs bounced and jiggled. They were tiny to her - but had she grown tiny to Blueblood? She satisfied him, and he went a ways to satisfy her; there wasn’t a minute when the sex was anything less than mindblowing.

        But the romance had gone out of it. She was his princess - if there was one thing she had long since determined, it was that one day she would wear a crown, and sit beside him in power, wealth, and luxury. A marefriend - the word “mistress” barely touched her mind, no matter how long it’d been since she’d tasted more than lust past his probing lips - must one day become a fiance, become a wife, become ever-more. They’d been together for months, and had met each other’s every pleasure. Yet where was his ring?

        Her fingers were bare. Her stomach was bloated, sloshing with cum every second of every minute of every day. Had she not employed a protection spell twenty-four hours a day, she would have become pregnant with his foal long ago. Some days, as much as she despised children, she wondered if she might not hate this limbo even more. She groaned, grit her teeth, and bore it, for if this was the price she was to pay for ascension to royalty, she would gladly pay it a thousand times over. And yet...when would that mountainous lummox propose?

        When had been the last time they had dined together, without his cock clamped between her mountainous buttcheeks? Where were the candlelit dinners, the gentle waltzes, the roses, the love letters and chocolates? Where was her prince - not this snorting, grunting beast of a stallion, but the romantic colt she’d dreamt would sweep her up since foalhood? She’d come too close to attaining her fantasies to let go now, especially when she was teetering on the edge of a precipice between victory and utter, degrading, loss.

        And Trixie Lulamoon, the Great and Powerful, did not lose.

        Trixie’s first hours without Blueblood came four days after their most recent operations. She had the day almost entirely to herself - the stallion himself had left that morning with her still asleep, and she’d rather savored the time alone. Why, after a peaceful breakfast (fit for royalty, of course), her belly had deflated enough that she thought she might take a swim. The warm water was utterly refreshing, especially as she didn’t have to worry about caked-on jizz filling the rippling water around her. Her obscenely large endowments made swimming properly a near impossibility, she discovered, but she found to her delight that they floated. She spent a rather lovely afternoon drifting atop the pool, a cocktail in hand, and found the only unpleasantness to be removing her body from the pool itself. Maneuvering an ass of her size took some doing - especially when said rear simply refused to bob beneath the surface level of the water.

        Still, she reflected, her lips pressed together primly as a trio of maids dried her off (her body was too vast, and her personage too important to possibly dry herself off - and besides, she enjoyed the attention); while it had been an altogether pleasant day, she did wonder where Blueblood had gone. The stallion’s libido was incredible, and his attraction to her - or at least her body, she thought, before crushing the thought ruthlessly - undeniable.

        Perhaps, she thought with a little gasp, he’d gone for the day to fetch a ring personally. Oh, that must be it, she decided with little bubbles of glee filling her ample bosom. Squeezing her bust and rear through the bathroom door took some doing, but she was more than happy to let the staff take care of such mundane matters as she fantasized about the ring her coltfriend was undoubtedly fetching for her.

        Would it be diamond? Ruby? Emerald? Perhaps all three - tied together with a magical lattice, enchanted to last forevermore. Trixie didn’t even bother to stop a giggle of delight as she hefted her hand, splaying her fingers as she pictured how such a ring would look. The size of the thing - oh, the two things anypony would notice upon seeing her for the first time would be her curves and her engagement. She shouldn’t have doubted Blueblood for a second; once he’d worked all of the excess lust out of his system, there was no question that such a powerful, virile stallion should fail to propose to such an equally attractive mare.

        She sat on the bed with her monumental ass squished out beneath her, positively buzzing as her thoughts soared with excitement. Oh, what would it look like - what would the wedding be like - and the honeymoon? Never again Trixie - never again, even “the Great and Powerful.” Princess Trixie, she would be called, as she’d always deserved. So excited was she that even when her nipples began to stiffen again for want of a good fondling, she ignored any pleasures of the flesh in order to focus more purely on her daydreams, each potential future glimmering with more possibility than the last.

        As the doorknob clicked out of place (they’d gotten the door replaced - though also enlarged - following Blueblood’s first explosive entrance into her penthouse), Trixie’s heart leapt to her throat. She made to leap to her feet, then winced as she felt her massive slabs of ass-meat slapping and smacking together from the sudden force. She stifled a moan, yearning to remain as regal as possible instead of giving into the bestial urges that her true love had surely now overcome.

        The door slammed open a moment later - not hard enough to break, but hard enough to send tiny tremors through the room. Hunched over just enough for his horn to miss the top of the doorway, but still broad enough for his shoulders to brush against the sides, Blueblood stumbled in, laughing and moaning all at once. A duo of mares stood in his arms, a bicep as wide as their waists curled around their hips. Breasts bounced and makeup sparkled as Blueblood lurched forward, his drooling, pre-slick shaft slapping between his slablike pecs.

        “A lovely evening, ladies,” he drawled, drawing his hand around the contours of one’s rear. He gave her a spank and she squeaked loudly, though not without drawing a blush from her cheeks first. “Let’s see if you can do that thing where you both hug it again, while I - “

“Blueblood!”

        He didn’t quite stop short in his tracks, but he stumbled violently enough that it counted just as well. “Trixie,” he slurred, blinking down at her. He at least had the wherewithal to sound slightly guilty. “How - how are you doing? I’ve been hav - having a simply marvelous day.”

        No ring. No proposal. Trixie felt her heart shatter, then clenched her teeth and shoved the pieces back together. This would all be alright. She simply had to fix it. She was Great. She was Powerful. And she. Would. Not. Stand this.

        “You,” she snarled at the two mares - those two...hussies! “Leave my apartments at once!”

They both glanced timidly up at Blueblood. He hesitated, then gently lifted his arms, his pecs inflating impressively as he did so.

“You ladies can go,” he said, his massive cock throbbing. He grunted softly as one of his mares stroked it, and gave her fat ass a slap with his open hand. She squealed, and fled through the door after her companion, giggling all the way.

“Mares,” Blueblood said, chuckling. He turned back to Trixie, a lazy grin on his face. “Just want attention.”

Trixie prickled. “Do they, now?” she asked. “As opposed to me?”

“Trixie, dear.” Blueblood raised his hands, his grin twitching as she stalked toward him. Her hilariously oversized buttcheeks wobbled and bounced as she moved, forcing her into an awkward, angry sort of waddle that he was obviously trying hard not to laugh at. “What, you think I would forget about you? Trixie, darling, I’ve been saving my seed all day for you.”

“Your seed,” she spat. “As opposed to your ring?”

Blueblood’s eyebrows went up. In a flash of motion, he reached out and grabbed her, squeezing her to his chest. Trixie moaned involuntarily when she felt his cock grinding up between her asscheeks. She was sore, she was exhausted, she was tired of servicing his every whim - and yet something primal in her burned all the same at the touch of that throbbing stallionhood to her taint.

“My dear,” Blueblood purred, grinding his shaft against her. Precum oozed down the back of her neck, matting her mane and fur. His thick, pulsing, medial ring rubbed against the small of her back, eliciting another squeak from her throat. “I have every intention of giving you my ring - many times over.”

He slapped her ass - hard. Trixie gave a squeak of indignation, but was unable to stifle a soft moan of pleasure as her huge, rippling rump stimulated her puffy labia. Blueblood's smirk widened, and his voice rumbled in his inflated chest as he said, "Get on the bed. I'll be happy to rut you like the cockslut you are."

Trixie didn't even open her mouth to respond. Demurely, she stepped forward and heaved herself up onto the mattress. It took some doing, but she managed to get her titanic boobs up over the side, though she looked fairly ridiculous with her mammoth ass wobbling and bouncing as she struggled to pull herself up. Blueblood didn't help her up; instead, he snickered at her, and she saw him all but choking his cock in his hands out of the corner of her eye.

Meekly, Trixie shifted her huge rear up into the air, presenting herself to her much larger partner. Blueblood leered at her and stepped forward, the floor shaking beneath his tremendous weight. Trixie had barely a second of warning - there was only a slight hint of pressure, and then Blueblood's monstrous shaft had shoved its way forward, not into her cunt, but through her round, puckered hole.

Trixie's eyes bulged as Blueblood forced his way forward, the quarts of pre slicking his shaft the only lubricant easing his entry. Tears came to her eyes, and she gasped as she felt her insides rearrange themselves around each fresh inch of his mammoth member. Pre oozed and gushed into her like the rush of a waterfall, filling her belly and rounding it out with barely even a twitch of exertion or arousal. Something between a moan and a short, bestial grunt echoed from her throat. Trixie was no stranger to anal - in fact, she'd grown to adore the cold, slick sensation of being stuffed at this size - but Blueblood had skipped the foreplay and gone straight to penetration. Where was the warm-up? The preparation? The mutual arousal and play?

"Such a fat rump," Blueblood said, his deep voice taunting and slick. He gave her another slap, and she moaned again as the force of her jiggling rump set another volley of pre splattering against her insides. "You're nothing more than a pair of tits and a glorious, fat booty, are you, dear Titsie?" He pumped his hips forward, ramming his entire length inside of her; Trixie gurgled, her belly distorting obscenely as Blueblood's length gobbled up more room than even her body could provide. "The perfect sleeve for my cock."

A cocksleeve. Was that all she was? Tears came to Trixie's eyes, but she wasn't sure whether it was from the pressure in her asshole or the words striking at her heart. She cried out, her eyes rolling back in a mixture of pleasure and piercing, throbbing pain as he fucked her roughly, each of his thrusts making the entire mattress shake beneath her weight. His hips jerked forward, his massive shaft flexing and bending her body around its length. Trixie groaned and gurgled, more and more pre churning up to fill her belly as Blueblood's organ throbbed and swelled and tensed -

With a low, bestial roar, Blueblood flung his hips forward. Trixie's eyes flung wide open just an instant before his orgasm began - and then his flood of cum hit her like a tsunami. The pressure and force of it were so great that she actually found her pussy clenching around thin air an instant later - he'd cum so hard as to actually send her flying off of the end of his cock!

She barely had time enough to register it before she found something wide, shiny, and hard rushing up to meet her. Trixie slammed onto the headboard of the bed, colliding with it head-on as the momentum imparted by Blueblood's orgasm forced her forward. Only the vast pillows of her breasts saved her from any real harm, a good amount of firm bust coming up below her chin and cushioning her impact.

                A floor-shaking thump reached her ears, just seconds after they had started to ring. Trixie groaned, her head throbbing with pain. She gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as the good-sized knot on her forehead pulsed. She could feel her gaping asshole leaking cum beneath her, a waterfall of Blueblood's hot, thick load leaking out from her foot-wide ring onto the stained sheets below.

She tried opening her eyes, and immediately regretted it as the world swam around her. A few seconds later, she chanced it again, and sighed in relief when she found that most of the pain had subsided. Grinding her teeth together - and then grunting in pain when her jaw cracked from the force - she tenderly turned herself over so that she was sitting atop her enormous rump, her buttcheeks squishing like a pair of beanbag chairs as her legs dangled over the side of the bed.

Blueblood was no longer standing at the foot of the bed. Instead, the source of the second thump made itself clear as Trixie's gaze traced across the floor, ending at the squishy armchair not five feet away. Blueblood had evidently stumbled back and crashed into its leather embrace, too overcome by pleasure and alcohol to do much more than land head-upright. His huge body dominated the too-small chair, dominating it completely. One of his massive legs was slung over one of the arms, and his even-larger shaft - exactly when had it grown longer and thicker than one of his legs? - was draped lazily over it, slowly going flaccid as a few remaining pints of jizz drooled out onto the floor below.

Trixie's jaw clenched. Tenderly, taking care not to disturb her aching head, she did her best to sit upright. Blueblood's snores, filled her ears, and she scowled. So that was it, then? He came home from a day of partying and whores and fucked her once without so much as a by-your-leave, and then feel right to sleep? She glared at him in his drunken stupor, a vein throbbing beneath the good-sized egg on her forehead. She couldn't even call what they had "sex" - or, as she'd once dreamed, "making love." No, that was fucking - raw and primal and objectifying. She felt bile rising in her throat as tears rose to her eyes, but shoved both back down. She was better than this.

Somewhat awkwardly, she slipped off of the bed. The soles of her feet hit the carpet, and every mound of flesh on her hyper-voluptuous body jiggled and bounced in a symphony of motion. She was so heavy at the rear that only the counterweight of her breasts kept her from falling back onto the bed; as it was, Trixie barely managed to keep her balance while waiting for the motion to subside. Once it had, she took a deep breath, and grabbed a bathrobe from a hook beside the bedroom closet. She slipped it on, and eyed the glass doors leading outside to the balcony. A moment later, she slipped outside into the warm night air.

Trixie laid both hands onto the railing. She could barely grasp it given the size of her tits - they spread out so far ahead of her and so wide on either side that she had to squeeze them together to even hold anything in front of her. Her knuckles tightened on the wood of the railing, her breasts weighing heavily on its surface as she stared off into the distance, watching the stars above glimmer with a mournful expression.

She wondered if she should feel angry. Lost, perhaps? Upset? Instead she just felt tired.

Somewhat dully, she glanced down at her hand. Five naked fingers absolutely failed to glimmer with the shine of a diamond, or any other precious gem. With a sigh, she let it fall to her side, then winced when it instead came to rest atop her huge, rounded hips.

No ring. Not even a consideration of a proposal. Trixie stared glumly off into the distance, staring past the hundreds of flickering lights that painted the Canterlot skyline like fireflies. They were so far beneath her now...and yet so infinitely far above. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her situation. The personal marefriend - even now, she refused to consider the word "mistress" - of the most attractive stallion in the land, and she was barely more than a fucktoy to him.

Oh, he certainly was attractive. Even the very thought of him - though she felt no urge to turn around, to glance backward and see his massive, fluid-covered body crushing the chair beneath him - made her thighs slick with arousal once more. Trixie gritted her teeth, and spread her legs a little further apart to accommodate her still-tightening asshole. Some ropes of spunk still clung to the insides of her thighs and rear, but some magic had cleaned up the most of it.

Where was the romance? Where was the ring? "I'll be a princess someday," she'd promised herself at the ripe, wise age of six. Every filly had that dream at one point - but she was the only one who'd come so close to living it (she very carefully ignored any thought of Twilight Sparkle). And yet, without Blueblood's interest, it seemed as though she was doomed to be nothing more than a warm hole for him, plump and soft enough to be a sleeve for his ever-growing stallionhood.

Trixie growled under her breath. Damn it! That wasn't good enough! She wanted to be Mrs. Blueblood the Sixteenth - she'd made sure to study his heritage very closely; after all, she was going to be family someday - and wouldn't settle for anything less.

But how?

Somewhat deflated, Trixie slumped forward against the railing. She sighed, and stared glumly out over the skyline.

The steady thwump-thwump of feathery wings, so quiet as to be almost unnoticeable, pulled her from her thoughts. Trixie blinked, and whirled around just as a tall, dark form set down onto the balcony behind her. A cloud pulled away from the moon, and a beam of moonlight descended down to strike the shadow on the cheek.

Luna.

Trixie's eyes widened. "Princess - Princess Luna," she stammered. Gone were the sneers, the boasts, the taunts. She felt exposed - vulnerable, even. She moved to pull her bathrobe around her chest - what an odd moment for modesty! - and flushed when she realized that it didn't even come halfway around the width of her bust.

Luna smiled faintly down at her. At a monumental nine and a half feet tall, the jet-blue alicorn was a titan of feminine size. She wore a simple gown of deep mauve that clung to her curves - and what curves they were. Her breasts and rear were just as large as Trixie's, though being a full three feet taller, she tended to wear them quite a bit more comfortable. Each breath brought her well-endowed chest inflating impressively, and Trixie found her eyes widening as she struggled to take in every inch of the magnificent mare in front of her. Twilight Sparkle had been large. Seen outside of a meeting, in the primal element of night, Luna was...magnificent.

"Greetings," Luna said. She inclined her head and smiled, her long mane sweeping over her shoulder. "A pleasant night to spend outdoors, isn't it?"

Trixie's mouth twisted. She tried to ignore the fact that her thumb-sized nipples were pointing at the Princess' abdomen like a pair of accusatory fingers. "Lovely," she said, only somewhat bitterly.

Luna cocked her head in awe. "I do not with to intrude," she said. Her voice was soft, dark, rich like chocolate wrapped lovingly in velvet. "But I have wandered the edges of your dreams as of late, and have found some distress. And tonight..." She nodded toward the snoring Blueblood, his hulking figure looking almost slobbish and slovenly beside her divine figure. "I see him in there, and you out here. Is there something wrong, Miss Lulamoon?"

Trixie grunted, and turned back to face the skyline. "Why do you care?"

"Because," Luna said, "Blueblood is..." She paused. "He may not be a nephew, not as such, but he is close enough to the line to be considered such. And his mistress - "

"Marefriend," Trixie bit out. She'd keep that much, at least.

" - marefriend," Luna said smoothly, without even missing a beat, "is of interest to myself - especially when she and her mate have taken on such interesting changes as of late."

Trixie blinked. "What?" she said. She gave her monumental ass a tap, and winced, partly out of pleasure, partly out of some bizarre sense of shame, when it wobbled and jiggled like a bowlful of pudding. "This?"

"And his..." Luna's mouth twisted. "Size." Blueblood's massive pillar of cock was unmistakable, even from here. It towered above his head, even flaccid, and drooled a steady stream of milky white precum onto the carpet behind him.

"So?" Trixie said, after a moment. "What about it?"

Luna said nothing. She merely waited. After a full twenty seconds, Trixie just grunted, turned back to face her, and sighed.

"I'm supposed to be his fiancee," she said. She threw out her hands to her sides. "His princess! But he won't look at me without a damned erection! I'm waiting for him to sweep me off my feet - not sweep me onto his fucking cock. I'm more than that! I deserve more than that! I'm more than just some hussy to come suck him off whenever he calls!"

"So you are," Luna said softly. Trixie realized that she was trembling, and clamped her jaw tightly shut. Her hands balled into fists as Luna regarded her coolly, those deep, blue eyes glittering with bemusement. "An odd arrangement, I would say."

"Odd?" Trixie spat. "Feh. Disgraceful."

Luna nodded. "Indeed," she said. "It is most peculiar for a stallion to be the one in command here."

Trixie stopped. "Wait," she said, slowly looking up - and up, and up - at Luna. "What do you mean?"

Luna didn't answer at first. Instead, her horn glimmered a soft, starry blue. Trixie felt a strange coolness at her behind, and yelped when she felt something shift around her asshole and marehood.

"I have...tightened you, somewhat," Luna said. She looked caught between a smile and a frown. "My 'nephew' seemed to have left you a bit stretched, you poor thing."

Ordinarily, Trixie would have bit back after her choice of words. But she felt no venom on her tongue tonight. Instead, she held back, standing quietly and waiting for Luna to continue.

And she did, after a moment. "I am still adjusting to modern customs," Luna said. "But in my time, it was the mare who held the power in any relationship. She leashed her stallion like a loyal dog, pointed him to where she would, and he would follow happily. Not unwillingly," she added, "but it was our way."

Her lip curled, and her eyes shifted back toward Blueblood. "His type did exist then," she murmured, "but even so, the mare's authority - superiority, even - was never in question." She thumped her large bust, her massive breasts bouncing slightly in their tight bounds. Even so, a quick flex of Luna's arm brought a massive, beach-ball-sized bicep bulging just below her shoulder. Luna smiled grimly as Trixie gaped. That whole arm had to be more than twice the size of her waist!

"As you can imagine," Luna said dryly, "maintaining control was never an issue." She inclined her head in Blueblood's direction. "Perhaps he requires someone to put him in his place."

"But how?" Trixie's mind turned, spun, and did its best impression of a belly-flop. She frowned, considering. "What can I do?"

Luna smiled mysteriously. "More than bust and rear make a mare," she said, with a wink at Trixie's over-exposed curves. "Size. Strength. Power." She flexed the other arm, pushing into a most muscular pose that made her tree-trunk thighs swell with definition. "These are the marks of a true princess. And I think," she added, "the tools to access all three are well within your reach."

Trixie thought for a moment. Then her mouth slowly opened. Luna's smile widened. As she straightened up to her full height, Trixie was reminded of just how huge she really was. Nearly ten feet of mare - muscled, busty, sexual - loomed before her. Beneath her, Trixie felt like an exaggerated parody, a tiny little loofah that may as well have been a stuffed toy. Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away.

"Be sure that Prince Blueblood knows who owns him," Luna said. Her wings flared out wide behind her, her wingspan easily taking up the entire balcony. A single flap sent her soaring up ten feet into the air; Trixie only caught her final parting words, a tinkling, musical tone that mixed with the soft rush of the summer breeze.

"Be the mare that holds him," Luna called down. "Own him, and so own yourself." Another flap, and she vanished over the rooftops.

Trixie watched her go, her eyes wide. As soon as Luna's shadow disappeared, Trixie slid down the railing, finally coming to sit on the cold ground. Her thoughts spun, her mind turning over and over as she calculated and recalculated. She could - but then she'd have to - but she could use that, and -

Two minutes later, the door to her suites clicked shut behind her. Five minutes later, she was packed into a royal carriage, the wheels clicking down the cobblestone street as the driver pushed the way toward her destination.

And back in the bedroom, Blueblood slept on, snoring, dreaming, ignorant of what tomorrow would bring.

Epilogue

Blueblood awoke slowly. He groaned softly, shifting his weight as his eyes drifted open. He yawned, then wondered momentarily why the bed wasn't creaking beneath him. Ever since he'd gotten his operations, it seemed that the damned thing wouldn't stop complaining at his muscular, massive weight.

He pushed his shoulders forward, and froze when he felt his rear press up against something hot and hard. Blinking stupidly, Blueblood let his head sink back against a pillow - but that was no pillow behind him. It - they - were far too large. Large and round and firm...

He grunted. There was a sudden motion behind him, and his eyes widened. Just at the corner of his vision, he could see a wall of blue reaching up above him. The slight curve of a breast tapered off out of his field of view, deep blue fur rising and falling with the slowness of a hulking creature's breath. As he moved, he felt something tighten around his waist: Trixie's arm, he realized, which had him clutched to her middle much like a teddy bear. Glancing down, he couldn't help but notice the way her palm was nestled between his abs and swollen member. A well-endowed teddy bear, at that.

Once he'd registered that he was being spooned by an oversized amazon, the events of last night began to rush back into his mind. Blearily, Blueblood glanced off the side of the bed - and blanched. The bed had collapsed, likely beneath Trixie's enormous weight, and the mattress itself had been flattened like a pancake. No wonder he hadn't heard it creaking. His gaze followed the thick contours of muscle that ridged the body behind him; noticing just how close Trixie's huge feet came to reaching the far wall, Blueblood gave an involuntary gulp. Just how big was she...?

Behind him, he felt Trixie stirring. He turned back to face her, and saw her eyes flutter open. She smiled sleepily down at him, confidence and power radiating from her gaze.

"Good morning, my cute little cocksleeve," she rumbled. She gave his muzzle a playful flick, and Blueblood's cheeks flushed. She moved down to trace a finger across the round contours of his pecs; he stifled a groan as she squeezed one of his protruding, erect nipples. "Sleep well?"

Meeting her eyes, he slowly nodded. Truth be told, he felt rather exhausted. On impulse, he tried to tense his rump-muscles, and found her couldn't - his entire rear end felt nearly paralyzed. He could almost feel his asshole gaping behind him, a yawning cavern just waiting to be filled. The urge wasn't as strong as it had been, but he still felt a kind of...longing. It scared him, excited him, but he shoved it away before letting himself consider it further.

"Good," Trixie said. There was a deep kind of satisfaction in her voice. He found himself clinging to it, hanging on her every last word. Her smile broadened, and her finger moved down to trace along the side of his shaft, still a good three-plus feet long even when soft. "Now, I believe you mentioned a ring last night..."

She fluttered her eyelashes endearingly down at him. A pout appeared on her face; on a smaller mare, it would have been adorable. On her, it looked very nearly intimidating.

"Won't you go out and get it for me?" she asked sweetly.

Finding a hall large enough to contain Trixie for the wedding had been, surprisingly enough, not very difficult.

The Royal Canterlot Palace, after all, had towering halls enough to accommodate dozens if not hundreds of ponies at a time - and, Blueblood had quickly recalled with a slap of his temples, it had been built to house a pair of mares at or approaching Trixie's size in the first place.

Finding a ring large enough to fit her finger, though, had been quite a bit more difficult - especially once Trixie had insisted that it be a pure gold circlet, complete with a large-enough diamond to befit her "princessly stature" perched atop it. The resulting sums had sent Blueblood's bankers into cold sweats when they'd heard, but Trixie had gotten her ring in the end. Custom-made, the final product was heavy, thick enough to go comfortably around a smaller mare's wrist, and as far as Blueblood was concerned, with every single bit.

He couldn't help but feel a bit giddy as the processions unfolded around him. Trixie's size was...new to him. Exciting. He'd never been with a mare her size, let alone shared a bed with someone of her sheer power. Each look up into her eyes warned him that he'd certainly made the right decision - and the feeling between his legs at the sight of her huge, rippling muscles and equally large tits informed him that, whether it had been the correct one or not, he'd certainly chosen lustfully.

Standing beside her, before the altar, why, Blueblood felt downright small. He towered over the officiant - the slender, older stallion didn't even reach his pecs - but where he was big, Trixie was much, much bigger. He loved it, cherished the sensation of standing in her shadow, and for reasons that might have seemed alien just days before. He'd finally found a mare worthy of his love - a mare worthy of sharing the power of royalty with. Why, hadn't he always said that a noble needed to seize power wherever they could find it? And Trixie had seized a whole lot more than that.

They'd measured her to be precisely twelve feet, eight inches - only six inches shorter than the great Princess Celestia herself. Not a single other pony at the ceremony even came up to her waist; even Blueblood's horn only reached her nipples, and the ground shook with every step she took. She'd been dressed up in an oversized gown loaned from Celestia herself, a stunning white garment that outlined her breasts perfectly and clung to her every curve, hiding absolutely nothing. Beneath that curvy, velvety exterior, everyone could see the cords of hard, rippling muscle flexing underneath. Blueblood smiled weakly to himself and stepped a bit closer to her, feeling her presence as the officiant droned on.

Why, he felt himself chubbing up at the very sight of her. Standing this close...it was an aphrodisiac to him, setting every one of his sensibilities alight. He groaned softly, doing his best to stifle an oncoming erection as it threatened to rip right through his good wedding clothes.

Truth be told, that might not be such a bad thing. He looked patently ridiculous. Where Trixie was merely impressively proportioned for her size, Blueblood's physique looked like a pair of muscular spheres stacked onto a tiny hourglass' center, with a ludicrously sized bulge at the front. No suit had been large enough to fit him (there was a reason he'd gone around largely nude after his final operation); even the tailor-made one they'd been able to have made had been on short notice, and as such as near bursting at the seams. He looked absolutely obscene, especially given the ridiculous pouch sticking out a good three feet in front of him. It held his entire stallionhood: his enormous balls, plus his long, snaking endowment curled up around them. He'd - Trixie - had made sure to "empty" him a good four times that morning, but even now, he could feel his ballsack swelling and groaning with fresh cum. From the smirk he'd seen on Trixie's face as he'd approached the dais, she'd been able to tell too. Why, he'd been drooling precum all down the aisle.

Still, the naked lust on Trixie's face had been all that he'd cared about. Blueblood narrowly saved himself from slipping off into another boner-fueling reverie when the words of the officiant reached his ears:

"Prince Blueblood, do you take this mare to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he said, without missing a beat. He looked up; Trixie gave an approving nod down to him.

"Then you may - " The officiant paused, frowned, turned from Blueblood to face Trixie. "You may kiss the groom," he said rather meekly, staring up at her tremendous tits. Trixie smiled.

With a flex of powerful muscles, Trixie bent over. Blueblood nearly choked as he found his face pressed between her two titanic tits, then moaned, her powerful lips eclipsing his as she pulled him into a kiss. Behind them, scattered applause filled the room, but neither of the lovers cared.

Trixie continued to push her weight forward, grabbing him in both hands as she pressed him to the ground. Blueblood moaned harder into the kiss, his cock swelling up as it grinded against Trixie's muscular inner thigh. There was a loud, awful ripping noise, and his erect shaft sprang free as tatters of tuxedo cloth went rustling through the air. Trixie pressed heavily on his chest, snarling with hunger as she sandwiched his cock between her breasts, her huge, massive body weighing him down and keeping him in place.

The kiss ended with a snap, and Trixie slowly pulled away. She left Blueblood panting on the floor, his impressive chest inflating with each wheezing breath he took.

"W-wow," he said.

Trixie smiled sweetly down at him. She planted a soft kiss on his head, then flashed him her diamond ring. "Love you too, sweetie," she said.

Chapter Five: Looking Up

Prince Blueblood awoke the next morning facing an empty bed. He was still hungover enough that he didn’t think much of it; however, once he’d managed to sober up a bit (sometime around twelve o’clock noon), he drowsily decided that Trixie must have gone out to fetch some manner of bras, or panties, or some other piece of lingerie that her slutty body desired.

Doubtless, he thought with a yawn, as a timely butler’s arrival answered the rumbling of his stomach, she’d thought that even her bountiful body should need to be dressed up a bit. Why she felt any need toward modesty at all, he couldn’t quite fathom - she’d made her tendency toward the whorish clear at the first place he’d met her. Why, that’d been part of her charm.

At the same time, he thought, swirling a martini thoughtfully as his personal chef prepared a five-course lunch (a body of his size and strength required a sizeable amount of calories, of course), those little trappings did do her up rather nicely. Especially given that none of that lingerie - for that was what all clothing became when placed around Trixie’s enormously curved figure - really did anything to cover her up at all. He did enjoy a bit of tantalizing tease to his meat.

Idly, he realized that he’d been rubbing his shaft for the past five minutes. A thick, steady stream of pre had dribbled down over his steak sandwich, pooling on the plate and overflowing over the sides. He tutted quietly to himself, caught somewhere between a smirk and a frown. Since his growth, Blueblood had found it a waste of his time to go about clothed in his private quarters, or even the Palace at all; his staff had quickly found ways to acclimate. Even in public, his coverings all looked painted-on; at home, though, he enjoyed letting himself hang loose. Given his libido, especially, there was no point in keeping a pouch over his magnificent cock if it were just going to tear free at the first twitch of arousal - and given Blueblood’s new lusts, such arousals were a dime a dozen.

Still. His lips thinned, and he forgot the pre-soaked steak sandwich for a moment. He’d been fantasizing about Trixie’s magnificent, wobbling ass, and the fact remained that there was no Trixie to properly satisfy him. His fingers squeezed one of the more prominent veins wrapping its way around his shaft, and a soft moan escaped his lips. His cockhead, which pushed up into a flare a good three inches above his head, shuddered and splurted out a hefty glob of milky-white pre. As his emissions drooled down his bulging, chiseled pecs, Blueblood wondered where he might find satisfaction.

He could take care of himself...but the very idea, he thought with a snort, was ludicrous. A royal such as himself, forced to such peasant-like ministrations? Preposterous. He gave his hefty shaft a friendly pat, and smiled when it throbbed in return. He shivered happily as he felt it press between his pecs, and stroked his churning, swelling balls as they hung down low beneath his creaking, over-stuffed chair. Why, if he was left pent-up for any longer, they might start to brush the floor! While the thought certainly held an appeal of its own, it was clear that something had to be done.

A snap of his fingers and a barked order later, and his butler went running to find a pair of nice, well-endowed sluts for him to use. Blueblood’s smirk curved as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes slipping closed as his massive endowment glorped pre and throbbed before him. His lips puckered outward, and he began to slurp idly at the waterfall of warm, bubbling pre as it ran down his shaft. A touch of his fingers sent him shivering with delight, and he swallowed another mouthful. He could feel every one of his muscles flexing, bulging with definition as he sucked himself off as easily as another pony might scratch an itch.

His smile widened. Oh, yes. Trixie or not, it was good to be Prince.

Within a timely twenty minutes, Blueblood’s butler had found a pair of suitable mares. Both were astounded - deservedly so - at Blueblood’s size, if slightly fearful. A fat purse of coin and a smack on their shapely asses, though, sent them squealing and begging for more.

Blueblood was insatiable. For the next three hours, he used them in every way a stallion could use a mare. Their muzzles ran white with cum, even as their sore, abused cunts oozed his thick spunk. Their wombs were crammed so full of semen that if they hadn’t been unicorns, they’d have been pregnant twelve times over. Blueblood grunted, his eyes screwing shut as he rammed his monstrous length ahead, bottoming out inside of his hapless little fucktoy just as she squealed in orgasm.

Torrents of cum burst from his cock, flooding her cunt even more. Blueblood groaned in happiness, that warm buzz of satisfied afterglow filling his thoughts again. It faded ever-more quickly, now, soon to be replaced with a trembling hunger for more...but in those moments, he savored the sensation of satisfaction more than he ever had before. Its lifespan made it sweet, its sheer size kept it pleasurable. And pleasure was, more than ever, just what he needed.

Beneath him, his cute little cocksleeve gurgled and moaned. Her belly was little more than a massive pillow stuffed full with his jizz. It sloshed with every thrust of his cock forward, and he would almost swear that her ass looked a little more plump, her hips a little more wide, since he’d been pumping her full of seed. She looked daze - was dazed, really - caught somewhere in a neverending ecstasy and a total blank of simple, demeaning use. Blueblood groaned as another bubble of cum the size of a watermelon burst inside of his pretty cocksleeve’s belly, forcing her gut ever-outward as more and more jizz sloshed inside of her.

To the side of the bed lay her companion, her own cum-gut large enough to serve as a mattress. The poor little - or perhaps not-so-little, anymore - mare was moaning, her arms and legs clasped around her belly as if in disbelief that it could have grown so large. Blueblood yanked his massive member out of his current toy’s rear with a grunt, savoring her long, drawn-out moan as gallons of his spunk poured out of her. Even so, he could still feel his organ throbbing, his knee-length nutsack churning and sloshing with unemptying volumes of seed.

A loud burp from his side drew his attention to the prone mare on the floor. “What’s that, darling?” Blueblood rumbled, turning to face her. The floor shook slightly beneath his weight - five hundred pounds of beefy, well-hung stallion made for a hefty figure. “Would you like another meal?” He gave his member a warm pat as his little slut moaned on the floor, cum oozing from her lips and onto a puddle on the floor. “Unfortunately, I think I’d like something tighter from you, dear.”

Fortunately, her massive, cum-bloated belly was just large enough that he didn’t even have to kneel down to mount her; instead, her prime rump was at the perfect level for him to just shove his endowment inside. Blueblood eyed her ass with a momentary sense of disappointment - even the condom-shaped Cutie Mark on her rump only served to highlight just how small she was compared to Trixie, and her tits were barely squeezable, just a small pair of cantaloupes perches atop her gurgling gut - but then shrugged. A hole was a hole, he reasoned, lining up his flare with her gaping, puckered ring.

A grunt later, and the little whore’s squeals filled the room. Probably from pleasure, Blueblood’s mind thought through a haze of lust, but he neither cared nor wondered beyond the simple delights that her tight, clenching hole brought to his member. His cock bulged out her stomach enormously, pushing past dozens of gallons of hot, heavy seed as he rammed himself inside of her. Again and again, he bottomed out in her tight ass, forcing his way in, his medial ring stretching her abused ring wider and wider as his exercise-ball-sized nuts slapped loudly against her rippling, wobbling belly.

So occupied with his lusts was Blueblood that he didn’t even notice the slow, ominous trembling of the floor beneath him. Some part of him likely did register it, but put it off to the force of his own bulky physique. Meanwhile, though, puddles of spunk pooled on the floor began to ripple, small waves whipping up as the floor shook, vibrations echoing through the wood as, little by little, their source got closer and closer.

There wasn’t a knock at the door so much as a smash. Without warning, without reservation, the door simply crashed open. It tore its way off of its hinges like butter, and went flying through the air, taking a good chunk of wall with it. Blueblood stopped only half-thrust, his whole body jerking stiff as the door slammed against the opposing glass doors with a force that made each one shatter at once.

His eyes opened wide when he saw that nothing lay beyond the doorway - it seemed that a vast field of deep blue had simply swallowed it up. And yet, as the blue mass moved, a wide-eyed Blueblood began to realize that the hallway hadn’t simply been removed.

It had been filled up completely.

Before he even had a chance to react, the massive body outside of his door hit the floor with an earthshaking thump. A massive face - nearly twice as wide as his own - leered at him through the doorway. A long, silvery mane curled delicately around its cheek, and mischief sparkled in those deep lavender eyes.

“Hello, Blueblood,” Trixie said, her head scraping against the top of the doorframe. She fluttered her eyelashes. “Did you miss me?”

She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she simply pushed forward - not inside, but through the door. Shoulders wider than the frame itself shoved up against royal-papered plaster, and the walls were found wanting. A pair of massive breasts that had to be approaching five feet in width squished up against the molding, trembled for a second, and then burst through with a tremendous crash of plaster and paper. Blueblood shied back, his thick arms coming up to protect his face as Trixie exploded through the doorway, her massive body finding the poor thing simply too small to admit her on its own.

He gaped at her as she crawled in - crawled! On her hands and knees! And she still came up to nearly his shoulder! - with the dust and debris settling slowly around her. Once inside, Trixie coughed once, then pushed off of the ground - drawing attention to her very thick, very well-defined biceps as she did so - and grunted before drawing herself up to her full height.

Blueblood’s pupils dilated as her shadow fell across his. The top of her head covered the central light, casting his half of the bedroom into near-darkness. The ceiling itself was a good bit taller than the door was - ten and a half feet, approximately - but Trixie was still leaning forward slightly, the back of her head scraping against the top even as she bent forward like some colossal hunchback. Trembling, Blueblood realized that, should she wish to, she could simply stand straight up and punch a hole through the roof with just her horn and forehead.

“Sorry about the door,” Trixie said, sounding not sorry at all. “It was too small for me, so I had to make a new one.” She held up a hand, as if to examine her fingernails. It had the gratuitous side effect of flexing her newly-bulked biceps and triceps, while the inside of her forearm squished up against her bust. While nowhere near as disproportionately sized as they had been before, Trixie’s breasts were still absolutely massive, and likely could have outweighed most any other pony put together. Her nipples were bare, quivering with arousal, each one the size of a smaller mare’s fist. The top of Blueblood’s head reached only the top row of her steel-cut abs, which themselves were mostly hidden behind the perfect, smooth curve of her supple underboob.

Blueblood’s voice shook. “Wh-what?” he said. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing as he stared up at her. “But - how?”

Trixie’s grin became predatory. “Simple, really,” she rumbled. She took a step toward him, and the floor trembled. Blueblood stepped back, his huge cock slipping out of the moaning, squirming whore with a loud, wet schlip. His gaze darted down toward it, and he gulped, suddenly very aware of just how this must have looked.

Trixie looked like a cat preparing itself to play with a very spooked mouse. “Your dear doctor friend gave me a followup operation. She was very happy to do so, especially when I assured her that you’d be happy to pay for it.”

“P-preposterous!” Blueblood said. “And besides - being that big shouldn’t be possible! I’d nearly reached the upper limit myself!”

Trixie smiled down at him. She was so close now, a mere six feet away. She looked like she could just reach out and grab him, almost like a toy. “As it turns out,” she purred, stretching almost lazily, every muscle in her bulging, amazonian body flexing as one, “my affinity for magic makes me quite attuned to the procedure.

“Unlike you,” she sneered. Blueblood found his gaze drawn to her bare cunt, where her two pussy lips - goodness, had she really come back nude? Yet, were there any clothes that might even fit her anymore? - were flexing and winking powerfully, as if sucking his attention inside of them. “Who needs to pay off a pair of whores to feel powerful.” Blueblood cringed.

And then Trixie’s expression changed. It didn’t soften, but it...shifted somehow. “But that’s okay,” she said, almost softly. Blueblood startled at the change. “I’m sure you were going to go out and buy that ring for me just this afternoon, weren’t you, sweetheart?” Her voice was saccharine sweet, but absolutely deadly, like a poisonous viper waiting to strike. “And that these two little sluts were just brought here to show me just how ready you are to move on with your life?”

Blueblood found himself babbling. He took another step backward and found he could go no further - his back pressed against the wall, his well-defined shoulders flexing ineffectually. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as Trixie took another step toward him, her tree-trunk thighs bulging like layers of bare, chiseled stone.

"I - " He stumbled, swallowed, licked his lips. "Dear, let's not be rash." Damn it, even his muscles looked like a foal's next to her massive frame. How was this even possible? She inhaled deeply, and he flinched, though not without his enormous boner throbbing with an incredible amount of arousal. He'd been hard the entire time, even since she'd walked in; if anything, he felt harder now than he ever had before. He spared no time for the thought, and instead began with, "We can - "

She held up a hand. Just like that, he fell silent. Prince Blueblood, who'd never given anypony one ounce of consideration beside perhaps his aunt, shut up completely. He stood stock-still, waiting for this giantess' orders, as expressions of glee, cockiness, and arousal flitted across Trixie's face.

"One moment, dear Blueballs," she said. Her voice, though deep and rich and even nearly masculine, was unmistakably musical. She was taunting him, he realized - singing to him of his own inferiority. He swallowed again, unable to keep his eyes from her massive, bulging biceps as she turned to the side, even a single one of her steps shaking the entire room around them. A long crack traced along the ceiling, the plaster scraped when her horn had been scraping against it.

Trixie came to a stop in front of the whore on the bed. She was panting, shuddering, moaning softly. To be fair, though Blueblood was anything but a gentle lover, they did seem to be moans of pleasure. A steady stream of his seed leaked out of her cunt - a sight which left his cock throbbing all the harder - and she squirmed helplessly beneath her massive, four-foot belly.

Trixie's gloating grin turned to a light, almost playful scowl. "Unfortunately," she said. "It looks like I'll need to take out the trash first." She quirked an eyebrow in Blueblood's direction, and gave one of her enormous arms a light flex. It was already thicker than his waist, and the motion just made it bulge with even more strength, her veins straining against a coat of fur that could barely contain such wondrous, steely power. He trembled as she picked up the moaning slut, taking her up into the air as easily as she might a pillow. The mare's cum-filled belly sloshed and squished between Trixie's big hands, and the floor shook as the gigantic unicorn slowly carried her victim across the room.

"Tut, tut, Blueballs," Trixie said. She looked almost disappointed. "When will you learn to clean up your toys?" And with that, she flung open the (broken) glass doors, and lobbed the poor prostitute into the air.

Blueblood watched her fly with a mixture of horror and awe. The poor thing had to weigh nearly four hundred pounds after his constant deluge of spunk into her depths...and yet Trixie had tossed her as lightly and as easily as though she'd been a rubber ball. Which she may as well have been; he momentarily wondered if she would bounce like one upon landing. Thankfully for the whore, nothing of the sort happened; instead, she landed in the middle of the pool with a gigantic splash, several dozen gallons of water displacing around her.

He offered no protests as Trixie did the same with the second whore. Truth be told, he was both too scared and too awestruck to even open his mouth. Even Celestia, who had always been larger than life, had never seemed quite this huge to him. Trixie might not have been quite as tall as the eldest Princess was - Celestia did have a good six inches on her, and could grow even larger at will - but she carried herself with a sense of power and strength that even Luna never reached. The alicorns were symbols of grace, elegance hardly befitting their immense size - and yet Trixie owned her size completely, dominated it, flaunted it. She was too big to be contained, too obscene to be ignored, too powerful to be stopped - and knew it. She was huge, and wanted everyone to know it.

Especially him.

As the second whore's pathetic wail faded into the sound of splashing water, Blueblood felt a bead of sweat begin to drip down his forehead. Slowly, Trixie turned to him. She was smiling.

"Now," she purred. "To business." She took a step toward him.

Blueblood's mind blanked. His thoughts flailed, lashed out, struggling to find anything to latch onto. Each step she took brought her hulking body closer, made the ground shake beneath her godly weight. Frantic, he found something.

"A ring!" he sputtered. "Yes! Of course! At once." He grinned shakily up at her, hoping that he'd gotten the right answer.

Trixie took her time in responding. Slowly, almost casually, she leaned down until she was at eye level with him. She had to bend her knees, nearly crouching down to do it; after all, she was even taller than him, relatively speaking, than he was compared to normal ponies. He was a hulk; she was a titan. Trixie's smile broadened as she took a low, sensual breath, her enormous breasts bobbing gently in the air as she looked right into his eyes.

"Great," she said. Blueblood moaned softly; this close, it was impossible for Trixie's tits to touch anything else but his cock. They were still soft - wonderfully, impossible so - but rather than sag with plush and fat, these were firm. Strong, even, like the rest of her. She took another breath, and he felt her cleavage tighten around his erection, squeezing all four feet of his mighty cock between them like a sponge. A whimper slipped from his lips, and his member spasmed, erupting pre all over her bust and lips.

Trixie laughed softly, even as Blueblood trembled with trepidation. "I always knew that you had a plan to ask me, anyway," she purred, her smile broadening. She licked a line of his salty pre off her lips and moaned softly. "You incurable romantic, you."

Something squeezed him on the rump - hard. Blueblood let out a most unmasculine squeak as Trixie's big hand darted back from his fat, wobbling rear, waves and counterwaves of motion spreading across its surface from where her thumb had struck him like a gong. She chuckled, then gave his shaft another look.

"But first," she said, with a grunt. She rearranged her weight slightly - how much that was now, Blueblood feared to think about, let alone ask - and the floorboards creaked beneath her. Her giant breasts bounced, Blueblood's ample pre slicking their cleavage enough that he found his cock sliding up and down between them with each throb of his length. He grunted as he felt his massive balls churn anew with fresh seed.

With a sudden motion, Trixie grasped his cock around the base. Blueblood gasped, his whole body going erect as Trixie's enormous hand squeezed his veined, pulsing shaft. Rivulets of pre ran over the sides of her fingers, moistening her palm as his cock throbbed and flexed in her grip. Her hand wasn't quite large enough to fit all the way around, but it made it more than halfway, which itself was a notable achievement. Blueblood trembled, both with fear and arousal, as her lustful eyes cornered his own, her grasp tightening around his cock with each word she spoke.

"I'm afraid I've been a poor partner for you, dear Blueballs," Trixie murmured. She gave his cock another squeeze, and he moaned. It was as if he could have orgasmed right then and there - yet he didn't. Trixie's ironclad grip on his member all but forced his release back down into his nuts, and he nearly gasped in pain. He could feel his huge, soft ballsack slowly growing larger, swelling with more and more seed. It already hung below his knees, and was only adding on more and more volume by the moment. Trixie's thumb began to caress the side of his shaft lovingly, a low, throaty purr coming from the amazon's mouth.

"You've deserved a much more...active lover," Trixie said. "A stronger one, even." She sounded amused, terrifyingly so. He was momentarily reminded of her powerful, flexing bare pussy lips, and was unsure of whether to be scared or horrifyingly, incredibly aroused.

Another spurt of his cock splattered her nose with precum. Trixie took a deep sniff, taking in his musk, as Blueblood’s engorged shaft trembled in her grip.

“Can’t think of anything but sex, can you, poor Blueballs?” Trixie smiled at him, then leaned forward until her muzzle was almost brushing against his flared tip. Her breath was hot on his head, and Blueblood whimpered, his cock flexing, as her fist tightened even further around him.

“But that’s okay,” she cooed. Her free hand stroked his ass gently, her fingers tracing around his plump rear with a loving touch. “A big stallion like you clearly isn’t good for much else. All top- and bottom-heavy - why, you’re like a big stallion doll!” Her smirk widened. “Why, your figure would look almost silly next to mine - so small, and yet so grossly misproportioned. And I’m sure you actually thought that having a pec shelf as thick as your forearms are long was a wonderful idea.”

She licked her lips, and Blueblood felt his breath grow shorter. His cock was twitching, his balls trembling as they glorped and sloshed with impossible amounts of cum. He needed release badly, and each teasing stroke of Trixie’s tight-clenched fist against his shaft only sent his mind stretching tighter with need.

“T-trixie,” he gasped. His balls were down past his calves at this point. Every one of his muscles was flexing, bulging, contorting with desperate, bestial desire as Trixie owned him completely. “P-please.”

“And yet, truth be told,” Trixie said, her voice a low murmur, “your cock still looks…”

Blueblood stiffened.

“...delicious.”

Trixie planted a kiss on his cock, her lips puckering right over his slit. Blueblood moaned, his spine going limp as Trixie's long, thick tongue flicked playfully against his urethra, lapping up each pint of precum oozing from his nuts. He was whimpering, squirming, the pressure rising again in his balls - when suddenly she pulled away.

And away. And away.

Slowly, with all of the grace and power of a goddess of myth, Trixie drew herself up to her full height. Blueblood's pupils shrank, and he felt his own muscles flex in a fearful display of power in the face of this...deity. Up and up she rose, ascending higher into the air above him, until once more her head was straining against the ceiling, her massive body looming over his own. Was she...taller? Was it even possible? The ceiling's plaster cracked and groaned as Trixie's head pressed against it, and for a moment he could have sworn that her belly-button hadn't been that close to his muzzle just seconds ago...

She didn't wait for his permission before grabbing him around the waist. Blueblood gave a yelp as he was rudely hefted into the air, Trixie's fingers curling lovingly around his plump buttocks before lifting him up as easily as she might a foal. He was five-hundred pounds of huge, hunky, virile stallion, and still she made a mockery of him! And yet...he was powerless except to moan, his cock throbbing with constant arousal as it slowly slid up between Trixie's colossal tits.

Holding him in place like a toddler - or perhaps a simple toy of her own - Trixie parted her lips and slipped them across Blueblood's shaft. It might have been far too large for her before - and in fact, it was clear that taking it in wasn't the easiest thing for her now - but she managed to get her whole muzzle around that massive, two-foot flare without much difficulty at all. And then she began to swallow it, gulping down feet of thick, studly cock at a time while Blueblood moaned and writhed in her arms.

Pre poured down her throat like a bubbling brook of constant, building lust, but to a mountain of size such as Trixie it may have been a paltry trickle. Her constant ulp-ulp of cock-swallowing made Blueblood's tremendous nuts seize up all the more; he tensed up, preparing himself for release as the suction of her lips reached a crescendo, and let his muzzle tremble in anticipation.

Ye gods. He'd never felt so aroused. And yet the situation was totally, incomparably alien to him. He was more than smaller than Trixie - he was tiny to her. She was maneuvering him, using him; he felt less like he was receiving a blowjob than like the contents of his nuts were being sucked up through a straw. The flow of pre out of his slit doubled, then tripled, his balls gurgling with tremendous output as his grunts and tinny groans reached a fevered pitch. And still, Trixie's massive, tree-trunk-thick biceps held him still in place, holding his chubby rump in the air just high enough to keep his smaller head inches away from the ceiling.

With a final, wet slurp, Blueblood felt Trixie push him over the edge. He gave a cry, his hips thrusting forward - and found them locked into place, his whole, tiny body forced still by the power in Trixie's upper torso. His cock flexed and throbbed all the same, each monstrous vein in his comically oversized length pulsing as one as he spilled gallons and gallons of thick, virile seed down Trixie's throat. She guzzled it down eagerly, all twelve-plus feet of her flexing in delight as she drank Blueblood dry. The suction of her lips was insane - he felt like his orgasm would never end. When it finally did come to a close, though, he was shuddering, shaking, trembling with pleasure and fear and release...and trepidation at what would come next.

Trixie released his cock from her lips with an exaggerated sigh. She smacked her lips, catching a cupfull of jizz "dribble" on her cheek. "Delicious, as always, dear Blueballs," she cooed. Blueblood heard a patting sound; glancing down, he just barely managed to see her rubbing her slightly distended stomach with a soft grin of satisfaction. "Though surely you didn't think that would be enough to satisfy me, did you?"

He was panting, he realized. Sure, he might have been fucking and rutting all day, but that was his new lifestyle. No - this was different. He felt like he'd just gone five rounds with Trixie before either of their operations - and yet, from the look on her face, she was nowhere near finished.

He swallowed. Gods, but her stomach had mostly looked flat! That much cum pumped into a regular mare would have left her a groaning, bloated cum-balloon. Just yesterday, a single one of his loads had made Trixie look pregnant with twins; this, however, had left her looking satisfied with just perhaps a particularly filling meal. His dick throbbed, his cockflesh tensing again, and Blueblood winced. And yet...just feeling himself under her power, hearing the rumbling timbre of her voice, made him wish to feel it all over again.

Anything...so long as he could feel that wonderful, godlike body.

Blueblood reached up a hand toward one of Trixie’s magnificent tits. It hung in the bottom half of his vision, a massive blue strip bobbing gently in the air. He hesitated, seizing onto his train of thought, if only for a moment. What on Earth had possessed him? He was the stallion - the alpha! How could he possible allow this? How could he submit to this...this brute!

And then Trixie gave his ass another squeeze, and Blueblood all but melted. He groaned, leaning forward as Trixie suddenly released the pressure on his torso. His cheek smushed against the cum-slick side of his shaft and he groaned again, softly, as alien desires and feelings warred within him.

"It looks like you're raring to go again," Trixie said. She leered down at him, basking in the sight of him as his weak moans left his turgid shaft vibrating beneath his chin. "Which is to be expected. There's never not a moment when you're not horny, is there?"

Blueblood could only grunt, though whether in defiance or assent, he couldn't be sure. Trixie laughed softly.

"Maybe you think you'll be getting that in me?" she said. "Stuff me full like one of your tight little sluts?" Her laugh became edged, almost mocking. "Though it's looking a tad smaller than I seem to remember. How does it feel, Blueballs" - she reached down to finger herself, her big fingers probing at her labia as she held up with a single hand - "to be held by a mare so big that even your cock isn't so impressive? Think you'd like to full up this jumbo-sized cunt, huh? Think it's the perfect size?"

Blueblood moaned weakly. His cock throbbed - oh, how it throbbed - but he barely knew what he wanted anymore. That last orgasm had simply been...too powerful.

Trixie didn't mind. She seemed to like her audiences attentive. "I'm afraid it's not in the cards, tonight, though." She gave Blueblood's ass a squeeze, and grinned down at him. "I've brought a stallionhood of my own home tonight."

Blueblood's eyes opened wide. But Trixie wasn't one of those - he hadn't seen -

His eyes bulged as he peered over Trixie's immense cleavage, expecting to see some sort of massive member poking up through her tits. But nothing showed. Instead, he merely blinked dumbly down at her breasts for a few moments before finally looking up...

...and noticing that her horn was glowing.

On instinct, he glanced to his right - and there he saw it. It was immense: a huge, gaudy, purple horsecock easily the size of his own. It wasn't quite real, he noticed after a moment: The shaft was too rubbery, the "balls" too perfectly smooth. And both were mounted in the same place: a pair of gargantuan panties that seemed to bob and sway with some imaginary breeze. Blueblood swallowed, then paled when he realized what he was looking at: a strapon.

A strap-on, he supposed, fit for an amazon.

Trixie didn't give him even another second to appreciate it. In a heartbeat, her lips were on his, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth, hungry, tasting, devouring. He tried to push back, but her tongue was too strong, her lips too firm around his own. She owned him in that kiss, and even as he tried to seize control one last futile time, he felt himself melting into it, letting her strong, full lips lead him as her tongue danced around his. Blueblood heard somepony moaning, an awful, high-pitched, feminine sound, and then realized that it was himself.

The kiss broke, and Blueblood sputtered, gasping as his head flicked back. Trixie coughed once, then leered down at him, a lusty smirk on her cheek.

"I'm going to enjoy being inside of you," she murmured. A single, sausage-thick finger traced down the slight curve of his cheek, and Blueblood shuddered. Her fingernail pricked at his neck, forcing his gaze upward until he was looking deep into her eyes. Lust and hunger stared back, raw, primal need blazing with power. Trixie smiled, and Blueblood found himself shivering with anticipation.

"Be gentle," he said, in a small voice that he never before would have considered his own.

"Oh, Blueballs." Something about Trixie's voice left Blueblood whimpering with need. Maybe it was the growl in her voice, the signal of ravenous predator ready to seize its prey. Maybe it was her confidence, so casually effected that it was a struggle not to hang on her every word, which so easily dripped with strength. Maybe it was his own libido, even, resounding with the twisting promises of her words even as his not-so-blue-balls sloshed and groaned with ever-increasing amounts of seed.

Regardless, Blueblood whimpered. He listened. And he wanted.

Trixie went on. "I'm going to make you cum harder than ever, little mare?" Her teeth flashed down at him.

Blueblood felt a lump rising in his throat. "Is - is that no?" he said timidly.

Trixie rolled over him like a steam train. "Go on," she rumbled, swinging her weight forward so that her colossal tits slapped against his chest. "Give it a lick." The monstrous strapon floated a foot or so closer, until its shaft was mere inches away. From here, Blueblood could make out every detail: the mottled, sparkly purple "shimmer"; the veins, so thick and almost believably hard, but snaking off to nothing toward the base and flare. He felt his mouth dry, his tongue probing at his lips as the scent of the thing filled his lungs.

"What are you waiting for?" Trixie's voice was like velvet, like honey, like poison. She was waiting for him, he knew. "Christen that big guy. He'll be your new baby-daddy, after all."

Blueblood swallowed. Trembling, he leaned his neck forward. The massive "endowment" drifted lazily toward him, the enormous shaft coming to lean almost tenderly against his horn. After a short breath, Blueblood darted forward, and planted a soft, chaste kiss on the shaft.

"Go on," Trixie growled. "I want to see more action than that, little slut."

The kiss became a lick, Blueblood's tongue tracing almost tenderly across the surface. As his saliva gleamed against the purple silicon, Blueblood felt something tingle inside of him. Almost instinctively, he leaned forward and to the side, twisting in Trixie's grasp so that his limbs were free of her enormous bust. His cock slapped wetly against his pecs, the shaft of it thrusting out at an odd angle beneath his armpits as he hugged the enormous strapon, getting both arms around it as his own oversized biceps swelled and blocked the way. A moan, guttural, yet needy and feminine, slipped from his throat, and he began to thrust, humping the air as his own engorged member slid past a particularly thick vein.

"Pervey little slut," Trixie noted approvingly. She grasped his ass and squeezed it, hard. Blueblood gasped, pulling away from his new "lover" with a start. With a hiccup, and a light blush of shame, he allowed Trixie to turn his smaller body back around, rotating him until he was facing her once more. With a glimmer of magic, the strap-on pushed between their bodies, the "panties" latching over Trixie's  thick thighs and cunt as the shaft slipped slowly between her pillowy bust. Blueblood shivered, watching that massive cock rise up over his head with a roaring lust and trepidation.

It rubbed against his own erection, though was much cooler to the touch. It was much less alive than his own, certainly, yet Blueblood couldn't help but feel a certain amount of awe toward it. Trixie was as large as him, now - if not bigger - and yet her amazonian size allowed her to own it in a way that he never could. He felt a thin line of drool slip down his cheek, even as he slowly lost himself in the gentle embrace of her feminine musk.

There was a slight pressure around his ass, but he barely noticed until it popped inside - pushing rudely past his tight rectum until it was just inside. Blueblood stiffened, whimpered, his eyes tearing up as Trixie fingered his ass, her thick finger spreading his virgin asshole wider by the second.

"Gonna be a tight fit," Trixie said, almost casually. She wormed her finger a little deeper inside of him, and Blueblood let out something between a gasp and a moan. His cock swelled up a little large, his shaft pushing against Trixie's "endowment." He could feel her magic clutching at his balls, squeezing those colossal nuts as they swelled up with more and more spunk. He gritted his teeth, struggling to contain himself as her finger made little swirls of motion across his prostate, widening it more and more by the second.

Trixie noted the look of halfway euphoria on his face, and smirked. "So you're just as much of a slut as I thought," she said. "Still a virgin down there, though - but we'll fix that." She chuckled, and gave her hips a little pump. Blueblood groaned, his cock throbbing mightily as Trixie continued to massage his prostate. "Just gotta lubricate..."

Trixie's finger suddenly pushed forward, and the alien sensations surrounding his prostate all exploded into a swirling mass of pleasure. Blueblood grunted involuntarily, his hips thrusting forward. He - well, he didn't cum, but it was the closest he'd ever come to it without it being the real thing. His monstrous balls, each one the size of a small bean-bag chair by now, seized up with motion, and suddenly gallons and gallons of salty precum were gushing forth, splattering over him and Trixie, and coating her "cock" thoroughly with natural lubricant.

Trixie licked her lips, eyeing her "shaft" with obvious pleasure. "Now that's more like it," she purred. "All wet and ready to go."

She gave his plump ass a squeeze, his thick, well-rounded rump easily filling her large hand. Blueblood whimpered, another splatter of pre bursting over his face. As salty-white rivulets of precum dribbled down his rosy-red cheeks, Trixie's smile curved upward. She gave a subtle pump of her hips, grinding their "endowments" together. Blueblood's blush deepened.

"Looks like somepony's excited to be bred," Trixie cooed. Teasingly, but almost with a gentle touch, she planted a kiss on his forehead. A second later, Blueblood found himself standing, somewhat unsteadily, on the carpet, his bare toes squishing into the soft fabric. Above him, Trixie towered like an ancient titan, her massive body and now-dripping "erection" filling his entire field of vision.

"Get on the bed," she said. It wasn't a request, but it wasn't quite a command, either. All the same, Blueblood found himself all too happy to follow it. He quickly waddled over to the mattress, his enormous ballsack slapping loudly against the insides of his thighs with every step. As he laid down on the bed, he let out a soft groan, feeling his massive shaft press against his swollen pecs as it prevented him from lowering himself entirely to the bed. He could feel his big butt wobbling, jiggling from perhaps one too many rich chocolate desserts - and yet couldn't help but blush in some strange kind of arousal as he pictured Trixie eyeing it, sizing it up, lusting for his puckered, waiting hole...

Before he could even catch himself from falling down that particular line of thought, Trixie's sudden laughter interrupted his mood. "Hah! You're such a fat-bottomed slut, aren't you Blueballs?" She gave his rear a swat, and he moaned as huge waves of motion rippled across his ass. His own huge biceps tightened, his abs and pecs flexing against his cock as his whole body seemed to bask in the sensation of motion. But Trixie's voice called him to attention once more soon enough: "But that's not quite the view I had in mind. Turn over, darling. I want to see your face when I make you squeal."

Blueblood's blush deepened, but he did as Trixie asked. His titanic nuts sank against the edge of the mattress, nearly brushing the ground as he positioned himself on his back. Powerful - he'd thought - lats and deltoids dug deep into the soft feather down as his fat ass sunk deep into the sheets. Trixie smiled sweetly down at him as he, rather awkwardly, nudged his cock aside so that he could see properly: Even soft, it came up to between his pecs; erect, it actually covered nearly his entire head. He managed to get it somewhat oddly nestled between his ear and shoulder and smiled weakly up at her.

Trixie cocked her head, grinned back, then took a step forward. The entire room shook, the bed trembling as her huge weight sent shockwaves through the room. Lying back like this, Blueblood couldn't escape just how exposed he felt - how weak, how vulnerable he was making himself to this huge, magnificent creature. The ceiling cracked further as Trixie's horn dug deep into its plaster, her twelve-foot-plus body simply too large to be contained by even this "royal" room.

Taking a moment to line up with her target, Trixie savored the little trembles of excitement and fear shivering obviously through Blueblood's body. She actually had to pick up his enormous ballsack - smirking at him as she hefted each three-foot nut easily in either hand, squeezing them and savoring his little gasping moan as untold gallons churned within - and slide it over the top of her "shaft" in order to properly reach his rump. It was a rather pretty picture: his ballsack, draped over her huge, silicon shaft as dribbles of his own precum ran down the sides. Blueblood swallowed a final time, then looked up to meet Trixie's eyes.

"Ready for me, cutie?" Trixie's voice was sing-song, musical, teasing. Blueblood nodded shyly.

Trixie's smile jolted into a wicked smirk. Without even hesitating a second, she pulled her hips back, spread Blueblood's plump ass wide, and thrust her weight forward.

Blueblood heard himself squeal like a prize pig. He was gasping, moaning, shuddering as a sudden alien presence forced its way inside of him. His asshole trembled, suddenly forced wider than it could have ever dreamed of being, as the sheer girth of Trixie's endowment sent his rectum into shock. He choked, pain warring with pleasure as he twisted on the bed. Only Trixie's firm, powerful hands kept him in place, anchored firmly against his steel-cut abs.

"S-so much," he choked out. "S-so big."

She snorted. "Oh, please," she said. "I'm barely even in yet. It's barely even two inches, and you're already crying like a wimp?"

That got him to shut up. "I am not crying," he said, wiping a tear away from his eye. “I am fully capable of - nggk.” A sudden twist of Trixie's hips sent his asshole puckering around her shaft, and his cock suddenly erupted with a volley of pre. Once he'd wiped that away, too, Blueblood sniffled pretentiously, and, cleaning himself off as best he could, added, "And I knew that."

“Sure, you did,” Trixie said, not altogether comfortingly. “Is lil’ Blueballs ready for another two inches?”

He did his best to glare up at her, but the blush on his cheeks and the almost longing aching he felt in his rear rather spoiled the effect. Damn it, he felt hugely, impossibly stretched - and yet he yearned for more. Even now, he could feel his asshole acclimating, widening, quivering as it prepared itself to be stuffed full of cock.

Was this how his mares felt? he wondered. Especially beneath his massive, near-torso-width cock. Why, his ass had been spread nearly as wide as his perfectly tapered waist, and yet he almost felt an irrational longing for more. Trixie’s hips began to push forward, and he grunted, his eyes squeezing shut. How could he...want more? How could he hunger for it?

Well, he decided, as Trixie slipped another two inches inside of him. He clenched his jaw, steeling his resolve as another two inches pushed his ass wider. If he was going to be Trixie’s cockslut, he was going to be the widest, tightest, sexiest damned cockslut that ever -

Trixie slammed a full foot of her “length” inside of him, and Blueblood howled.

The pain - oh but it felt so good! But he felt like he was bursting, filled and stuffed and bloated until he was just about ready to burst. He was well and truly speared, could feel every throb and pulse of Trixie's huge, powerful heartbeat through the beat of her gargantuan cock. His insides were being pushed apart, his organs squished, his very skin and muscles stretching to accommodate her impossible size -

"Stop being such a damned pussy," Trixie sneered. "Or can you only give, and never take? I've taken cocks bigger than this."

"I'm not a pussy," Blueblood groaned. "D-don't have one."

"No?" Trixie asked. She sounded almost innocent. "Then what's this I'm fucking?" As if for emphasis, she pushed her hips forward again, eliciting another wail of pain and pleasure from her cocksleeve. "You're just a cock-hungry little cunt, aren't you?"

Blueblood eyed the massive bulge in his stomach with a whimper. It was huge, rounded, pushing above his belly with the unmistakeable curve of Trixie's flare. How many times had he loved the sight of his own cock like this, rounding out some cum-hungry slut's belly as he prepared to pump her full of his jizz? How many times had he made mares scream, crying out with pleasure, as he rammed his stallionhood so far inside of them that he could see their bodies deforming around it?

Trixie seemed to notice his pause. Her smirk broadened; slowly, she pushed another inch of her strap-on inside, the magnificent dildo shoving Blueblood's belly even further upward. Blueblood whimpered, stifling the sound as best he could, but Trixie noticed. Trixie's smile grew, until mischief, lust, and unbridled glee glinted in her gaze.

Without even a moment's hesitation, she smoothly pushed Blueblood's legs even further apart. Tree-trunk thighs that put any ordinary pony's torso to shame looked like twigs, even soft, squishy putty in her massive, powerful hands. Biceps larger than his very chest bulged easily on her upper arms, and Trixie's enormous tits bounced gently against her torso as she spread him wider to make more room.

"Let's begin," she said sweetly.

And she began rutting him in earnest.

In and out and in again. Before long, Blueblood found his mind lost in an endless rhythm of fucking, a racketous symphony of slapping, pounding flesh. Trixie rammed herself inside of him over and over, fucking his rump so hard that he could feel his asshole clenching with each thrust. But it could never clench all the way - oh, no. Trixie's dildo was far too big to allow that. He cried out, moaning, his marelike moans ringing out through the room as Trixie owned him, completely and utterly. He hurt, almost more than he ever had before - he was stretched, he was battered, he was very nearly bruised. But it was a good pain, and he found it mixing with an alien pleasure so intense such that he'd never imagined.

His every nerve burned with a fiery pleasure; every time she pulled out, he felt his empty body aching, howling, begging for more. He'd felt what it was like to be filled - now he needed to be stuffed again, to be speared on her cock like the little cocksleeve he was. His cock convulsed atop him, his rippling muscles flexing and bulging and spasming with endless pleasure. The first time her "flare" his his prostate, he gave a cry of surprise. His cock flexed above him, the flare slapping him across the cheek and leaving a thick glob of precum behind. He could feel his orgasm building, even without a single source of stimulation on his own shaft. His hands were trapped beneath Trixie's, his massive arms powerless beneath the weight of her grasp. It was all he could do to stifle his moans, to keep his head away from his bouncing cock as more and more pints of pre spewed from the tip.

He could feel the warm, wet slickness of his own precum inside of him, sliding back and forth with each thrust of Trixie's wide, sculpted hips. Each pump made his belly deform around Trixie's massive "cock," reducing him to little more than an overmuscled cocksleeve for her pleasures. His tinny grunts and moans soon blurred into a pleasurable haze, jolts of electricity tingling up his spine each time her hips made contact with his plump, thick rear. Above him, he could make out her huge breasts bouncing, waves of flesh a foot or more across rippling across her gargantuan bust as her legs flexed and bulged.

The room shook beneath them - or, more accurately, beneath her. Blueblood had no idea how heavy Trixie must have been now, but it must have been easily over half a ton. A titan of steel, hard muscle, she gave a bellowing roar each time she sank her strapped-on cock deep inside of him, and Blueblood couldn't help but whimper in response. He found himself twisting, writhing around Trixie's cock as it speared him deep on its length. A familiar pressure was building inside of him, his massive, beanbag-chair-sized nuts sloshing and groaning as their surfaces stretched taut with untold gallons of seed. His breathe seized, his chest inflating impressively, as he felt the oncoming tide build to a roaring crescendo.

A final slam of Trixie's flare against his prostate made him choke out in a deep, echoing exhale. It squeezed all of the tension out of him, forcing every one of his muscles to tense up before relaxing as one. Blueblood could actually hear his balls rumble, their magnificent loads churning as they prepared to unload. And then...release.

Cum spewed from his massive flare, volleys of seed shooting out over his head and splattering all over his headboard. His whole body jerked with the force of it, the overwhelming sensation of it crashing over him like a tsunami. Jets of seed larger than his head hit the wall, the ceiling, the bed beside him as his cock bucked and lurched like an angry bronco. Gallon-sized wads of jizz oozed slowly down the wall, adding to the legions of cum-stains he'd left there after near-countless titjobs and jerkoff sessions. He'd never felt anything like it, could feel his eyes rolling back, his whole body writhing as an orgasm more powerful than he'd ever felt before commanded him, rode him, twisted him like a puppet on strings.

Blueblood finally came down from his sexual high, crashing down with the final eruption of spunk from his nuts. He wheezed, his muscled, yet comparatively undersized body shaking and covered in sweat. Far above him, Trixie's grin seemed to cover her whole face. Her hulking form overshadowed his completely, leaving him quivering, trembling within her power. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of gasps and long, shuddering breaths, he heard her speak.

"You like that, little man?" the huge, muscled amazon cooed.

Blueblood swallowed. His cheeks flushed with sensation, he nodded weakly, then licked his lips. "I-I think so," he said.

"Good," Trixie said. "Because we're gonna be doing this all night."

His eyes shot wide open. But Trixie had already pulled out of him. Her massive "cock" slid out of him with a thick, wet sound, and flopped down over her muscular thigh as she drew herself back up.

"Turn over," she commanded. "I've changed my mind." Her leer made him shiver with vulnerability, made his aching cock leap with a desire to please its new master. "I want a full view of that fat ass of yours."

Meekly, he did as she commanded. His huge rump wobbled and shook as he shifted, his two full asscheeks bobbing in the air as his massive cock slid across a mattress slick and stained with sex. Behind him, Trixie chuckled softly.

"Maybe I'll even learn a cock-bestowal spell," she said. She stepped forward, and the room shook. Blueblood shook as he felt her massive girth pressing against his ring once more - though he was certain that where before it had been tight, he was now gaping obscenely. Why, by the end of the night, his ass would likely be ruined for good, barring some manner of tightening spell. But why did the thought excite him so?

"Then I can really start rounding it out with cum," Trixie said. She gave his ass a slap, and laughed as it jiggled like a bowl full of jello. Below her, Blueblood moaned, his cock already hard once more. He couldn't tell, really, if he was fearful or painfully, incredibly aroused.

More than likely, though, it was both.