The scene: Giantesses, in the shadow of a Titan. Literally. Revelation had been found in shadow-- or specifically, Twilight Sparkle had revealed herself and Rarity, masturbating furiously, to (and at) their titanic fiancé-pupil, Shadow Hopper. Revealed that they'd taken advantage of his pre-agreement to be teased into provocation into dominant fun-- and while he'd struggled to contain his super-sensitive super-sized shaft throughout most of the morning, they'd been frigging each other and filling the room with the tantalizing scent.

Appreciating his power, but taunting the stallion beneath to act. A yin and yang just as much as the adorable round librarian-glasses on Twilight's face, compared to her rubber dominatrix gear, or the friendly perk of her voice contrasted with the lewd rut of her hips.

So-- provocation. Hopper's teeth ground together even as an immense smile burned its way across his lips. Muscles and magic, sarky perk and salacious enthusiasm, wisdom and impulse-- Twilight's dichotomies always provoked him.

And he'd been prick-provoked all morning anyway. Enough is enough! The room had thundered as his hooves hit the floor, and the multiton pair of power-princesses instinctively shrank back, if only briefly. Even though it was only his wings scraping the far sides of the room, it felt like in standing, his shoulders were somehow being shoved back by the wall.

Intolerable. He sprang up from the bed to his full nine foot four. Once again, the floor shook and dust flew; the shock of his standing almost knocked two of Equestria's mightiest protectors straight on their exquisitely juicy asses.

Everything is still! Too! SMALL! Hopper was uncomfortably aware that right now, he wouldn't have found Luna's room large enough. Perhaps not even open sky. For a moment, he was half tempted to slam his horn right through the too-small ceiling but he didn't want to deal with the resultant laughter. Usually, when he stood up in here, he was careful to hunch his shoulders over until he almost looked like some craggy butte.

It had certainly been the butt of more than a few of Twilight's gentle teases aimed his way, that was for certain.

Not now. Neither mare seemed inclined to crack wise, if at least for a moment. He stretched, and the tip of his horn dragged along the too-close ceiling without piercing it. The stretch didn't stop there. Nor did it cease with a roll of his shoulders; didn't end when his wings slammed back against the ceiling-- didn't end until every last chiseled inch of him had its flexing say. It was, in fact, sufficient to at least get the hyper pair before him to cease their masturbatory… appreciation… of him?

Hopper was too irritated to let the contradiction hold him back. He was far too itchy, far too… well, cocksure was probably the wrong word but it kept coming to mind. Fists clenching into boulderish masses, he pulled his wrists back to his hips and forced his redwood trunk legs to V out.

It felt comfortable, to be honest. Nuts that were rapidly trying to precum-swell larger than either alicorn mare could dangle between and against his meaty thighs, the 'sack' fold over the top as tight as a posing pouch. His pose kept the surety of his cable-sized prick pretty surely forward along with it.

Waggling the full ponies-plus-sized package right into Twilight and Rarity's faces, as it happened.

Which meant that while the hungry, predatory smiles on the mares' faces promised that this was a delay, not a win, they did grow silent and still for just a moment. Purple and white wings growing so stiff it almost looked like their feathers-- their feathers' barbs!-- were pushing each other away. Briefly.

Details quickly became hazy as Hopper towered. The light that glowed from the crystal ceiling was blotted out in an instant. For a moment, he was able to ignore his prick's constant pressure to escape his pants. He might not feel like pulling his dick around and waving it like a fishing pole made for whales (or alicorn mares), but he let his wings at last stretch free.

Mostly. Sort of. As free as they could in a room build for a seven feet tall colt, at least. A sudden surge of irritation caught him; it would have been nice if the Castle had realized he was going to grow a bit more. Right now, it isn't even scaled to my dick. The genius loci had added a bit of room to grow, but not enough, not nearly enough. The sudden cramp as his wings were forced to curve at the corners of the room was reminder enough. He didn't even get to stretch all the way to his primaries-- he had to curve along the secondaries just to get room.

His primary feathers swept the floor beneath like the shadows cast through the matte-black expanses. Even with his muzzle ducked forward against the wall of his chest, he would have blotted out the light from shoulder width alone.

Hopper was aware he wasn't the cool or sexy kind of black that the thestrals and occasionally other ponies threw. Not an inky black; not 'dark as your soul's despair' or anything like that. Not the shining black of his father's starlit void, just simple solid black. Background black.

Right now, he wanted to be foreground. Between his cock trying to drive him insane and these wonderfully maddening mega-mares doing their best to help, he felt like asserting himself hard. The light flickered in and out in faint beams as he adjusted the cricks in his neck and shoulders. He straightened up as much as he could without jabbing into the poor Castle-- it wasn't a very smart genius loci yet-- and was uncomfortably aware that the play of light and darkness was glittering over the veiny outline of his hyper bulge-- making every contour, every throb all the more visible to the naked eye.

Naked eyes from near-naked mares, come to think of it. They were beginning to recover from the shock of his rise-- from more than just the physical, reverberating echoes of ton upon ton upon ton of muscle-stud hitting the ground like he had a grudge.

Twilight Sparkle was the third tallest alicorn princess, the third mightiest. But that was a rarefied company, There were some hypers taller than her eight feet, and indeed the entire minotaur and griffon races at maturity started at nine. But even amidst the twelve foot (and change!) giants of those two musclekinds, Twilight's outrageous combination of incredible expansion, chiseled definition, and endless, lush super-curves made her stand out.

She was in another's penumbra now. Figuratively and literally.

Clad only in studded rubber stompy boots and studded rubber bicep-length rubber gloves-- the lacey shelf bra holding up the one hundred and fifty-three pounds of U-cup tits being more of an accessory-- Twilight looked like the dominatrix wet dream of a whole tribe of muscle-worshiping subbie sluts, save for the open O-ring on her heavy collar.

She wasn't just stronger than almost all of the few beings who stood taller than her. Even in the company of dragons, Twilight Sparkle's very being made her not just seem but be all the larger, all the mightier than anyone around her. Usually.

For just a moment, now, she was in shadow. Out-loomed, not just in height, but in pure potent presence.

Though her heavy curves usually at least lightly hid how strong her treetrunk legs were, the process of creaming over a talented mare's fingers had left her muscles tense and displayed with even more power. Of course, nothing could hide the might of her biceps, even when not pumped to their sixty inch peaks.

But-- her big booty and broad, brood-bearing hips aside-- her legs were putting on quite the muscle extravaganza! Those thick thunderstorm thighs were absolutely coated with her postorgasmic fluids, the streaks following her quads' taut outlines down and over the tight rubber of her boots. A leg lover's dream-- if you could withstand the scissors promised by those thighs.

They quivered with pleasure now; with anticipation. A sudden shift had fallen upon the room, and now-- just for a moment but a discernible moment-- she was the lesser, the wimpy giantess before a massive muscle titan.

Just like her presence did to Rarity. Sheltering within her mistress stiff purple wings, the Princess of Generosity had slightly more resistance to the sudden overbearing presence. Perhaps it was that she had voluntarily submitted herself to the mightier princess, instinctively assuming the pose and poise of a proper subbie musclebitch in the first place; cuddling her broad arms against the bigger purple bitch beside her.

Rarity was dressed for it, too, Her beautiful, buff body was exposed far more than Twilight's, 'covered' (so far as you could call it that) by thin silken ribbons connecting faux-piercings on her nipples and clit to each other and to rings on her fingers and toes. Powerful limbs looked slender, her amazonian frame appearing decorative-- by Twilight's presence alone.

The moment couldn't last. The male towering over both mares was bigger, both in the absolute sense of his nine-foot-four height, and in a relative sense, burly and buff even for a member of the alicorn tribe. And he had the heft-- in physicality, at least-- to make ancient statues of Haycules look like pampered kept studs without more than mere tone. And both of the warladies had quite a bit of appreciation for the ruggedness beneath.

That, somehow, had become a problem for eighteen-year-old Shadow Hopper. The appreciation was far past salacious; it had started when they entered the room, masturbating each other while he was distracted with his cock's sudden decision to be super-sensitive and rebel against the concept of pants. When they'd revealed their illicit entry-- picking his locks and obviating his wards-- he'd actually managed to throw them back into stunned awe when he leapt to his feet, causing the room (and castle) to shake around him.

The mere clench of his fists and strain of self-restraint had caused bulges and bulk to work their way out from the rocky plateau of his shoulders, across arms that could flex big enough to outmass none-too-young colts, down across that rippling, plump-pecced chest and to legs that didn't just bulk out bigger than the two princesses' legs-- no, this stud's legs were bigger than even Twilight's megazon torso, the silken fabric of his trousers nearly tearing from the sudden expansion of quads and calves.

It was a nice moment. But buffness was one thing; for sheer, ebullient charisma, nothing Hopper could do would eclipse Twilight's friendly-laviscious intensity for long. Let alone the half-predatory dignity of Rarity, Alicorn of Nobility.

Before more than a faint leer could spill over either mare's face, Hopper began to lumber over to the exquisite pair of warmares. Stopping-- perhaps wisely-- just out of arm's reach for Twilight, he put his huge, catapult-shot sized fists on his flat hips and glowered, asking, "Can the pair of you at least please stop masturbating?"

Momentary shock vanished, twain looked at each other, then smirked back in mirrored horniness and synchronized wickedness. As though communicating telepathically, both delicately seized the other's clit between forefinger and middle, and began to rub vigorously. "Gonna make us?" asked Twilight.

"Really, darling," Rarity added, "To interrupt a pair of ladies! We've taught you better, my lord!"

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose. The two mares fingering each other were giantesses in the usual crowd, of course. Even for hypers, they were heavily muscled and battle-ready, not even counting their alicorn stature.

He outmassed them both. In theory, between his training and his raw physical superiority, he should have been enjoying them kneeling and squealing for him. Right now, even.

In practice-- and even in theory once you counted how much better their magic was than his-- they were a pair of aggressive, pushy-bottom bitches who never, ever let him slack.

And Hopper didn't mind that at all.

Which reminds me… if they're using the 'tease' portion of our agreement, I can move on to.. seize.

Rolling his eyes again, he moved closer to the panting pair. The enormous bulge of his package turned the teasing on them. His thundering steps shook the castle, but it made his beachball plus sized nuts jiggle as juicily as Twilight's own U-cups. They were already packed with the same cum with which he'd backed up the hefty Princess of Friendship's showers. The prehensile mass of his enormous cock-- already at its full length, just coiling over his bulging testicles-- throbbed in time with his heartbeat, just under the silken fabric.

The student could indeed become the mistress, or the master, in Hopper's case. The lure worked. Twilight reached out to fondle him, and pouted when he batted her hand away, doing the same with Rarity's more subtle attempt to stroke his overstuffed boxers. "My turn now," he nickered, and as purple and white eyebrows arched in time, he tensed his already pumped-out chest to deepen his voice.

Or rather, deepen his rumble. With that, he let out a near-snarl, a heavy growl aimed straight at his two horny visitors and-- Ooh. And he smiled.

Unleashed muscle mistress and well-claimed muscle slut squealed in simultaneous climax. Alright, he admitted. I may still feel itchy. I may feel more than a little bit of stir crazy. But I absolutely cannot stay cranky when just the sound of my voice makes two of the most beautiful females ever cream like they'd just been fucked for hours.

Hopper sighed, gave in to the inevitable, and with his smile beaming, he reached down to grab both mega-mares in arm. The inevitable, and the desired. If his pythonic prick wasn't using his distraction to snap his pants, it was only because like all of him, it was looking forward to the results of acting, finally, and not just squirming.

"Mine." The rumble rolled over the buff giantesses, but his lunge still caught them by surprise. He wrapped his arms fully around bitch and bitch switch, squeezing them with biceps that could defeat their quads and still have room to take on their calves, and hauled the orgasming pair back to the bed.

The feeling was every bit as good as Twilight had promised in their practice sessions. She'd wriggled then, nearly as much as she writhed now, foretelling how nice it felt to have a powerful mare under each arm. It was time to apply the lessons she'd given him. Lessons she'd made between informing him haughtily that once consent had been obtained-- or pre-obtained carefully-- and the teasing begun, the formal herd rules all but demanded he make free with their princessly persons.

So he did. However strong and however mighty each mare was when surrounded by mortals, however stronger their magic was, as long as the barely-clad megazon and accessories-only amazon played by those rules, they were trapped. Power and plush on both curvy female was trapped by the unyielding hardness of his arms against the toughness of his sides.

Rarity, elegant amidst hyper-musculature, tended to use leverage and agility more than her bulk might suggest. Still. He'd seen her lose her temper and knock a mountain-sized kaiju into orbit to retrieve later.

And Twilight Sparkle?

Twilight had broken more than merely mountains when the need was dire enough. She'd taken out an entire volcanic island once, with her bare hands, secure in the knowledge that her friends' magic would hold back the sea and prevent tsunami consequences. They'd collected the corrupted remnants that had smashed down into the sea floor, vast-scaled telekinesis collecting and compressing the sand into a crystal wardstone.

Neither could break free. They hammered against Hopper hard, shoving and slamming their heavy rumps around to try to sling free of his huge grip. He might have permission, but neither stud nor sub nor switch would enjoy this without contest to the conquest.

First Rarity aimed a supersonic elbow jab towards a connecting crease in his oblique, a pressure point. Almost simultaneously, Twilight curved her whole body around, fully in control despite being held horizontally. Her broad quads smooshed up against her lush mega-boobs, smooshing them in turn further pillowing over his side-- and then she planted her feet against him and tried to leverage them, using the full force of her powerful legs and back to pry the prison-column heft of his arms away. Off!

Nothing doing. He held both squirming and thrashing princesses captive, and brought them away from precious books to the edge of his bed.

After tossing them unceremoniously, but very careful of their wings, down onto said bed, he chuckled. "Hi!" he said brightly. "It's nice to see you! What brings you over? So good of you to knock." He teleported a leash out of its basket near the door and snatched for Twilight, expecting a fight.

He didn't get one, to his surprise. Twilight just snapped herself up onto her knees, crouching on the bed. Her hands were folded over like begging paws, but ridiculously pressed out to the sides. The better not to shove her tits in his way, he guessed? Confused, he clipped the leash onto her O-ring, and kissed the base of her horn.

"Mmm, Lord Hopper," Rarity purred, and crawled sinuously across the bed towards him. She nuzzled up against his side and pushed his t-shirt up slowly. She dipped her horn out of the way as she licked and kissed at his oblique. Twilight still held her leash, wrapped around one of her "begging paws," as she crouched, wriggling her striped-haired tail.

Rarity sucked tenderly at the impervious musculature. "On behalf of myself and Mistress Twilight," she nickered at him, "I beg you to indulge your bitches, my lord. The mistress has told me that in scene you wear simply what you have on now, or less?"

Hopper eyed them. "Twilight, knock the beg pose off," he said, and snorted when she pouted, and then bounced happily over to beside Rarity on the bed. Her aim was licking at his abdomen, occasionally trying to give his rugged abdominals a hickey. No success, but it felt great. To Rarity, he shrugged, and nodded. "I can't think of much else, honestly. Most of what I've seen, with the full-body leather or rubber just looks silly. And leather pants are way, way too tight. They just don't breathe enough, you know?"

The white-hided fashionista stroked her tongue along the long striations of his oblique, reverently massaging the bulging muscle in between statements. "No, my lord," she said, panting softly. Her tongue drew out and forward, pressing gingerly in between the topmost bulge of the megalithic muscle and the tense, banded lines of his serratus.

Purring like a griffon, she continues to nuzzle as best she can before kissing her way back down towards his waist. "Such banalities are beneath you, Lord Hopper. Be assured of it!" He glared, and wished she'd use his scene name, but was aware of her strong opinions on the matter.

And… he wasn't actually sure of it himself these days, but he wasn't going to let them know that. He was now completely convinced that alicorn mares could smell mistakes. And honed in on it like extremely… sexy… sharks…

Not his best metaphor, part thirty-eight.

Not wishing to press, he dropped it, but the glare had done its work. Rarity whimpered a bit, but didn't join in Twilight's enthusiastic slurping. He groaned, and reached back for his wingslits, only to stop when he heard the pops. "Let your bitches take care of you, Master Bunny!" Twilight chidded, and oohed. "Are you going to take it all off? Are your megazon bitches worthy?" she said, and slurped a bit of drool from her cheek.

How could he be cranky? Laughing, he reached over his head and flexed his triceps hard, putting on a show for them. The sweet aroma of their horny pussies gushing grew sharper as hed id so, and his prick almost snarled at him. I swear I've got a split personality centered just below my waist, he thought, but didn't do anything but slowly pull his shirt off.

Tensing and flexing his abs, he ground the rigid muscles against Twilight's face. Her tongue pressed against his shallow navel, prenching at him submissively. The tug of his giant arms sent a flex down from his shoulders to his chest to his sides, giving Rarity more to play with as well.

The seven foot eight Princess of Culture-- as she's sometimes called-- never entirely abandoned her dignity. Even her sucking kisses had a delicacy to them as she tasted his sweat-salted hide in between panting moans.

Soon, as he tossed the shirt to the side, their hands entered the act completely as well. Keeping Rarity's leash looped around her wrist, Twilight began to squeeze her strong fingers possessively over his gigantic muscles. She caught the shirt in the purple glow of her magic without dropping a single stroke or missing in her obsessively patterned lick-kisses.

Her compulsive OCD made her telekinetically catch his shirt before it could hit the floor, fold it, and put it carefully into the hamper to best fit not only the current spatial arrangements, but to maximize later fill efficiency. That same drive, Hopper realized, was probably why she was making her mouth's muscular adoration in the Filynacci sequence. He suspected, quite direly, that she was making a more complicated sequence with her hands, but couldn't quite catch it.

Not for Lady Rarity nor Rarity the Bitch such simple, blunt patterns. While she elegantly worshiped her mistress' coltfriend's muscles with her lips, her sharpened, reinforced nails raked hard over his pectoral muscles in front, and traced along the sculpted contours of his back. Though he could barely feel even Twilight's crushing grip, Rarity seemed to be able to find wherever he would be sensitive to even the sensation of her fingernail's loving slash across his invulnerable hide. Across his small areolae, against his wingbases, everywhere.

She towered over all fashion models save the height of the hyper crowd. Twilight loomed over all but the mightiest of any group of ponies, outside the royal bachelorette herd. But he outmassed them both, and sheltered them in the vast drape of his wings. His hands were over them in an instant, and if he didn't have their skill at physical manipulation, he did have enthusiasm for them both. For the goddesses literally crawling all over him.

"More, please, my lord," whispered Rarity as she squished her healthy H-cups against his bulging right latissimus dorsi.

Twilight purred her approval, and ran her tongue from the lowest point of his left wingbase to the top along the outside. With a kiss at the very top, she moaned, "Everything off, please, Master Bunny. For us?"

He blushed. "I'd… I'd love to, Sparkle," he said softly, then realized he didn't know what Rarity liked being called in scenes. "Uh, pants, entangled, the pair of you…" he babbled. "I kind of can't-- oh, hey, Rarity, what, uh-- what name, er…"

Twilight chuckled. "Mmm, Precious? Take care of our master's boxers, please," she purred. Dispensing thus with both issues at once, she returned to exploring Hopper's muscles anew, playing over them with her ardent and obsessive lips.

There was a sudden light blue glow, followed by swift chill as his boxers were removed in a neat teleportation, probably to his hamper to follow the shirt. "Precious" Rarity soon dealt with the chill as well, moving sinuously around his mountainous right leg to cover his groin with the vast soft plushness of her heavy breasts. That which wouldn't fit between the pillows of her tits, she cradled up against the toned power of her six-pack, whilst she occupied her lips with his 'pack in turn.

Hopper groaned. "That's… kind of neat, actually," he said, panting. Precum vented itself from his titanic horsecock in response to the undeniable pleasure of an amazon full-body cock massage. The slick and musky richness of his precum pheromonic mess washed over Rarity's hard belly, coating her white hide and somehow only emphasizing the brutally elegant of her eight-pack.

Seeing her like that made the young stud lust all the harder-- and his enormous dick all the harder-- for the stately, all-but-arrogant noblemare, and her lips pulled back in a delighted smile as heartbeat after heartbeat throbbed gallon after gallon of glistening, soaking-wet, pheromone-impregnated precum.

Whether it was the primal demands of the pre itself, the delectable, not-quite-sugary scent of it, the sheer messiness over her usual serenity making her coo and moan back at him in turn, Hopper didn't have a fucking clue.

But that's normal, so he just plows on ahead; just like he's built for. "Precious… fits both the fact that you're amazingly beautiful, and, well, Rare," he babbled, starting to thrust his giant package back against her.

Her eyes flicked up at him as she sucked against the hard hide of one of his rugged abs, a curious light in her eyes. Behind him, Twilight snuggled around as well, moving in between his wings and wrapping her burly arms over his shoulders. The pair were mostly silent; the oddness of it pushed him to keep talking nervously.

Still grunting as he swung his hips back and forth between the potent mares, he went on, "And, of course, there's the ironic factor, like when someone calls their best big mastiff or pittie 'Precious,' right?" His wings fluttered nervously around Twilight; he could just imagine her rolling her eyes behind him.

He didn't have to imagine much; he could hear the loving teasing in her voice. The bigger bitch-mare chuckled, her hands playing down over his bulging, tight pecs. "Yes, sweetie-top," she told him, nibbling on his neck gently as she ground her enormous U-cups against his wings. "That's why she's my Precious, alright. Well, one reason, anyway."

Hopper blinked. Down below, Rarity was wanking his wildly oversized maleness with passionate skill, squeezing soft titflesh over as much of the length as she could fit her lush chest. She had the prodigious pair in at an angle, letting her juicy, stiff nips rub with sinful delight over his sensitive medial ring.

"I…" He gasped, and coated her belly and thighs in still more of his lube, slicking down her hide-hair against her skin and eliciting a long, burbling laugh of pleasure from the fashionista-fighter. Shaking his head again, he asked, "One reason?" before promptly cursing himself for his unmasterful wit.

"Mmm," Rarity replied, and licked a long hoop with her tongue along his abdomen, before sharply hooking up between his pecs. Somehow, she knew just how to stroke to make it feel sublime, warm and moist and firm against the firmness of his flesh. "Your Precious bitch is multitalented, my lord, my master," she explained, and then, just a little too late, he saw a wicked glint in the blue of her eyes. "I also make-- if I do say so myself!-- a most wondrous distraction!"

"Dist--" Hopper realized that if he was going to be either a good bodyguard for the ladies in combat, or even keep up with them in the bedroom, he was really going to have to learn to think faster.

That was, after all, when Twilight teleported the three of them out of the room.

He didn't even bother to finish the sentence. The moment they flashed out, Hopper not only felt slightly humiliated, but the unkind absence of warm, female flesh against him. Far less warmth that the stifling heat of his clothes; far more mass in two or so tons of amazonian mares combined-- but even at their most close, they'd barely felt more heavy against him than the clothes they'd removed. It had been a far better warmth, the feel of two proud, bossy mares exploring his body with open admiration and the lewd heat of that admiration's force, and he missed it.

To his surprise, though, Twilight's leash was still not only in his hand, but attached to the collar at her throat. He usually had to chase when she felt like "environment change." Not today; she might not be full-body groping him any more, nor using the easy-chair sized mass of her juicy, perfect teardrop melons to lay claim over the hardness of him, but she was still tethering herself to him.

Indeed, she still had Rarity's chain in her hand, and both mares were prostrate before him, their horns actually tip to ground. The symbolic grounding, not merely of unicorn energy, but of alicornic, was something he'd never even dreamed of requiring, not in his darkest fantasies. Indeed, it shocked his eyes wide and the horniness quite out of him, his cock literally recoiling against his heavy sack, trying to hide within or behind the now four mare's worth of mass that had been building up there.

Hastily, holding his hands up and jingling Twilight's leash quite by accident, he waved off their obeisance. "Ladies-- please get up," he said, throat catching. The humiliation of the surprise teleportation was gone, burned away by a deep concern, that clutched in his chest.

Leading as always, Twilight shifted posture first. Through his blush and worry, he wondered if there was a smidgen of sulk in the slinky way Rarity followed, both mega-muscle mares on their knees rather than bowed to the floor. Twilight smiled at him, even as she spread her thunderstorm thighs wide apart to display her soaked panties. They lewdly clung to her fat vulva, displaying even the throb of her stiff clit.

A gentle grin spread on her face as Rarity followed suit, the white-hided alicorn's generously muscled thighs elegantly pulling at the ribbons, and through them, her faux-pierced clitty. The slow, sinuous parting left her drooling cunt open and vulnerable. A moue of distaste quickly was broken from her usual aplomb when Twilight gave her a sharp tap on the piercing.

As Rarity yelped and squirmed in her kneel, Twilight's smile turned to a stern frown. "Told you he'd freak, Rarity," she told her wriggling sub as she punish-tapped the faux-piercing. Pleasure mixed with pain for the smaller mare as Hopper watched, blinking.

He was utterly nonplussed, and coughed an interruption. Twilight shrugged, and stopped. "Sorry, Hopper," she said gently. "Though that's when you could safeword." She gave Rarity another look, and her frown turned into a loving smile as Rarity's white hide pinkened with embarrassment. "Somepony was hoping to lure you away from Silly like 'Master Bunny' with a taste of the true formality like we give Celestia or Luna."

Hopper blushed. "Precious-- no, Rarity, I'm sorry, I just-- it's for the same reason," he said earnestly, aware that this particular argument was perhaps a bit ridiculous. He was holding a pair of functionally naked mares-- their clothing really more accentuated and enhanced the erotic nature of their nudity than concealed it-- via a literal command chain of leashes, trying to explain to them why he both wanted to dominate them utterly, but not too much.

Before he could start to explain further, Rarity shook her head. "My apologies, my dear Hopper," she said sweetly, slithering her beringed and beribboned fingers back and forth over her copious bosom. As she spoke, she made little panting, kissing gestures in his direction, eyelashes fluttering. "I do understand. But, as a favor pour moi, please, do consider a more dignified sobriquet? I promise, I shan't think of you as being in any way lese princesse for it."

Blushing again, Hopper coughed. The gigantic stud ran his fingers back through his mane, trying to think of a way to answer that would fit. At last, with Rarity making increasingly complicated begging gestures with hands and fingers and her whole body, he mumbled, "I'll try."

Twilight smirked, and just as Rarity clasped her hands together and shook them inside her cleavage, smacked her subbie-friend hard on the ass with the flat of her palm. "And?" Twilight asked with an aside glance at the wimp of the room, the possessor of "mere" fifty inch bicep peaks.

Rarity yelped again, and Twilight graciously permitted her to rub her sore rump with her wingtips-- though the larger amazon took a handful of curvy Precious Tush and squeezed. Pouting at her mistress, Rarity swallowed, and turned back to the yet again slightly poleaxed Hopper. She continued to shake her tits by means of her hands clasped between them as she said, "And mistress would like me to design proper accoutrements for your glorious body, master!" she said, the moue returning.

Before Twilight could do more than make a lusty, hungry grin, Rarity hastily added, "And although I'm not your current 'prey,' my lord, I'm also to offer my ass and the mistress' to you for your personal use, along with the rest of us, for twenty-four hours, no challenges… if you survive her 'test.'"

Both mares purred in appreciation as Hopper's potent prick expressed itself most primally in favor of this testing. It was all he could do to prevent it from "primally expressing" precum all over the pair; he didn't want Twilight to claim distraction from his interrogation. Slowly, with great effort and tensing of hips, thighs, and belly muscles, he forced his shaft to return to a more quiescent state than seven feet and three inches shot straight at the pair.

Indeed, the effort was not all his own. The tensing of his core and legs created a sort of resonant ripple: as his powerful frame bulged and rolled with flexion and extension, so, too, did the pair react. Rarity lifted one hand to her forehead, dramatically wiping sweat away whilst fanning her voluptuous chest vigorously with the other.

Twilight just stuck one hand down the front of her panties and began to rub her clit, while her other hand thrust her middle finger deep into Rarity's anus. When Hopper gave her a look and began to speak, she just gave him an impish grin and said, "After, baby, remember? I'm just getting her ready for rectal ramming… after."

As Rarity alternately groaned, pouted, and squirmed back against Twilight's invading finger, Hopper gave a warning growl. "Twilight," he said, and this time, youth melted away and the resonance was of his voice, and the command that he was heir to, in time.

It was enough for the moment. Twilight parted her lips, tongue curling out as she moaned at him. No words, this time, but her hand withdrew from Rarity, cleaned in a violet flash of light. The hand at her pussy parted the puffy labia, displaying the wet winking hole for him. "Yes, master," she groaned, musclebound mini-giantess reduced to purring kitten with a word.

Admittedly, a very large, extremely strong kitten. Giant tigress kitten?

Worse yet metaphors aside, Rarity… slumped. The robust beauty melted against Twilight's near shoulder, planting a quivering hand on the broad shelf and nestling in. Her wings curled to her back as Twilight's wrapped around them both. The pair gave him the smuggest smiles he'd seen since… last night in bed with Twilight, actually.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, frowning as best he could and only managing to avoid smiling half the time, "What sort of test? You don't generally make things easy on me, Twi. Please don't say you promised not to. I get it."

Twilight grinned broadly; Rarity had the kindness to simply flutter her eyelashes at him innocently. Hopper still had the feeling that both of them were thinking the words loud enough for him to hear.

Eventually, Twilight cleared her throat and said, "Putting up with us playing dress-up with you for a few hours." Before he could respond, Rarity was already hovering latex and leather and various implements of design around him and the room. They did lazy figure-eights as he peered suspiciously and Twilight giggled.

She advanced on him, wings curled behind her body and boots strutting forward. Moving as though her long, shapely legs were being pulled by those big, stompy boots and the sway of her divinely jiggly hips was simply the inclination of all that attitude. As he raised an eyebrow, she chuckled and rested her hands against his chest, only the leash between them.

"Twilight," he said flatly, "You're plotting something. I'm, uh…" The train of thought trailed off as she began to whinny submissively at him, grinding the soft lushness of her mega-melons against his abs. As her fingers explored the pumped plateau of his pecs, she finished any suspicions off with a soft kiss to his chin.

Twilight smiled broadly. "Of course I am, honey," she said with a little laugh. "I want to pull you deeper into my world. Costume is the next step. Be glad I'm not trying to convince you to make a proper self-character sheet." There was a bit of sulk in her tone, and he tilted his head down to look at her.

Rarity piped up from down at their feet. "M'lady Moon refused to be tied to a 'mere set of numbers,'" she explained, "And Our Glorious Sun had to use scientific notation. Even with dear mistress' logarithmic system. They told her to stop." Unlike her shop-subbie Coco, she wasn't making a pretense of measuring over a game of molesting her dom. Instead, she was, indeed, taking quite close measurements of the heft of his past-knees scrotum with a proper cloth measuring tape. Several, in fact, braced with telekinesis and her wings while her horn glowed brightly.

Both mares began to laugh as he noticed Rarity was wearing her cat's eye glasses to work. Or rather, as his shaft reacted to him noticing. The sinuous motion of the prehensile member was deceptively fast, and Twilight was already shimmying her cushy rump against it by the time Rarity absent-mindedly draped it over her broad, chiseled shoulders. "Like the finest boa, darling," Rarity told him, "But I'll need to at least get a figure for it at rest, if you please, my lord!"

Then she winked at Twilight. "In your terms, mistress," she said as Hopper coughed and got his eager cock under at least enough control to get a baseline measurement, "A weakness for glasses, I should think. On the unofficial sheets you tell us you don't keep."

Twilight's horn twinkled, and Rarity let out a demure little yelp as her rear was gently smacked with a crop of pure magic. "Ix-nay on the eets-shay, Rares," she ordered hastily, "Or it's the chastity belt for you!" She chuckled, and stroked a finger over the thick shaft as it began to squirm from her stud's control again. "Testing starts now, master," she said in a happy sing-song voice. "Even if this isn't a regular number two pencil."

Hopper glared. "And why does clothes trying have to include not molesting two naked muscle babes?" he complained. "And… I really haven't thought of a proper theme, so…"

Rarity sniffed. "Of course not, my lord, you're eighteen," she informed him. "You'll decide, change your mind, and then bemoan your own indecisiveness. Trust in Rarity. Besides…" Her breath was hot over the tightness of his sack as she admired its heft and virility. "You do want to dress to impress us, yes? And the Sisters?"

Gritting his teeth, the young stallion kept the sproing from his shaft for the moment. The fact that his wings barreled out to either side again did little to invest his confidence, but he belatedly admitted, "Yes?"

The two mares made self-satisfied noises and squirmed at him, wriggling close before the Tailor Princess finished her measurements and smiled. "Then let us work this out to our… mmm," she moaned lightly against his muscular thigh, "Contentment."

"You could say I have an idea about what my mistresses like from close and personal tutelage," Twilight whispered in his ear, licking it every time it flicked with its owner's excitement.
"I…" Hopper paused, exhaled, and forced himself to calm. He smiled and just shook his head, saying, "You two are so paying for this later."

Twilight high-fived Rarity. "That's a yes!" she giggled, and added, "Oh, honey, we're going to hold you to that."

The dressing wasn't actually too bad, other than the self-restraint. Hopper didn't have much to complain about with two wonderfully lovely and lecherous giantess-mares swarming all over him, stroking, touching, and holding up various garments to his body.

The flattering comments certainly helped with his patience and willingness to wait to seize both alicorns' leashes and haul them off for play time as well. Rarity's frequent giggles on the theme of, "Stuffing a pair of wrecking balls into a purse," when they watched him put on various garments were slightly intimidating in terms of her expectations, it was true.

But definitely beneficial for his ego. Almost as much as the challenging sparkle in Twilight's eyes as he struggled into the latest pair of "pants" Rarity thought suitable for his image. Or how her purple wings couldn't fold back behind her, let alone curl back into normal position.

Nonetheless, Twilight eventually shook her head and after sneaking a pass of her fingers over the imprint of one vein throbbing its merry way along, said, "No, it won't be comfortable, and he won't wear it if it's not comfortable," she pouted. "And it'd take too long for him to get out. Teasing master is still too afraid of making you sad to just rip out of 'em all the time!"

Rarity pondered the issue. "Mm, I was afraid of that," she replied, and didn't bother with the pretense of "to test, for science," noisily suckled on that selfsame vein, right through her sartorial creation.

Hopper cried out with pleasure. With no small reluctance, he grabbed her horn to pull her back slightly. As Rarity gave a slightly whimpering shudder of delight, he continued to squeeze and fondle the white alicorn's tall spire. To her pout and attempt to return to his thinly clothed cock-- how did she get such sensation to concentrate with such small movements, he just muttered, "Dom's veto. You don't get to push it that far. Keep it simple, please, Rares?"

His long fingers clenched as Rarity tried to move closer, leaving her whining with delight and frustration as he held the muscular noblemare still. Her wings had reached perpetual stiffness long before even Twilight's had. They flicked but a little as her hyper-sculpted body gyrated and phantom hornflare radiated within his grasp.

He hadn't quite had to cap her magic back after the one warning to stop the telekinetic manipulation if she wasn't going to move on to sucking him off yet.

Both of them had smirked at the "yet."

Twilight sighed at Hopper's latest veto and request for less elaboration. "I don't know, Rarity," she said. Hopper almost retracted the veto at the quibble of her lower lip, and might have, if he wasn't aware of what a devastating weapon his marefriend made of that quiver. "Maybe we should just let him be and give him a reward for being a good sport. Even if that, 'Simple,' does leave us with Master Bunny, complete with just T-shirts and bulges for receiving gifts from mighty potentates!"

At least she likes the bulges, Hopper thought. She had stroked her tongue around her teeth and let out a little moan on the end of the word.

Suddenly, Rarity stopped fighting him and teleported out of his grasp. "Aye-dee-ya!" came her sudden exclamation. She stood swiftly, potent muscles and hefty knockers quivering with creative excitement. Tapping her soft, kissable lips with her pointer finger, she muttered, "Simple, yes, that's the ticket. Simplicity, and bulges, as you say, Mistress. Above and below alike, darlings!"

Twilight maneuvered carefully to avoid slapping her outstretched wings against Rarity's. She slipped a burly arm under her less-burly giantess-sub's feathers and planted a hand on her toned tush. "Mmm-- concealment?" she asked.

Shaking her head, Rarity expounded, "Our dear Master, uh, Bunny…" Both mares turned to glare at Hopper, "Is quite the handsome specimen, if I may say so. Let us not conceal, save by concealment, bragging!"

Alarm settled in, and quivering lower lips were forgotten. Hopper swallowed, and tried to intervene with Domly authority. "Do I get a say in this?" he asked, though he did put of a growl in it.

To no avail. Twilight narrowed her eyes, even as her wings flexed further-stiff against Rarity's white-feathered curtain walls. Twilight huffed and asked, "Are you going to come up with a better idea than t-shirt and shorts?"

"I decline to..."

In unison, his submissive, surrendered sluts shouted, "Then no!" Then they fell to debate and discussion at an even more rapid pace than before.

Sometime later, Hopper was left to simple blinking. He had had a feeling that his involvement in the conversation would not go well for his dignity, so he ventured just idly flexing an arm. The rise of his ninety-inch bicep elicited another pair of pleasured whines, another redoubling of horny mare musk, and… no further distraction at all. He didn't understand half of what they were saying about, "presentation" and "lifting, not separating," at least partially because they were leaving out more than half of the words.

He had a little hope, however. Surely, he told himself, the drool running out of the corners of their mouths is a good sign for whatever they have planned for me?

Hopper wondered when he'd learn to stop tempting fate. "Hopper!" came Twilight's demand, followed by a foot-stomp that he knew, just knew was making both her curves and Rarity's wobble all over.

All over. The creak of latex warned him that he needed to not be thinking about that too long.

"Oh, come on, Hopper," Twilight wheedled, "It should fit fine-- we need to see you in it!"

"Do come out from the laundry porch, darling," Rarity said sweetly. "An artist does need to see her work realized!"

"It fits fine but I have aesthetic concerns!" he yelled back. "I appreciate that it fits nice and has those spelled ties to come off quickly, but I think I'm just going to nix this now and go on to the next!" The vest wasn't so bad, it just… fit the same theme.

'Simplicity' in this case had simply meant less spikes, and no brooding (and completely powerless) runes and sigils stitched in ominous (utterly nonmagical) patterns. The basic design was a sturdy white faux-leather duelist's vest. With short coattails parted just above his own tail in the back, and a vast array of buttons and straps across the front.

Hopper did admit that, as complex as the whole thing looked, it actually was very comfortable and easy to adjust. Even if no duelist worth her foil would have been caught with that big of a target in the front, of course. For Rarity had decreed, and Twilight had approved, a design with a huge, stretched out "U" dipping in front from one shoulder down, then across to the next by means of a gaping, giant valley of open chest.

It barely covered even his slight nipples, allowing the massive bulge of his ponderous pectoral muscles to swell out. The dark hide, taut over incomparable muscle, popped against the white garment, with only the thin golden line of the tailored not-runes to solemnize the contrast. Sturdy, neat little pockets that almost certainly had no use at all were placed just below the border to either side of the button-brigade over his abs.

In the back, a grand circle of actually meaningful sigils was found-- the six cutie marks of the Elements of Harmony in a circle around the Sun and Moon marks of the Astrals. The collar was high and crisp without being sharp enough to be uncomfortable, folded just so to accentuate the enormous cabled bands of might that he called a neck.

It was actually surprisingly tasteful; Rarity hadn't even made the buttons jingle when he moved or the like. No, his problem was below the belt.

Which was why his hands were already moving back to undo the seals on the waistband when Twilight growled, "Shadow Hopper Triune's Son, you get out here right now! Rarity needs to see what it looks like to self-critique, and I need to leer at my sweetie-top!"

Grumpy now, Hopper snarled back, "Dom's veto! I am not wearing this!"

Silence. No; mostly silence with soft little pants and wails. He had almost keyed the soft release on the seals when a whimpering beg came back. "Master Bunny, please?" asked Rarity, and that latex creaking noise redoubled. Expansion was no longer strictly under his control.

That beg… those sweet, cultured tones, the light pant that reminded him that she'd probably climaxed when he'd snarled at her...

How could he say no? Is this weakness, he wondered, Or just love for these wonderful mares. Still, it didn't do to let Twilight think she'd spotted a flaw in dom technique. Cautiously, he put his hand on the doorknob and said, "If Twilight will beg too. Nicely."

Silence yet again. He sighed with relief; Twilight clearly wasn't feeling quite as pushy as she let on. Ergo, he would not have to walk out wearing… wearing.

He looked down. This abomination against the Equestrian Oligarchy, that's what, he thought in horror. What was Rarity thinking?

For a second time, before he could unseal his… lower "garment…" he was stopped dead in his tracks by Twilight's voice. By her purr.

Calling it a purr was a lowball, like saying that Fluttershy was "a bit chesty," or Applejack "truth-prone." A low, breathy rumble, a sweet voice made husky with need, almost desperation called out to him. The offending garment was almost destroyed, the latex squealing like Twilight herself in climax while Twilight moaned, "Please, Hopper? I bet you look so buff and pretty… Please, master?"

You're going to regret this, Hopper told himself. You look ridiculous.

Nevertheless, he turned the knob, exhaled deeply, and walked out. Parts of him far preceded the rest of him. The usual overly-obvious jut from his groin was made into the prow of the ESS Hopper, waving presumptively at his 'worshipful' submissives like the cheery hand of a god of obscenity.

Perhaps the scare quotes were unnecessary. As he walked back in, both mares sank to their knees. Drool trickled from their cheeks in unison. Neither had any shame with their appreciation, with Rarity reaching a deft hand up to tug at the faux-piercing clasping her left nipple while her right hand worked with steadily excellence at her clit.

Twilight squeezed her mammoth rack together with the bulge of her titanic biceps, while two fingers of her left hand pinned her pussy open; three of the right plunged in. "Mmmaster," she gasped; Rarity couldn't speak just yet. "Oh, Hostler's Number, yes!" Twilight cried. "The posing pouch was a perfect idea, Precious!"

Hopper almost lost his resolve not to wear the outfit in question at the reaction. How could he deny those flushed, panting faces? However, he promptly looked down, and his determination hardened as quickly as the alicorn mares' clits had.

While mostly open, his vest was at least… tasteful, and mostly concealing. Whereas the posing pouch completely covered his gigantic package, but concealed nothing. Every vein, every ridge-- and of course, that fat medial ring, even before tumescence!-- was on loving display as though he was merely wearing a second, gaudily tattooed skin atop his hide.

He could have lived with that. Lived nothing, he would have been and was eager to see more of the effect on his mares. But… the decorations. The knee-length bulge of his once-more soft and quiescent cock-- and hadn't that taken willpower and then some!-- was covered by a massively stretched and distorted image of the equestrian sun and moon. Below, the posing pouch continued on the flaring theme with the stylized emblems of the Two Sisters chasing each other over the exercise-ball masses of his nuts. From them, a starfield of white on light blue passed up to the waist and below to the back.

Silence, disturbed only by mewling cries of orgasm, lingered. Eventually, after getting a good whiff of their delicious musks, Hopper decided that enough was enough. He cleared his throat and asked, "Rarity, do I have to tell you how full of nope I am on this?"

The princess in question discreetly wiped the drool from her cheek and Twilight's, before bringing Twilight's femmecum-stained fingers up to her lips to kiss. After she broke from her mistress' juices, she pouted up at Hopper. "But darling," Rarity objected, "You'll be Equestria's Champion and Co-Consort! Should you not proudly display our colors?" His answering glare made her thrust her abs forward for a few moments, showing her stud her belly like the proud bitch she was,

Alas, the peace of Precious' surrender evaporated, and she sulked, clinging to Twilight's mightier form. Twilight had remained silent, just staring at Hopper's package with utterly stunned lust, until the needy snuggles knocked her out of her daze. A wicked smile graced her lips, and she stroked one of her pet's broad shoulders, before kissing her wing and saying, "We'll save it for official occasions, hon."

Hopper fought the urge to sob.

Their eventual choice was actually quite suitable. He didn't mind having his package supported and hefted forward. Much less likely to slam into someone by accident, for one. Having the whole thing slightly lifted and pushed into the personal space of the two alicorn mares had yielded rather pleasant results, as well.

Hopper wasn't sure he'd ever seen Twilight look even vaguely intimidated by anything not connected with Celestia before, for example. And isn't that an intriguing thought, he considered.

The gigantic displacement of his always-overstuffed nuts and the huge bulge of his once-more quieted super-shaft was such that he had to slightly shift the columnar majesty of his legs out to the sides a bit. Until he'd reoriented how to hold his tail, for that matter, he'd had to flick his wings slightly back.

He wondered if it was the sheer frontal totality of the black latex posing pouch that was making him feel even more aggressively horny, the hours being surrounded by bratty, nigh-unclad mares, or the top they'd finally chosen on.

Probably all three, he admitted to himself, and ran a thick hand over the bulging swells of his pecs and chiseled wall of his abs, feeling where the harness Rarity had landed on disrupted the line of his body. Actual leather, spelled to a fair-thee-well, at that.

The leather straps, studded with something that looked like steel, looped crossways over his chest. The diagonals ran down from high perches on his shoulder to meet at an O-ring in the center, while looping over each other in the back. This is really even less clothing than the pouch, he thought wryly. It doesn't even hold anything up.

What it did do, the ladies had assured him before going silent, was emphasize. Rippling muscles disturbed the shinier black leather from behind, like a living landscape of hills and sharply defined narrows beneath dark, raised roads. As the straps broke the visual line of his prominent pecs, and crowned the rise of his abs towards the solar plexus, they removed some of the concealment that the plain matte black of his hide. The contrast, even of dark and darker, was sufficient to cue in just where those muscles bulged like that of a titan. Like Luna's.

The shock of it reminded him that he'd out-flexed and out-armwrestled Equestria's warmistress the night before. In physical being, of course, though she said he gave her a workout in a dream when it came to bodies. Heady like the finest drug, I thought, he considered, and looked over the drooling, slightly blank faces of two of Equestria's most powerful ponies. Of the slight shudder that each breath gave Twilight Sparkle.

Of the pleased moans escaping Rarity, and not merely from satisfaction her own handiwork. Headier still, this, he knew.

That flex… He remembered the effect before. He wondered if there'd be any change now. His huge fist curled up like a meteor imploding. Before his fingers even finished tightening, the mares' breathing matched, quivering whines and whinnies of desire. Their feathers were vibrating from the sheer stiffness of their wings, purple and white waving like royal flags.

Hopper wasn't entirely sure how their nipples weren't tearing holes in the space-time continuum, speaking of stiffness.

Then his arm raised up in the way fallen mountains usually don't. His fist alone had the flexor-tensor cluster of his forearm bulging larger than many normal ponies' skulls-- A cross section, unless the muzzle is the rest of my lower arm, he reminded himself dutifully-- but then it curled, and his elbow went too. His tricep flared too, but only a little; most of the rise came from his immense ninety-inch bicep peak. Mountain. He might not be able to displace Celestia's fully grown stallion worth of volume…

Yet.

Nor could he duplicate what he'd heard-- and Twilight had dreamily confirmed-- of Celestia's ability to cause orgasm with just a flex. Even with the full effects of his package's bulging, upthrust presence within its pouch and the accentuation of his harness, he didn't have the elder's size, beauty, and sheer personal magnetism.

Almost.

Because the scent of aroused alicorn mare was even more overwhelming now. The concentration of tangy sex in the air seemed to rise even faster than his bicep's blossoming expansion. Everything about the amazonian mini-giantesses followed. Not just amazons-- alicorns, goddesses with more magic and experience than him in spades, left stunned at the chiseled, unimaginable power of his arm in full display.

Knowing the effect he had on both mares and shyly loving the sudden decrease in vocal pitch and increase in moist mare scent it caused, Hopper stroked his left hand over the vast, sudden hardness. Dark hide-- had it only been so recently Luna had cuddled him close to her own dark peaks and let him rest against them? Had granted him the Royal privilege of exploring *her* strength, just like this?

It had been. He suspected that he'd be called upon to grant the same permissions soon-- Rarity was drooling something about 'sleeve width' almost as moistly as her sex marking his carpet with her pleasure, all the while Twilight swiftly but self-restrictedly stroked just two fingers over her gushing sex while mouthing STATISTICAL ANALYSIS BIG BOY at him. Intimidating, that.

And promising. So he promised back.

His fingers contracted; even his dinner plate-sized palms couldn't cover much of the mass, so why bother? Strength was a universal attraction, male, female, or futa; in this, at least, a shy young adult could see his own body as having that miraculous quality of 'hot'. Squeezing, crawling his fingers over the rockbreaking hardness, pulling his hand this way and that to feel the results of a ridiculous birth lottery and plowing through the Princess' weights.

Hopper couldn't say he was giving himself redwood from the sudden, shy realization of *size*. That was only because watching two shivering and shuddering megazons flex in involuntary-- these two, these two, moved will they or nil they-- imitation, getting wetter and wetter, closer and closer to their own climaxes then *over* had him stiffer than a province worth of petrified trees. He bit his lip, ears flicking a bit as a sudden burst of blushing sent heat pulsing up towards his messy mane.

In time with purple and white fingers pleasing purple and white pussies, Hopper fondled himself, a slight, hesitant smile on his face as he looked at the duo. Twilight grinned wickedly and made the same motion on both of her own mega-mammaries, each bigger than his head even without his cum inflating it. Followed along with him.

"Sp.. spot you two tits to your one peak, sweetie," Twilight moaned. "C-call it a handicap, 'cos you're doing so well…" She smirked and tensed her thighs, grinding her body against her partner-cum-slave-cum-cummer.

Rarity squirmed, smirking so broadly the leer felt like she was physically groping him already, sank lower and lower down. With almost every inch she moved towards the floor, she gasped and mumbled about 'seams' and 'bursting' and, for some strange reason, 'lace with all the trimmings,' around the same time she leaned her head against Twilight's magnificently expansive left hip. No further comments, but it was clear she was taking a knee and resting her head for so that she might better observe this extra credit essay in gigantism. In power exchange.

Clearly, Twilight had taken her own words to heart about getting a grading observer. Other than the 'objective' qualification, anyway.

Hopper inhaled and took up the gage-- or was it the number two pencil, with this Princess his primary test? Her body his scantron. Where his fingers touched unyielding muscle-hardness, hers lewdly explored the perky lushness of purple tits. When he rubbed his palm against the side of those ninety-inch arm-mountains, Twilight squooshed her palms into the lush, soft flesh just short of the areolae, her fingernails just short of the crinkly, bare skin. Daring him to 'make' her go further. The thought-- again. Heat. How can I instruct a princess in pleasuring herself?

But she was offering...

So he took advantage of the offer. "Good...student…" gasped Twilight as he half-whimsically ran his own blunt nails over the towering tip-top peak of his bicep. They moved together, his stroke over hardness leading her sharper nails over the forward pinnacle of her U-cup mega-melons.

Hopper's bicep might be bigger, but those tits were intimidating enough just for themselves-- since her huge rack plumped out as big as a normal mare. The hefty amazon warmare nickered and moaned as she followed his lead, leaving little furrows in the taut hidehair all along the way . Rarity had stopped climaxing over accessories and accentuation, and had gone all the way down on her knees, her wimpy mere-amazon frame no part of this dance between teacher and student.

Hopper never deviated from the deviancy at hand, no matter how much blood Rarity seemed to want to repurpose to recoloring his skin, rather than feeding his hardon. Or perhaps that was her testing. Shaking her hips just so, flicking her tail to flog her own cutie marks like thus-- even the uncurling and refurling of her wings to hide Twilight's gorgeous thunderstorm thighs from him-- it screamed in Alicornic super-body language: "What use are mere H-cups here, gorgeous youth, when my mistress' U-cups dominate me already? How could your Precious' fifty inches on the tailor's tape compare to your ninety when her mistress' sixty already humiliate this poor slave so sweet?"

As for the feathery concealment-- a coy subbie's defense of her mistress' playtime priorities. "Arms and tits are your purview, bub; leave quim-cuddling to the expert." Rarity was a mistress of code-switching, after all, regardless of how she 'spoke'.

Twilight just enjoyed herself being Hopper's mountain-mirror. But the 'words' in Rarity's rump-shaking were soon matched by renewed challenge in Twilight's eyes. That, too, didn't need to be spoken out-loud: "Nice tittie play and a nice show, studly-- but what have you done to us lately?"

Squeezing himself, he remembered the trick his teacher had played to get his confidence up after the last test of his tantric magic had fallen a bit short: She'd chivvied him off to the Elementals' gym, and made up some story about making their silhouettes match and synch.

Minotaur sewage. She'd flexed; he'd flexed, and suddenly, Hopper had gone rock hard, his 'disreputable friend' pulling Luna, Warmistress of Equestria right off her feet and up.

She'd been waiting for it, after all, and if tantric lessons were over, she'd decided to emphasize her point via intracrual prick-pleasing, grinding her potent quads over his sudden stiffness with the expertise of millennia prior to Nightmare Moon.

Luna had gotten him off in that moment not just to leave a little prank for the younger mares, but to emphasize her lesson for him, following her 'orgasms make the stud remember' policy, but and he replayed it for the nosy, pushy bitches he was so desperately mad crushing on now: Despite a bit of self-love along the way

I have larger, better defined biceps than Luna Selene Solutae, Princess of the Moon, Warmistress of Equestria, and as far as most ponies are concerned, the Haytonic Solid of Hardbodies.

Flexion. Tension. A mating display by a young male for two high-status females. Offering-- accepted.

It was... addictive. Incredibly compelling seeing the mares he admired with blissed out faces, reddening and pinkening cheeks, eyes sliding backwards almost uncontrollably. Hopper realized that whatever he didn't have now he was getting. Something held only by the single most powerful entity in Equestria, and it was inside his grasp. Just like Twilight and Rarity's pleasure was inside his command, now.

Rarity had been across the line several times already, but Twilight was waiting for him. Quality, not quantity, votes Twilight Sparkle, Hopper thought. I don't have to be told too many times.

So he growled, and that finished it. Just like the first time he'd gotten a mare to cum without even touching her, but with more confidence.

Their orgasms started as the rumble hit them-- an invisible tsunami of sound and dominance that carried with it a promise of a rough ride-- but a fun one. A primal snarl of a stud who wanted to fuck, and a second promise: they would be put away wet, inside and out. It rolled over their bodies, leaving their smaller giant muscles trembling and quivering almost as much as upthrust U and H-cup breasts.

They hit their peak at the same time, but dignified Rarity, the Precious bitch of the two, fell over it first. Squealing and screaming, she fell to her knees again, tail firmly flagged so far he could see it to the side of her. She almost toppled completely, save that her stiff wingboner smacked right into the immovable back of Twilight Sparkle. Propped up by wing and mistress, Rarity panted, tongue lolling out, hips thrusting.

I think she likes the way she makes me look, Hopper thought with a smile.

Twilight might have been slightly more resistant but she was by no means immune. Still, she was more active, her fingers reaching down to pin her gushing pussy's lips open wide. She gyrated her hips forward to show him the wink of her climax, clit throbbing constantly. Despite the awkward position, she flexed as well, showing him as much of her might as she could-- and by the flush darkening her cheeks yet again, she seemed… enraptured… by the fact that his were half again as large in the linear.

Or, that ludicrously dry voice in the back of Hopper's mind noted, as she would insist is more important, three-point-three-seven-five times the volume.

He walked toward them. Strode toward them. It's the posing pouch, he told himself. I feel all kinds of forward-assertive. The barely clad-- outlined, truly-- form of his gorgeous, oversized mass of male meat was made just that much larger by a layer of latex that did nothing to conceal. Indeed, every detail that shook and bounced, from sloshing, cum-filled nuts to the impatient throb of his still-soft but monstrously huge shaft, was widened, enlarged by that dark outline.

It certainly seemed to be asserting something to the two enraptured mega-mares. They couldn't meet his eyes.

Tails flagged and wings stiff, purple mare and white kept their gazes fixed on his package just as hard as their fingers pumped over their gushing pussies. Or perhaps it was simply that they wouldn't meet his gaze. In the moment, the forward-assertingness he blamed purely on the posing pouch bet on 'couldn't', but the shy part whispered 'wouldn't'. He had no way of knowing whether they were entranced by the sway and bobble of stallionhood and seed-spheres, or simply enjoying the view. Knowing these two willful alicorns, the answer was probably, "a little of both." Which was the more enjoyable anyway.

So he strode. Quads pumping, vast arms swinging, every motion accompanied by a rippling pulse of contracting and expanding musculature, he loomed over the climaxing pair. Vast as the seven-foot-eight and eight-foot-even beauties were, when Hopper stretched his wings out over them, they were utterly enveloped by the dark cast across them.

They were recovering. Twilight cooed as she reached a broad hand out to his pouch, fingers trembling just a bit as she whimpered appreciatively. His answering groan brought a smile to her lips, and she kissed the latex-clad flare lovingly. Her still-bouncing supertits wriggled as she pumped and flexed her enormous chest for him, answering jiggle with jiggle, it seemed.

Rarity had fallen, slipping out of the winglock with Twilight. She squirmed, her smaller mini-giantess body going mostly limp. With an effort that left her rump squeezing and pumping in a way Hopper very much appreciated, she made her way up to her knees. Her horn tilted back, she looked up at him, her eyes bright with mischief and lust.

One vast, dark-hided hand reached out to grab Rarity's horn and hold it firmly, getting a happy little squeal as his talented fingers rubbed the trapped spire. The other scooped down to take Twilight by the chin. Definitely mischief there, almost devilish was the intent in Twilight Sparkle's eyes.

Prudence, Hopper told himself, then asked, "Did I pass the test?"

The two alicorn mares looked at each other. There was no verbal conversation as Hopper's hand slid from Twilight's chin to her rough-hewn shoulder. Not unless Rarity's continued cries of pleasure as her horn twisted in his grip counted, or the mutual groans as Twilight's immense mammary mountains squished into Rarity's H-cup hills.

Speaking of volume, Hopper thought, and grunted, grinding the heft of his titanic tool against Twilight's hand. Twilight is five times what Rarity can pull out-- and Rarity's are bigger than most ponies' heads! And he got to watch the smish from above. Beautiful.

"I… mmmfff. Mistress?" Rarity asked, gasping. To Hopper's amazement and arousal, she sunk her breasts forward against Twilight's vast masses, as though trying to bury herself in the larger alicorn's cleavage.

Twilight smiled, sweat dripping down across her temples to her cheeks, joining the drool there. "Yeah," she grunted, and her other hand came up to squeeze Rarity's well-sculpted rump. "Yeah," she repeated. "You pass, big guy. Got two of the baddest bitches in Equestria to play with, twenty-four hour pass and we'll fuel the Nap Stacks. Whatcha gonna do?"

Hopper's grin passed from ear to ear. "Get some respect."

They blinked.

He explained, "I'm going to make Rarity call me Master Bunny. And mean it."

The skepticism in Rarity's face and the curiosity in Twilight's simply redoubled his determination to force Rarity to obey. Even if she was the toughest sans-Twilight, according to the List. After all, if the opportunity was there-- who wouldn't take it?

Besides, he was looking forward to her reactions when she got to see-- and feel-- her work up close and personal.

Author's Note

No, I'm not back, not really. But, for fuck's sake, I wrote the damn things, sweated over them, hit my head against the keyboard... Might as well try and get the last few out, right?